ShadowBound: The Need For Power

Chapter 789: There’s More To Those Two

Lucy glanced down at the report again, and her smile returned, this time for another reason. "What I find more interesting is that Mabel included this in her report. Which means Liam either told her enough for her to understand it, or he gave her enough freedom to report it without feeling she was betraying his trust."

Mystica’s gaze warmed with mischief. "And this surprises you?"

"A little," Lucy said. "The last time I asked Mabel what Liam was planning when he accepted Percy’s duel, she refused to say. Quite professionally, of course. She told me she could not compromise the trust she was trying to build with him for the sake of my plans."

"She is very loyal when she chooses to be."

"She is a member of my Royal Corps," Lucy said. "Her loyalty is not in question."

"No," Mystica said, and her smile turned wickedly delicate. "But the direction of it might become entertaining."

Lucy looked at her over the report. "Mystica."

"What?" Mystica asked with feigned innocence. "I merely think it is sweet. The quiet dark mage and his elegant masked protector, exchanging secrets and pretending it is all duty. Very tragic. Very romantic. Very likely to irritate everyone involved."

Lucy shook her head, though she did not look offended. "He is sixteen."

"I did not say they were being sensible," Mystica said. "I said they were being entertaining. Besides, the heart has never once asked the law courts for permission before making a fool of someone."

"I suspect Mabel would object to being called a fool."

"Mabel would object with a straight face while doing exactly what I accused her of," Mystica said.

Lucy returned to the report, but she allowed the conversation to breathe. She could indulge Mystica’s teasing to a point because beneath the playfulness, there was always an observation worth hearing.

Mystica saw things in the academy that reports could not fully capture. She saw glances, silences, the shift of a posture, the difference between obedience and trust. If she believed Mabel’s attachment to Liam was becoming more personal than official, then Lucy would be foolish to dismiss it outright.

The next section of the report concerned the Nalim assessment.

As Lucy read, her faint amusement faded, replaced first by concentration, then by astonishment that she did not bother hiding completely. The details were thorough: the environment Liam had been dropped into, the threats encountered, the level of restraint he did and did not show, the feats he accomplished, the sheer scale of his survival decisions, and the concerning aftermath of his actions.

Lucy’s fingers slowed over the page, and by the time she reached the later notes, she was no longer reading as a queen simply measuring an asset. She was reading as a mother forced to remember that the asset had a face, an age, and a body that could collapse under the weight placed on it.

"This is far beyond what I expected," Lucy said quietly. "The assessment alone would have strained most students beyond their limits, but he..." She stopped, searching the page again. "He was excessive."

Mystica did not interrupt.

Lucy turned another page. "Effective, yes. Impressive, certainly. But excessive. Some of this feels out of character. Liam is not careless. Ruthless, perhaps, when necessary. Cold. Practical. But there is a difference between controlled brutality and this."

Mystica’s expression softened by a degree, though her tone remained smooth. "From what I saw, I believe he was frustrated."

Lucy looked up.

Mystica held her gaze. "Not merely angry in the moment. Frustrated in the deeper sense. Pressurized. He had too much inside him and nowhere acceptable to place it, so when Nalim gave him enemies that did not require mercy, he used them as the wall he could finally strike."

Lucy was silent for a while.

The morning light shifted slowly across the office floor. Outside, the palace continued its business. Somewhere beyond the walls, guards changed positions, servants moved through corridors, and ministers waited for their turn to be seen.

But inside the office, Lucy’s thoughts settled around the image of a sixteen-year-old boy carrying power, hatred, trauma, political attention, and expectations he had never been old enough to ask for.

She thought of Chris.

That comparison arrived before she could stop it, and once it did, it refused to leave.

Liam was the same age as her son. Different life, different nature, different burdens, yes, but still a boy. A dangerous boy. A brilliant boy. A boy with darkness in his veins and fire at his fingertips, but a boy all the same.

Lucy had invested in him because she saw value, and she did not regret that. But value did not erase the fact that someone so young had been made to carry far too much.

"I cannot blame him," Lucy said at last.

Mystica said nothing, and perhaps that was the kindest response she could have offered.

Lucy closed the report halfway, her hand resting on its cover. "What I do wonder is why Mabel did not include that interpretation herself. She is supposed to be watching him closely. Protecting him. If his emotional condition was affecting his actions, she should have noticed."

