She reaches forward and presses a button, switching the screen to an image of me in the ogof during the Rite. This time, I see it through new eyes. What it would look like to someone who wasn’t there, who didn’t know what I was doing and had never witnessed the private Rite. I stand at the stone, with Excalibur raised and blood dripping down my palm. Root dances around the blade and my arms, flaring outward. I see the Mageguard shielding the Regents from me, not my flame. I see the translucent dome as the only thing standing between them and my power, while my eyes are distant, unfocused… and I am out of control.

Tears sting at the corners of my eyes.

“Proposals accepted,” Aldrich says. “They are elegant, Cestra. Well done. Our final measure is, of course, how to proceed with Briana herself.”

My head snaps up. “You can’t keep me here forever.”

“If I may,” Erebus begins, and Aldrich cedes the floor to him. “My proposal is that we do keep Briana here at the Institute. My team and I will further study her abilities—safely, of course.”

Cestra crosses her arms and leans back. “I agree. She can’t control her power. Her aether draws hot and cannot be forged. This red mage flame appears only when she is in mortal danger, not unlike Merlin children before they are trained.”

“Or Morgaines,” Gabriel says, his voice cutting. “We have heard they are on the move. We have heard they have sent a Shadowborn to this very chapter.”

“She is not a Morgaine,” Erebus says dryly.

“How would you know?” Gabriel asks, drumming his fingers on the table. “A Morgaine has not been witnessed by this Council in hundreds of years.”

Erebus hisses, baring long canines. “Because I can detect the sorceress’s children. I can taste their magic. And because I say so.”

Their voices drift to the background as I stare at the screen, trying to see myself through other peoples’ eyes. Remembering Arthur’s demand that my friends kneel before me. Wondering if he knew something that I didn’t about what true power really looked like.

“Could she be trained to control her power on her own?” Aldrich asks.

“By whom?” Cestra counters with a snort. “We could train her like a Merlin, but to what end? As the Scion of Arthur, she is the anchor to the Spell of Eternity.” She snaps. “One mistake, and Legendborn power is gone forever.”

“And would we want to train her anyway?” Erebus murmurs. “To wield either of her aether abilities? We have already decided not to allow her near the blade. This is why, at this juncture, it is best to secure her for further study and testing under my supervision—”