Chapter Fifteen #2
His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Stefan has spent a great deal of time away from home since you married, Remi. More than I’d think proper for a bridegroom.
I believe he went out on your wedding night, even.
On the evening that you visited us for dinner, you made quite a show, but I’m afraid I’m not a fool. ”
My heart sank. Had it been worth it, horrifying his lady wife and infuriating him with my impertinence? Would the Lord Chancellor have resorted to a public poisoning if I hadn’t been quite so rude? Or had that been my punishment as well as a practical way to achieve his goal?
I believe he went out on your wedding night…and Lord Ettori was having the house watched. Of course. The interval between Stefan leaving the house this morning and this visitation had been just sufficient for a spy posted in sight of the door to run and alert his master.
“My husband has spent a great deal of time with me,” I said, knowing that I’d left too long a pause and hoping he’d attribute it to fear and stupidity. Some evil genius made me add, “He even escorted me to my first ball last night. It was magical.”
The man standing by the window let out a short cough, and Lord Ettori’s nostrils flared, beard and eyebrows seeming to bristle at me. Now that would be magic, to make them move on their own. My turn to choke down a cough.
“Speaking of magic,” Lord Ettori said smoothly, “I wished to discuss that with you.”
Oh, thank the gods. What would I have done if he’d demanded that I pull down my breeches for an inspection instead?
Right now I had Stefan’s protection, at least when he stayed home to give it, but a brawl in which the Lord Chancellor and his mage tried to take my pants off by force while every servant in the house came running would cause a scandal everyone in Nevaia would relish.
Stefan’s anger might be enough to destroy our fragile truce.
“I understand that mages who’ve suppressed their powers for too long often have trouble recovering them,” Lord Ettori went on. “I’ve been worried about you, Remi. I would like to see you access your magic. To put my mind at ease on several fronts.”
The urge to light his beard on fire rose up anew. No, that would be at least as scandalous.
“I don’t know what to do, though,” I said, falling back on honesty.
At the thought of doing anything with my magic, my breath came faster and my heart pounded, but a strange stillness had filled my center, like cool water welling up into a mountain pool.
My fingers itched. My body obviously knew more than I did, but I still had to direct it.
All of the books on magic I’d read had told me that precise focus on the goal was required for successful magic use.
“Most mages begin by summoning light or a spark.” I turned to the man in the corner, startled by the sound of his voice; I’d almost forgotten him. He cleared his throat. “Focus on a light, perhaps. It’s less dangerous, especially indoors.”
The robes and his knowledgeable tone…the Lord Chancellor had brought along not just a mage, but an expert witness. No, this man left nothing to chance.
And they were both staring at me expectantly.
This would be the perfect moment for the front door to open and Stefan to stride inside and demand an explanation. Help me, Ennolu!
The house remained as quiet as a tomb. Right. That had been predictable.
“Hold your hand out, palm up,” the mage continued. “Feel your power move in a conduit to your hand, and let it collect there, like water filling a bowl. And think of a light in the darkness, or something showing you the way. Find a mental image that will support the intention.”
Too bad that this mage belonged to Lord Ettori, and that I couldn’t make real use of his tutelage; his soothing voice and easy-to-follow explanations would’ve been wonderful as I explored my magic for the first time.
Of course, that presumed I’d keep using it. Didn’t I intend to take my potion again in two days? Yes. I did. Of course I damn well did.
My magic tremored. I firmly told it to knock it off.
And then I closed my eyes and did as the mage had instructed, holding my hand out and letting that cool reservoir of magic course up through my shoulder, trickle down through conduits in my arm I’d never known were there, and gather in my upturned palm, invisible but tangible, like mist.
The first thing that came to mind was a candle flame, but the mage had a point. Much as I wished I had the precise control to set only my guests on fire, I’d be more likely to burn the house down.
Instead, I fixed an image of the moon in my mind: brilliant, but chilly and remote and not at all likely to ignite anything.
Nothing seemed to happen…and then the Lord Chancellor let out a soft but audible gasp, and I felt it, a tingle in my skin and a coalescence of that cool magic.
