I never told Julian what happened that night. What happened scared me right to my core. I knew with absolute certainty what I had done.
I'd stopped Asmo's magic. Somehow. I stopped him from further harming the bird and, somehow, my magic helped heal it. He didn't seem to make a fuss when I released it later that night.
I didn't see Asmo again after that night.
Whenever Julian left, I was left alone.
Which was fine by me.
Julian and I just dove into training again. And it was training that I was more than happy to learn.
Kymra, as it turned out, promised us three months.
She'd stall for three months at most before Robyn would become suspicious. And even that wasn't guaranteed. Robyn could throw a wrench in her plans and make it much shorter than that.
Which meant I had three months to train.
Three months to heal...
Training would start at sunrise stop at lunch then continue until sundown. Every day was exhausting. And every day I would climb into the Roman tub, fill it with hot water and sit in it until my fingers would turn pruny then pass out on the bed afterward only to get up in the morning and do it all over again.
Nights were the worst.
I had nightmares almost every time I managed some sleep.
Sometimes they were so bad I'd wake up screaming, other times I was jolted awake shaking in fear.
I couldn't go back to sleep afterward, too scared to close my eyes for too long again. In an effort to try and forget them, I just threw myself into the training. I tried magic on my own in my room.
Magic, we found, did not come as naturally as we both thought it would.
Almost a month after I'd first arrived, I was still struggling to specter. I struggled at what he called the most basic magic tasks. And it wasn't for lack of effort or Julian's shortcomings as a teacher.
Julian was a great teacher. I felt like he was taking it too easy on me sometimes but he was a great teacher, nonetheless.
He was patient, kind, quick on his feet and he reminded me so much of Damien ...
Julian wasn't like Damien in the physical aspects at all.
Julian was a warrior and everything in his actions and features screamed it.
Damien had been a prince all his life then a King. His skin was alabaster, somewhat pale from years inside a castle. His hands and skin were incredibly smooth. Julian's was tanner, kissed by the sunlight like he was always doing something outside.
Damien was tall and lean with athletic, slenderly muscular arms. Julian was brawny with broader shoulders, thicker, brawny arms and calloused hands.
No. It wasn't the physical aspects that reminded me of him. It was this kindness, his patience and understanding.
All attributes that Damien had.
It wasn't Julian's lessons that weren't working. It wasn't the sarcastic exchange between the two of us, the banter that I secretly looked forward to that made the days more bearable than the last couple of months.
It was me.
Broken faerie, broken magic.
The words haunted me.
