Grace asks her father if he believes in magic.
“Father, you’ve traveled more than I,” Grace said. “Does true magic exist?”
Father’s eyebrows knitted together, and he stared at her. His hesitant pause told her much more than his words. “What do you mean?”
She shrugged, dropping some seed into the birdcage. “I stopped by a booth today, and the woman there told me tall tales of healers and shape changers.”
His hands clenched into fists, and she held her breath. “That’s all they were,” he said. “Tall tales.”
Grace glanced at Kyler. “Remember when Lady Phoresa saw that man at the circus who made his hand invisible?”
“They just trick your eyes,” Father said, waving his hand.
“She said shape changers were from Shyra,” Grace said, trying to sound casual. “You’ve visited to Shyra a lot. You’ve never seen anything like that?”
Father shook his head. “No, Grace. It doesn’t exist.” He patted her on her shoulder. “Don’t worry about things like that. You’ll be with the prince on his trip in a week.”
“To Nyad.” Grace smiled. “I remember when you used to tell us about magical creatures who lived in Mumbar Jungle.”
Father chuckled, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Stories to get you to sleep. Which is exactly what I need right now. Goodnight, Grace.” He kissed her on the forehead, a surprisingly gentle gesture for her father. “I’m proud of you.”
~Promising Light, Book One of the series