Simon’s trip south gave him only one ce to experiment with his bde, and that was against a group of drunken meraries that took him for a helpless old man. Though he didn’t kill all of them because they weren’t bandits or worse, he did take the fingers on one man’s right hand, a the pectoralis major and tissimus dorsi muscles oher man’s dominant arm wheook him uhe armpit, ensuring he’d never be able to fight agaiher.

  He left both men bleeding and crippled but alive. He also learhat a single dose of life force, even from a human, wasn’t enough to make him fiend for more. That was good but also troubling.

  “So let’s say I stab someowice without feeling like I need another hit tomorrow,” he told himself. “That’s just enough for one word of power or enough to teract a month of natural aging. That means I’d o fight all the time to keep from getting old.”

  Or I’ll o build up a tolerance so I drain more energy on the occasions where an opportunity presents itself, he added betedly.

  Realistically, the only way he’d be able to keep up with the way he used magic, even sparingly, would be to lead a very bloody existence. While he’d certainly dohat in the past, in lives where he’d participated in Brin’s civil war or fought against the taurs at Crowvar, he didn’t expect that he’d suddenly be plunged into anything simir in this life. Ohing he knew for sure was that he didn’t want all of his lives from now on to be bloodbaths, even if he eventually died of old age now and then as a result.

  Still, he had a long time to think about all of these issues and more on his long walk south. Along the way, he visited with Niko a his old apprentice’s young family and admired some of the other works of art he’d painted years before, but mostly, he mulled things over. He thought about what he should do with his life, he thought about where his evil twin had ended up, and most of all, he thought about how he was going to handle reunification with Elthena and so much time with a son.

  My son, he repeated, almost disbelievingly. He’d painted several rge murals of the boy, but he’d never seen him. Truthfully, Simon had never even imagined he’d bee a father. Not even after he and Freya had almost had a family of their own. Su idea was too painful to be allowed to be anything but a distant dream.

  It wasn’t painful now, though. Despite his initial trepidation, his heart grew lighter and lighter as he approached Ionar, and by the time he reached the city itself, the day of his soh birthday was drawing near.

  Simon had himself a fioga sewed for the occasion and spent those st few weeks hobnobbing with the city's elites as he put his reputation to use. Though he never presented himself to court, by the day of the audience, his name was on the lips of everyone who mattered. It felt strange for him to seek out attention like this, but it was what o be dohe Queen said she would choose him, but he knew better than ahe Queen did not always have the final say ihings, not when she had to think about the opinions of her advisors.

  When the day finally arrived, and he presented himself to the court, he was one of dozens of faces that were there seeking the role. Some of them he’d heard of, but most were opportunists. They were simply men eager for the fame or the sary that would e with w for the royal family. Simon strove for her, but then, at least acc to their words, her did they.

  Simon had expected other applits. That did not bother him, though he was slightly disappoihat Seyom wasn’t there in person for him to see.

  All the other men had flowery words about public servid young minds in the brief speech each of them reseo make. Simely eschewed that. Instead of vishing himself with eborate praise, he let his aplishments speak for himself. “I am Ennis of in. I need no introdu. I have tutored Lord Alexin’s children and created many public works of art. You may see them and judge them for yourself if you wish to know me better.”

  “Thank you, Master Ennis,” the Queen said when he was done. “I have seen the mural that you did in Thebian, of Seyom and I. It was quite lovely.”

  He, of course, bowed at that but said nothing else. Instead, he simply studied the agiy ohrohe Queen had gray hairs of her own now and more than a few smile lines around her mouth, but that didn’t make him love her any less. Not after all these years.

  After that, he endured another pack of introdus, each of which was loha, before they were finally permitted the portion of the very public ceremony. Slowly but surely, the field was winnowed as each of the would-be teachers were themselves tested by nobles with standing iy.

  The results ranged from impressive to humorous, depending on who it was that asked a question and how hard it was to achieve the ahe assembled men of learning were made to do plex math problems and expin how they did them as if they were speaking to a young child. If they failed to get the correswer, or they got the correswer but expi in such a way that a child could not grasp it, they were escorted out of the grand hall.

  Simon was he best at math, so he felt fortuhat the good people of Ionia had never ied anything more difficult than simple geometry and basic algebra, so everything was within his abilities, more or less. The expnation portion, though, was where he really excelled. It turned out that spending years teag children made you good at pretending to teaaginary children, and Simon’s response for how one would calcute the perimeter of a circle received a smattering of appuse when he was finished.

  The oratory portion and the art portions gave him everouble. He read a poem about the Queen’s grandfather and the great curse, which os, though he did not let on to his icism there. That se only took out a few men who were poor public speakers, but bined with the math, there were only half a dozen remaining applits left for a very public art project.

