queen,â she said, sitting up straight.
âDid she? I donât recall that being in the job description.â
âWell, then why are you here?â
Skonas rubbed his hands together. âI am here to teach you three lessons. You will then use those lessons to set yourself a fourth and final lesson.â
âAnd . . . and then Iâll know how to be queen?â
Skonas sniffed. âIs that important?â
Jeniahâs heart fell. He wasnât making any sense. This odd man did not seem capable of teaching her anything, let alone how to rule her people. Clearly the queen, in her weakened state, had not been very diligent in choosing her daughterâs new tutor.
âThis is your first lesson. Itâsââ Skonas paused as Jeniah scrambled to take out a piece of parchment and dip her quill in an inkwell. He gave her the most curious look, as if he had no idea what she was doing. Then he turned his back and continued. âItâs the lesson from which all other lessons spring: you are your own best teacher. Repeat that.â
Jeniahâs brow furrowed, but she obeyed. âI am my own best teacher.â
Skonas spun around. âDo you believe that?â
âDo I believe what?â
âThat you are your own best teacher.â
Jeniah looked down at the parchment and quill. She found herself longing for Miss Dellers. Things were much clearer with the stately woman. Miss Dellers spoke only to impart important knowledge. Jeniah had no idea if any of what Skonas was saying was worth writing down.
âIf that were true,â she said slowly, âyouâd be out of a job. Wouldnât you?â
Skonas cackled. âVery astute,â he said. âStrangely clever. Youâre beginning well.â But he didnât answer her question.
Sighing, she dipped her quill into the inkwell again. But before she could write a single word, Skonas snatched her parchment away.
âWhat are you doing?â he asked, holding the page at armâs length as if it were poisonous.
âIâm writing that down. I write down all my lessons. And if all other lessons come from the first lesson,â Jeniah reasoned, âit must be the most important.â
Skonas looked amused. âYes, I can see why youâd think that.â
âSo itâs true?â
âNo.â
Skonas crumpled up the parchment and tossed it aside. Jeniah balled her fists.
âNo,â the teacher repeated, âit is not the most important lesson. The most important is the fourth. And when we get to that pointâ
if
we get to that pointâthere will be no need to write it down.â
Jeniah tossed her quill aside, exasperated. âAnd why is that?â
Skonas paused. Then he leaned forward and looked deeply into the girlâs eyes. The princess felt her pulse pound in her throat. Sheâd already resolved to dismiss everything the man had said. But that look in his eyes . . . The same instinct that fueled her curiosity about Dreadwillow Carse now told her one thing: Skonas was about to speak an irrefutable truth.
âBecause it will be imprinted on your soul.â
As Jeniah pondered his meaning, the teacher pursed his lips and whistled. Gerheart called in return and then swooped down, landing on Skonasâs gloved arm. Skonas nodded to the princess and turned to the door.
âWhere are you going?â Jeniah asked.
âWeâre done for today.â Skonas exited without another word.
Chapter Four
NO ONE LIVING IN EMBERFELL COULD REMEMBER THE LAST TIME a gloamingtide fête followed Tower Rise so closely. A quick look through the history books found no such instance in the last two hundred years.
But death never claimed monarchs on a convenient schedule. It was impossible to predict whether the two eventsâone a calendar mainstay, the other a jape of fateâmight coincide. Now, they did. Just three short days following the