I opened my eyes. And there, hovering over my outstretched hand, floated a delicate glowing silver-white globe no larger than a plum.
“Very good, Lord Remigius,” the mage said. “I’m impressed. Usually a mage in your condition can only produce a little flash of light.”
In my condition? He made it sound as if Stefan had gotten me pregnant, not simply taken my virginity! Of course, if he’d taken a woman as thoroughly as he’d taken me, with his thick cock opening up spaces within that no man had ever touched, spending his seed so deeply…
Those muscles I hadn’t realized I had before Stefan stretched them gave a quick, tight clench at the thought, and heat flooded into my cheeks. The tiny moon vanished in a puff of vaporous silver.
“I’m not in any sort of condition,” I sputtered. “Obviously!”
I’d have expected Lord Ettori to chastise me for my rudeness to his mage, but instead he smiled.
Broadly, and with something horribly like charm.
And despite the shiver that ran through me at the sight—if I’d pleased him, that had to be bad for me in some way, and gods, why did he want confirmation of this so obsessively?
—for a moment I understood why Lady Estella had married him.
When he’d been young and presumably happy, he must’ve been nearly as handsome as my husband.
And my magic had made him happy, even if it couldn’t make him young again. Ugh.
“No, of course not,” Lord Ettori said soothingly.
“In perfect condition, perhaps, if anything. Very well!” He clapped his hands to his knees and stood.
Long-ago training in proper manners took over for me, bringing me to my feet as well.
“I have other appointments, and so I fear we must bid you farewell. For now, Remi. Only for now.”
Not if I changed my name, wore a disguise, and fled on the next ship leaving the harbor.
“Of course,” I said, forcing a smile. The sooner I agreed politely, the sooner he’d leave.
With another unsettlingly bright smile and a cheerful farewell, Lord Ettori strode from the room, deigning to open the door himself but letting it swing so that it almost clipped the mage in the nose as he followed.
“I wish you the best, Lord Remigius,” he said, and hurried after the Lord Chancellor.
Oddly, I believed him. Maybe he’d been blackmailed too. Or more likely, he simply didn’t know why he’d been brought along and thought he’d been meant to help me recover my magic after such a long hiatus. His intentions might be good.
I couldn’t say as much for my father-in-law.
The moment the door shut firmly behind my unwanted guests, I could finally blow out a long breath and suck in a new one, leaning down to brace on my knees and let the spots fade from my vision.
Thank the gods they were gone. And damn Stefan for disappearing on me, anyway!
I briefly considered following my original plan to go out for the day to savor some of the city’s luxuries (Aldrich had mentioned a bookshop right next to a café selling fruit ices, and I could hardly imagine the decadence), and enjoy the sunshine on my face.
But no. Stefan needed to know what had happened as soon as possible. If I went out, I risked missing him.
The Lord Chancellor’s carriage wheels faded out of hearing. I drew another deep breath. Time to find a bracing cup of tea to sip while I waited for Stefan, damn him.
Halfway up the stairs, I paused, my eye caught by Stefan’s closed study door.
Tea, or would something stronger be preferable? The brandy didn’t sound at all appealing, but he’d had a decanter of red wine, too, and that would be pleasant. I could sip it slowly and try to summon that globe again.
With a fizzy sensation in my chest from my great daring, I turned the knob and stepped into my husband’s sanctum.
It was as quiet, civilized, and gentlemanly as I remembered.
My heart pounded as I crossed to the smaller window, turned the latch, and cranked it open.
A fresh sea breeze brushed over my heated face and ruffled my curls.
We were married. This study, and the window, and the comfortable chair, and the wine all belonged to me equally, didn’t they?
And if he had any objection to that, he could soak his handsome head in the nearest privy.
I poured myself a glass, sipped—mmm, we’d never had anything that soft and delicious at the abbey—and settled myself where I could see the square of blue sky through the open window. Stefan would be home soon, surely, and until then, I’d gather my thoughts.