Miri's Pov
I couldn't stop the sharp laugh that burst out of me when the counselor sneered, his voice carrying over the chaos of the battlefield like oil slicking across water.
"You really think you've got control, girl?" he said, eyes narrowing with cruel delight.
"I could barely keep your magic from eating itself alive, and now you strut about as if it's tamed. Whatever fix you've latched onto, it's nothing but a patch. A temporary trick. It won't be enough here."
His words were meant to bite. To sink into the cracks of my doubts, the very fears I'd fought to bury when my magic started misbehaving months ago. But instead of flinching, I scoffed.
"A temporary fix?" I tilted my head, smirking even as sweat slid down the side of my temple.
"That's cute. No—what I've got isn't a patch. You were just too weak to help me. That's the truth you don't want to admit."
