Enara didn't mean to imagine Kael being catapulted off the castle ramparts.
It just sort of… happened.
Mostly because he was still talking about Liria.
Liria's hair, Liria's eyes, the "tragic sorrow" in Liria's expression. The way she'd stood motionless on the battlefield, looking like a goddess forged in heartbreak and moonlight. His words, not Enara's.
If he said "there was just something in her aura" one more time, Enara was going to throw her chair at him.
With her mind.
Using actual magic.
And then set it on fire.
"—and when she looked at me, it was like she was screaming for help, but through a storm, and the storm was her soul, you know?"
"I don't know," Enara said tightly, arms folded so tightly across her chest it felt like she might snap her own ribs. "I really, really don't."