Mystica arched a brow. "Perhaps she did."

Lucy’s eyes narrowed slightly. "Then why omit it?"

"For the same reason she refused to tell you what he was planning before Percy’s duel," Mystica said. "Trust. Liam is a complicated child, Lucy. His battle intelligence is sharp enough to make grown warriors look embarrassingly simple, but emotionally?"

She tilted her head, considering the best phrasing.

"He is not unintelligent. That would be too easy. He simply does not understand himself cleanly. He can read a battlefield better than he can read the shape of his own grief."

Lucy absorbed that with a slow breath.

Mystica continued, gentler now beneath the teasing edge. "Mabel may have judged that writing his frustration plainly into a royal report would feel too much like exposing him. Especially if he has begun trusting her with things he does not yet know how to say. She may be protecting the bridge between them."

"The bridge," Lucy repeated.

"Oh, do not pretend you dislike that word now," Mystica said. "You have built half your reign on bridges, knives, and well-timed smiles."

Lucy gave her a flat look.

Mystica smiled beautifully. "Also, Mabel likes him."

"Mystica."

"And he likes her," Mystica added, undisturbed. "In his strange, quiet, emotionally underdeveloped way. So yes, you should expect more of this. Reports that tell you enough to be useful but not enough to make him feel stripped bare. Little omissions dressed as professional judgment. Loyalty wrapped in discretion. Very inconvenient. Very human."

Lucy leaned back in her chair, not entirely pleased but not unconvinced. Unlike her, Mystica was inside the academy. She saw Liam and Mabel in motion, not only as names and summaries on paper. She saw what happened between reports. If Mystica believed the dynamic was becoming something layered, Lucy would not dismiss it as mere teasing, no matter how much Mystica enjoyed making it sound scandalous.

"Stars help me," Lucy said. "As if Liam Hunter was not already complicated enough."

"Complicated children grow into fascinating adults," Mystica said.

"They also grow into national incidents."

"That too," Mystica admitted.

Lucy closed Mabel’s report fully and set it aside, though not far. It would need to be reviewed again later with more attention, especially the assessment details and Mabel’s omissions.

But for now, she had read enough to confirm what she already suspected. Liam was growing. Quickly. Dangerously. Usefully. And not without cost.

Not wanting to circle her thoughts around Liam any longer, Lucy shifted the conversation before it could sink too deeply into concern. "Has Galen returned yet?"

Mystica’s expression changed in a way that might have seemed casual to anyone else. To Lucy, it was answer enough before she spoke.

"No. Not yet."

Lucy frowned slightly. "This is the second time he has been away this long."

"Galen has never been fond of moving according to other people’s sense of timing," Mystica said. "He is probably taking his time. Or he ran into something capable of keeping him occupied."

"With Galen, that list is not long."

"No," Mystica agreed. "Which is what makes it interesting."

Lucy did not like that answer, but she accepted it for what it was. Galen Magna was not a man easily contained by ordinary complications. If he was delayed, it was either by choice, by curiosity, or by something strong enough to deserve attention.

None of those possibilities were particularly comforting, but Lucy had long ago learned that worrying over Galen’s movements was like worrying over lightning after it had already left the sky.

She gathered the completed reports into a neater arrangement, then glanced toward the smaller stack awaiting later review. "And Dove?" she asked. "How is she doing? Is she still trying to run those mad tests on Ember?"

Mystica gave a soft laugh, the earlier heaviness giving way to amusement again. "Yes. Very much so. Dove remains convinced Ember is either a breakthrough waiting to happen or a disaster that has not yet found the correct room to explode in."

"That sounds like Dove."

"She has been enjoying herself far too much," Mystica said. "I believe she frightened two assistants yesterday by describing an experiment as ’mostly survivable.’"

Lucy stared at her for a second, then sighed as she stood from behind the desk. "I have missed her."

"That is one reaction," Mystica said, rising as well with her coffee still in hand.

"I should go say hello before she decides affection can be replaced with research funding," Lucy said, smoothing the front of her attire before stepping around the desk.

Mystica followed with an easy grace, her smile returning to its usual playful curve. "With Dove, affection and research funding may already be the same language."

"Then I will speak it carefully," Lucy said.

Together, the two women left the royal office, the morning reports neatly arranged behind them and the weight of kingdoms temporarily set aside.