Nova moves like a person on a mission, every step with a purpose.

Don, the wizard, is still here. And his presence sends her nerves into a spiral. He is a danger to the people she cares for and she needs proof.

It’s the perfect moment.

He’s alone in the library without the former king. It’s a rarity when they are apart.

She’s not one for a dramatic entrance, but as she pushes the heavy wooden doors open, she may as well play into it.

“Well hello there. I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting,” Don says, his back is to her. His head tilts up looking at a book on the shelf just above his head.

This room is impressive, even to Nova who doesn’t really care for books. Shelves, ceiling high, just overflowing with novels with dark covers and gold designs.

“I know who you are,” Nova addresses flatly.

“Yes. I am Prince Sebastian’s royal advisor, Don. And you are?” He tries again, turning to face her this time. She narrows her eyes, studying him at this closer angle.

At the gala, she only got what he wanted to present to the crowd. Here in the library, he is more relaxed, perhaps a closer look at who he really was.

He towers over her with his tree like stature, which could feel intimidating to anyone else, but Nova is rarely intimidated. His attire is similar to the gala, fancy and unnecessary. When Nova dresses, it is practical. What can be useful for her. Never more than what she needs or else it could weigh her down.

Studying Don, clearly he does not think the same. With all the silver etching in his many layers and matching shiny jewelry, he indulges in the finer things in life. He wants to show it off.

Nova despises this kind of person.

“Nova,” she finally introduces herself after a long pause, just to make him feel uncomfortable.

Though he doesn’t look uncomfortable.

The smirk on his face would almost indicate pleasure. Like he is pleased that they are speaking.

“It is lovely to meet you, Nova,” he says. She holds in a wince at his emphasis on her name. Something about the way it sounds rolling off his tongue makes her stomach curl.

“I wish I could say the same.”

He chuckles at her rude behavior which normally has the opposite effect.

Her whole body tenses when she realizes that he’s the one controlling their conversation. By him not reacting to her sharp words and her getting riled up, he is the one with the power.

Even without using his actual magical powers.

“Well you certainly are a blunt little lady, aren’t you?” He comments, the ending sounding a bit softer and higher pitched. Like he was speaking with a child. Or Haze towards an animal.

It doesn’t matter how she feels on the inside. He can’t see her falter. So she has to keep up the appearance of nonchalance. “I don’t think anyone in their right mind would call me a lady.”

He gives a teasing bow of his head, “Let me be the first then.”

“I’d rather you not be,” she retorts. Her blade on her hip feels particularly heavy. Even if she were to drive that deep into his gut, crimson staining those fancy clothes, he wouldn’t be her first kill. Not even close.

Unfortunately she can’t kill the former king’s advisor.

No matter how much she wants to.

“Let’s skip the pleasantries, shall we?” Don asks, though she knows he isn’t really looking for her opinion. He must be getting tired of this verbal game.

Neither of them were giving an inch, so it doesn’t surprise her that he wants to cut to the chase.

“And I thought this was such a nice conversation. Getting sick of my presence already?” She teases, trying to see how far she can push this conversation. How far she can push him.

Maybe if she does far enough, he’ll confirm what she already knows in her bones.

“You and I both know you are not here for small talk.” He raises his eyebrows in a way that gives off nonthreatening. But it’s a targeted statement. “Finally something we can agree on,” she drawls.

It’s one of the few times that she struggles to keep her cool. Most things don’t bother her because she has conditioned herself to only care about certain things: Haze, the Wild Thicket, and only certain people in the Oreza kingdom.

Anything outside of those aren’t her concern.

But the world isn’t that black and white.

Because other stuff has been seeping into her heart.

When he just stands there and waits, she decides to put her cards on the table, “The dragon. Why did you put a spell on him?”

“That?” He lets out a boisterous laugh as if Nova told the funniest joke he’s ever heard.

Which would be weird since no one has ever called her funny.

“That’s your question?” He questions in apparent disbelief.

His repetition confuses her. It didn’t feel like a silly question to her. It is actually very serious in her mind.

“Should I have a different one?”

“No, no. It is a fine question. Just not one I expected.”

What should she have asked if he was expecting a different question?

She’s missing something.

In his previous laughter, he backed up and leaned against the high bookshelves for support. It is in that position he now stays. The picture of being unfazed. “Yes it was me if that is what you truly desire to know,” he easily admits.

While the admission makes her feel validated, that alone doesn’t help her. She’s needs to know why. If you know the motivation, evidence isn’t too far away.

“My question was why,” she pushes.

His eyes shift towards the books to his left, pretending to be interested in the titles. He’s wasting her time, and he knows it.

“The answer to that, my dear, is a bit more complicated,” he answers unhelpfully. There is something underlying in his tone. Like the word ‘complicated’ meaning much more than she can understand.

It’s like an itch that she can’t get. It’s constant and just there. Irritating and concerning.

Glaring at him, she orders, “Don’t call me ‘dear.’”

“Oh, so pet names are only exclusive to that devoted knight. What was his name again?” He pretends to think, bringing a finger to his chin, tapping away. Then he acts as if he found it, as if he grabbed it from his brain and produced it. “Ah, Ward.”

Nova isn’t dense. She can hear the whisper of a threat in his words. He’s threatening Ward.

And she has no way of stopping him.

“Not so mouthy now, are we?” He mocks her, fully knowing he has the advantage. And it hits her like a blow to the head, that he’s had it the entire time.

“While I would love to stay and chat, I have some royal business to attend to.”

Everything he says has a purpose. This one is a jab. A reminder of his position and the trust that the royal family has in him.

And it will always be more than they have for her and Haze.