“I did.”
“Do you have a plan?”
Randall began to smile.
I OVERHEARD something not meant for me. I should have kept walking. But I was rooted in place.
“I’m proud of you,” the King said to his son just inside the gates of Camp HaveHeart.
“What?” Justin asked. “I didn’t—”
“What you said. About Verania. And its people.”
Justin sighed. “I was just trying to get them to focus.”
“Were you?”
“Yes.”
The King laughed. “Even when you were a child, you got that same grumpy look on your face when you were caught showing your heart. I always found it to be the most endearing thing.”
“Dad, I’m not—”
“A king puts all others before himself. He does all he can for the weak and the weary, the poor and the hungry. He is kind to those who deserve it. He is firm with those who do not. He defends the Crown with all his might.”
“I know. You’ve told me many times.”
“I suppose I have. A king also inspires. Have I told you that?”
“I—no. I don’t know that you have.”
“Hmm. Well. He inspires, because without hope, all is lost. Hope is a light in the dark, something that can help lead us home. You are a light, my son. And I know that one day you will make a wonderful king. I’m proud of the man you’ve become.”
“Dad.”
“Let an old man have his words.”
“You’re not that old.”
“Very kind of you.”
“You’re going to be around for a long time.”
“I hope so.”
Silence. Then, “How do you know?”
“What?”
“That I’ll be a good king.”
“Because a good king inspires. And you inspire me.”
I left them alone after that.
Chapter 16: The Grimoires Three
MAGIC, I’VE learned, is a gift, capable of the greatest of triumphs. Or, in the wrong hands, the darkest of desires.