Everything hurt.
I sat beside the princess, staring up at the sky, the fire crackling in front of us.
"He's amazing." Anna was saying, dodging and weaving back and forth in her seat.
"He's a bastard is what he is." I said, rubbing my wrists.
"How did he use my spell against me? Is he a mage?"
I shook my head. "No, no, he's not a mage, it's just a peculiarity of his people. He's from the Shattered Palace. They were a nation right in the middle of the Empire. Well, more a house than a nation. The whole country was split into diverging bloodlines, all of which descended from a race of mortals that were immune to magic. Their blood has been watered down over the centuries, so instead of being immune to magic, Rowan is a spellbreaker. He can manipulate the weave and redirect any magic thrown at him."
"Are there many spellbreakers?"
I shook my head. "No, highness. He's the last one."