They passed through an opening in the trees and came to a small clearing. Kerrigan shivered as they stepped out into the open field. Something about it felt different than the rest of the forest they’d ridden through.

“I know that you are not what you say you are,” Wynter finally said. She hopped off of her stallion and settled her black leather riding boots into the soft grass.

“What do you mean?”

“This whole act with my brother. It was very convincing, but you are not just some half-Fae he seduced.”

Kerrigan dropped to the ground next to her. She didn’t know how she would get back up, but what was more important was that she had misjudged the princess. Wynter had seen through the act that the rest of the court believed.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because of this,” Wynter said and then set her hand upon the open air behind her.

There was a buzzing, and then her hand stopped. In fact, it was almost pushed backward. The buzz turned into a rumble, and Wynter retreated her hand from the invisible wall blocking her exit.

“The barrier,” Kerrigan said in surprise. They hadn’t traveled that far. They must have been much closer on the outskirts of the mountain rather than surrounding the village. “I didn’t realize we’d gone far enough.”

“It’s not a perfect circle. If it were, we’d have more space. It’s more like a corset, tightening the strings.”

“I don’t know how the wall has anything to do with me and Fordham.”

“Oh, nothing to do with Fordham,” Wynter said. “And there you go, using his given name.” She smiled as if she’d won that round.

“I …”

Wynter held up a hand. “Save it. I don’t know your game with him, but I don’t care. That’s up to my father.”

“Then, what am I doing here?” Kerrigan asked.

She drew her magic into her, anticipating the fight that was surely coming.

“Oh, none of that,” she said, waving her hand at Kerrigan. “You can let go. It’s so blinding.”

Kerrigan blinked. “You can see my magic?”

“Clearly. Please, drop it. Gods, how much do you have? You and Fordham together must be formidable.”

Kerrigan’s magic went out like snuffing a candle. She’d always had a little bit of the ability to sense other people’s magic, but that was only when they were actively performing magic. She certainly couldn’t see it like, apparently, Wynter could. She’d never even heard of such a thing. Sensing magic was rare enough. Seeing it would be a huge advantage.

“Thank you,” Wynter said. “You’re already bright enough without drawing on your reserves.”

“You knew the moment you saw me,” Kerrigan realized.

“Of course. My father keeps me as a silent weapon to judge his enemies. He sent me to judge your magical abilities.”

Kerrigan swallowed. “I see.”