Mags nodded.
“What I will tell you is that for the next four to six moons, I think you can consider yourself free to be a normal Trainee.” Nikolas grinned. “Or at least, as normal as Trainees ever are. Play Kirball, humor Marchand, go have Midsummer Festival with Lydia and her friends, flirt with my daughter—”
He laughed when Mags blushed hotly.
“What, did you think I hadn’t noticed?” he asked mockingly. “Just how preoccupied with my duties do you think I am?”
Mags blushed again.
“You will be doing something actually quite important when you do all these things, Mags,” Nikolas continued, sobering. “You’ll be integrating yourself with the rest of the Trainees. You’ll be establishing yourself, not just to them, but in your own mind, as one of the Circle. Do you understand what I am saying, Mags?”
Mags blinked thoughtfully. “I... think so, sir.”
“Believe it, Mags. Because there is not a bit of doubt in anyone else’s mind after last night.” Nikolas stood up to go. “There is no one, in all of Valdemar, more fit to be a Herald than you.”
The words echoed in his mind and followed him down into sleep, bringing healing in their wake. There were unanswered questions, still, and a great many of them. But for now, they could wait.