  Each of them was given an easel with fine paper, charcoal, and an hour and told to draw whatever they liked. Simon had to think about it only for a moment before he started putting charcoal to paper and skillfully blending it to create the sketch of the work he’d pnned. With only an hour there was only so much to do, even after all these years he held the image so clearly in his mind that he felt like he was halfway done before everyone else had done more thach the barest outlines.

  There were many things he could draw that would let Elthana know that it was him as if there was any doubt, but there was only ohat erfect for this moment. It ce that only the two of them had seen. And as the miicked by, he sketched out the tiny cloud city of the oracle, oroke at a time. The wispy clouds along the rim were easiest, and after that came the still ke in the ter and the city proper. When their hour was decred up, he wasn’t quite doh all the terraced fields that lihe rim, but he was close.

  The e wasn’t even close, as far as he was ed. To a man, every other applit had drawher Seyom in a way that made him look less like a boy and more like a young demigod or Queehena as she might have looked when she was a little younger and prettier. He khat she would hate all of those.

  Still, she preteo appreciate them and gave all the other men praise as she walked around the hall judging the results. “What is this pce then?” she asked when she reached him.

  “It is, at least acc to the sages, the pce where the oracle dwells,” he admitted. “No o the Kings and Queens of the realm might go there, of course, but this is how I see it when I read the myths and legends.”

  She said nothing to his response and walked on, but he saw her eyes tear up briefly and knew his art had found its mark. When it was all said and done, she allowed three teo stay, including him. Then, she allowed the court to debate the issue for a time.

  Simo certain he was the front-runner and that all he had to do was bide his time and politely answer further questions. Still, when one of the local Lords loudly pined, “A boy who will one day be King should not be educated by an artist. It will give him too many feminine sensibilities.”

  “Who would you suggest that he be trained by then?” Simon asked amiably.

  “He already has oher,” the man procimed, causing a few ughs. “I say he does not need a sed one. Let him be trained by some retired general. Or perhaps a nobleman that has served in the army.”

  “Our prince will doubtlessly o know how to fight,” Simon agreed. “The world is a dangerous pce. How is your skill with a bde, sir?”

  “Impeccable,” the lord procimed, striking a pose as the rest of the court started to wonder exactly where this was leading.

  “Excellent,” Simon said. “Duel me then, and we shall ehat the future is in good hands.”

  There was a long silehen, before the man finally croaked, “Excuse me?”

  “I said, you require that Prince Seyom’s skill with a sword to be a priority, therefore, let me, or any of the other didates for his teacher duel you, as a final test.”

  This made the Queen lean forward in i, but she said nothing. Instead, the man said, “Well, surely there are other people who are better equipped to—”

  “Do not ge your mind now, good sir,” Simon insisted. “Not in front of all these fine Lords and Ladies, lest they fuse your pragmatism for cowardice. Surely, you are not afraid of one old artist.”

  That was the push the noble needed, and with a look at the Queerode forward and said, “Please, Your Majesty, let me put this chartan in his pce.”

  “I’ll allow it, but to the blood or the surrender only. There is nothing here worth dying for,” she said mildly, gesturing for one of her guards to lend me his sword. “We shall sider this the final test then. If good master Ennis prevails, he be my son’s tutor. The other learned men will, of course, be allowed to challenge him in turn afterward if he’s so fident.”

  Simon repressed the sarcastic thank-you he almost gave her for that sed part. Instead, the floor cleared, the two fighters wide berth as Simon and his oppo moved to the ter of the floor and loosened up. For his part, Simoeo be stiff and inexperienced with the type of bde he’d been given, but that was just to make the show that was going to happehat much better.

  He could tell from the first few moves that his noble oppo had made that the man had studied dueling in his youth but had dotle with it in the remainder of his very important life. He’d certainly never fought in a war or killed a man.

  When the duel started, the noble came out quid hard, hoping to end this quickly. Simon stayed just out of reach, parrying only now and then as he led the man around the room by his nose for half a mio get the measure of him. Still, he waited for him to get frustrated and shout, “Strange behavior for one who insisted on this battle.”

  That was when Simon struck. He didn’t even move too fast. He just shed out with a series of blows to force his oppo on the defehen, when the man’s pommel was where Simon wa to be, he struck it instead, disarming him immediately as his bde soared through the air.

  Simon had meant to catch it and end up with both bdes, but his angle was off, and the thi wide. Drama aside, his bde was still pressed against his oppo's neck when it was done, and the appuse that followed was raining down on him, not on the humiliated noble who had been talking such a big game.

  Simon immediately offered both other prospective teachers the opportunity to fight him. “You e at me together if that would make you feel more fortable,” he offered, though they both hastily deed.

  After that, there was nothi for him to do but accept the Queen’s offer, meet his son, ale into his new life, or at least what was left of it.