Leonie couldn't decide whether to be grateful or disappointed that Dorian had vanished by the time she woke. The conversation from the night before about Revna, that mysterious girl, was still sharp in her mind—but so was the memory of his pleasantly warm embrace. She recalled his faint, earthy scent, the hard solidity of his muscular arms around her… She swallowed hard.
Why was this happening to her? How could she crave his nearness so much after everything that had happened? She'd felt so many things at once these past days that her thoughts were a complete tangle. She dragged the blanket up over her head and wished she could disappear from the world for a while.
Life, however, seemed to have other plans, because moments later Marcus's cheerful voice sounded above her.
"Good morning, little flower."
Leonie reluctantly pulled the blanket down just enough for her eyes to peek out—and Marcus's grinning, upside-down face slid into her field of vision.
"Hope you got some rest, because Filarion can hardly wait to dump all his wise thoughts on you," he said, winking at her before disappearing from view.
Despite herself, Leonie's lips curved into a smile beneath the blanket. She scrambled up quickly and glanced around. Marcus and Nir were preparing breakfast and arguing about the best way to season rabbit meat. Xavier, Aeson, and Dorian were standing by a tree a little farther away, talking quietly and intently. Filarion stood by the horses, waiting patiently—most likely for her.
Blushing, she jumped to her feet, smoothed down her clothes, raked her fingers through her hair—which did nothing to make it look any less wild—and hurried to the elf.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to keep you waiting," she said, lowering her head guiltily.
Filarion studied her face for a good half minute, then tipped his chin toward the trees and spoke in his calm, pleasant voice.
"Let's take a walk."
With his hands clasped behind his back, he started forward and didn't say another word until they were far enough that the others couldn't hear.
"You know, shame, guilt and anxiety can all block magic if you don't learn to manage them consciously," he said, turning his head slightly toward her and catching her puzzled expression.
"Anger is good fuel, but it destroys and consumes everything. I hear you had the chance to experience that with Aeson. Fear works much the same way. But both can be controlled. Your magic is not primarily about destruction, but about creation and protection. For that to reveal itself, however, you must learn something first."
He stopped and turned fully to her, making sure that the core of his message reached her.
"Nature always seeks balance. It gives and it takes. Our lives are the same, and you must make peace with that. With everything life has taken from you, and you must be able to receive everything it offers."
Leonie stared at Filarion's gentle gaze with wide eyes. She had no idea why he was talking about this. She'd expected many things from today's lesson—but not that they would be discussing her emotional growth.
"But… how am I supposed to do that? How can I just… move on from everything that's happened? From the way I've lived my entire life?" It felt like too much. Too big a task. Almost impossible.
"No child should grow up without love, care and safety," Filarion said quietly, sadness in his voice. "But what you did not receive then is now waiting for you to accept it."
Leonie frowned even more deeply and glanced at the elf walking beside her. Right now she had no one. The elves at court would most likely hate her, she could never go back to the humans, and she was as alone as a stray finger.
"But… I don't understand," she whispered. "What am I supposed to accept?"
"Leonie. Understanding begins with forgiveness," Filarion said, resting his hand lightly on her shoulder. "You must forgive yourself. What was done to you was not your fault."
"Forgive? But I don't…" Leonie didn't finish, because she had no idea what to say. She didn't hate herself. Not like that… She'd been a child. What could she have done to deserve a better life? Could she have done something? The baron had been cruel, and she had been a child… an innocent child. If she had fought harder, it only would have been worse. Or she could have run away years ago. She should have said no and found freedom in death. What should she have done differently? Perhaps it wasn't the baron who had made her weak—perhaps she had always been weak…
"Come, I think that's enough work for today on unbinding your magic," he said at last, after watching the cascade of emotions flicker across her face and catching the spark of realization.
He gave her a compassionate look and gently steered her back toward the camp. Leonie glanced up at him as they walked, and the icy, suffocating lump in her chest slipped out with a sigh. In its place, a faint warmth crept in. All her life she'd been told that everything that happened to her was her fault. Filarion was the first person to say the opposite.
Maybe he was right about her guilt.
She cleared her throat, wanting to say something, but her tears rose too quickly and stopped the words. So she followed him in silence, trying to make herself small and invisible so the others wouldn't notice how shaken she was.
"Looks like you've made another girl cry with your boring philosophy, Filarion," Aeson bellowed as soon as they appeared.
So much for going unnoticed. The whole group turned toward them.
"Aeson, shut up," Marcus groaned and shot Leonie a worried glance. Dorian's brows knit together as well, and he instinctively took a step toward her—but stopped, his features hardening again.
"If you're finished, we should get moving," he said instead, and swung onto his horse.
Leonie walked over to him with her head down, but Dorian shook his head. Damn it, he'd had a plan for today—and a few tears weren't going to be enough to soften him.
"You're riding with Marcus today," he said in a tone that allowed no argument.
The moment he said it, he regretted it. He saw her flinch, saw how much it hurt. But after this morning, he simply couldn't stand to have her that close to him. Leonie had no idea what she did to him, and he didn't want her to find out like this.
"Why?" she asked, stunned.
"Because I said so," he cut it off, nudging his horse forward.
His friends stared after him in surprise, while Marcus let out a long, theatrical sigh.
"Don't mind him. Dorian clearly bit into some rotten fish this morning, that's why he's acting like a complete ass," he said loudly enough that Dorian could be absolutely certain the jab was meant for him.
Dorian was just about to shoot him a murderous look over his shoulder when Marcus stepped forward, wrapped the confused, heartbroken girl in his arms and hugged her.
"It'll pass," he promised, then lifted her onto his horse, swung up behind her and set the animal to a slow walk.
Jealousy and guilt gnawed at Dorian's insides as he watched the intimate little scene. He'd really messed this up. It should have been him comforting Leonie. And on top of that, he needed to make it very clear to his friends that if anyone ever brought her back in that state again after training, he was going to beat them to a pulp.
Maybe it had been a mistake to entrust her instruction to them at all. Leonie was so fragile, and these men… these men were elephants in a china shop.