The orem wasn’t vanishing. It was being contained or perhaps buried so far that it couldn’t find its way to the surface. And if I could figure out how to free it, maybe King Novakin would decide I was the better match for his son. I nibbled on my lip as my thoughts drifted back to the field and the deeply buried veil, as a singular question probed my mind—where had that veil come from?
What if it's somehow the king's doing-
