Chapter 9
Evie
Iburst into laughter. Loud. Awkward. All signs that I had no idea how to behave after what he’d said.
His smile vanished. “You find this amusing?” His tone was sharp enough to cut through my nerves.
I tried to stop laughing. It was harder than I’d expected.
“Sorry,” I said, still half-chuckling. “It’s just… you… I don’t know…” Words fled me entirely, and I wasn’t proud about it.
He reclined in his chair, gaze turning elsewhere. “If I’d known I’d have that effect on you, Magister, I’d have spared you by not coming to this dinner.”
My laughter died. I just stared at him, lips parted, the breath gone from me. He’d stolen my voice, and somehow, I was glad for it. Silence was safer.
Then he did the unthinkable. He looked back at me and winked.
“Pfff…” That was all I managed to say while I hid my blush as best as I could.
“I just find it interesting, that’s all,” he said.
And suddenly, I felt like the jester summoned to amuse bored nobles on rainy nights.
“Interesting how?” I asked, more defiant than I felt.
His eyes flicked back to mine, flaring, the kind of look that made my pulse trip. “Everything you feel is written all over your face.”
I frowned, uncertain again whether it was a compliment or a warning. “Most people appreciate it. Makes me look trustworthy.”
“Most people aren’t surrounded by magisters who wield words like fire arrows and emotions like kindling.”
He was right, but the fact that he knew—that he saw it—made my stomach twist.
“Well, maybe I’m not fit for this place,” I said, forcing levity. “But Bram picked me, so you’re stuck with me.”
Something softened in his expression. “I never said it was a bad thing.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
He tilted his head, studying me. “Sud. Is that where you get that attitude from?”
How dare he… I opened my mouth wide, perhaps a touch theatrical.
“I am proud of my attitude!”
He chuckled. “I can see that. But careful, Magister…” His eyes pierced right through me, pinning me in place. “One day, it will get you in trouble.”
“Maybe I like trouble, Magister,” I said before I could stop myself, stressing the word Magister with a hint of mockery I didn’t know I had in me.
That earned me a slow smirk. I didn’t know why, but it felt as though I’d stepped into a duel of wits with Kael Forloren. One I could never win.
“Don’t ask for what you can’t handle,” he said, his voice low, threaded with warning.
“And where do you get that attitude from?” I shot back, emboldened by too much wine and too little sense. “Let me guess. Hm, that smug expression on your face… Bretannia? That would explain a lot.”
The words fell like stones, and remorse hit me a second too late.
Gods, had I just sounded like an arrogant cow? I hadn’t meant it that way.
If the Court Wizard already didn’t like me, I’d just handed him a reason to.
I couldn’t play anymore. My bravado crumbled. I dropped my face into my arms on the table and groaned. “Ah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. The wine’s gone to my head.”
Stupid Evie. I was making such a fool of myself.
Selena’s words caught up to me. Adjustments… I was sure there and then that I wouldn’t be Magister Corvo by the end of the month.
Silence. Not a sound from him. Had I pushed too far? Was he gone?
I dared a glance. He was still there, watching me.
I stayed as I was, arms crossed on the table like a child in shame.
“Giving up already?” His voice broke the silence clean in two, deep and teasing.
“No!” I said too loudly, snapping upright so fast the chair protested beneath me.
Evie, you’re drunk. Stop. Leave before he annihilates you.
Alright, maybe not annihilate, but still.
I pushed back my chair to stand… or rather tried to.
My foot caught in my robe. My hands reached for something—anything—to steady me, but found only air. I would have stumbled over if not for the sudden heat around my waist.
An arm caught me. His arm.
Kael’s hold was iron and alive, locking me between his chair and mine before I could fall to my shame. For a moment I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t dare look at him. Not yet.
When I finally did, his eyes were dark as a brewing storm.
I felt everything—his warmth, his strength, the force that could squeeze and crush me if he chose.
His hand pressed firm at the small of my back, fingers burning through the fabric of my robe.
He held me there for the span of a single breath, then pulled me closer, and my wine-dazed mind betrayed me with the thought that he might draw me onto his lap.
Instead, he pushed me down with his other hand, forcing me back into my seat.
“You sit down, Evangelina. Dinner’s not over.” His voice struck like a hammer, low and final.
The heat of him lingered even after he withdrew. I sat still, obedient, the air thick between us. When Selena returned with the others, glee and wine clung to them like perfume. She brushed her hand across Kael’s shoulder as she passed, leaning close to whisper something in his ear.
I didn’t hear it.
And gods help me, I both wanted and didn’t want to know. It twisted through my chest like a corkscrew, cruel and deep.
When she sat beside me, she smiled, but her eyes were full of something.
Pity.
I still wasn’t sure whether I liked Selena. Or whether she liked me.
“It is a beautiful night, Evie,” she sang. A dirge through my ears. “Still, I understand choosing the comfort of a warm hall. The air is freezing outside.”
A servant set a plate of apple strudel before me before I could respond. Even if I had found the words, whatever I might have said, I swallowed them. I didn’t dare reveal how flushed the wine had left me. Silence was safer.
Jorren raised a toast to dessert, he and Isolde suddenly back on speaking terms. Friends, or something that resembled it. Thalen rambled about strudel. I barely heard a word.
All I wanted was to leave. Run. Hide in the corner of my chambers and forget this cursed evening. The humiliation of what had happened with Kael still burned through me, and Selena’s opacity only drove the blade deeper.
Then, as if fate enjoyed my suffering, my fork slipped from my hand.
The clink of silver on marble was lost beneath Thalen’s laughter.
“Oh, perfect,” I muttered under my breath.
I leaned down, peering beneath the table. The fork glinted near Kael’s black boot. I reached for it, and my hand accidentally touched his thigh.
What he did next stole the breath from me.
He shoved my hand aside as if swatting a fly out of orbit, but he didn’t stop there. His hand found my thigh.
Rough. Firm. Unforgiving.
He squeezed hard enough to make me gasp. A sharp yelp broke from my lips before I could stop it.
Every head turned.
Dozens of eyes fixed on me. I froze. I needed an excuse—fast—or I would drown beneath the weight of their stares.
“S-sorry. I dropped my fork,” I stammered.
A few doubtful looks lingered, but they soon turned back to their plates. Conversation resumed, shallow and distant. I was given another fork.
Kael’s hand was still there. Still pressing. Still crushing.
I sat trapped, every muscle taut, pulse roaring in my ears. I didn’t know whether to pull away or stay perfectly still. My body had already chosen for me. I couldn’t move.
It hurt. His grip was punishing, a reminder of his strength.
But beneath the pain, something darker stirred.
Desire.
It rose like a tide, burning through the fear and pooling between my thighs the longer we remained like this.
He spoke easily with the others now, voice smooth and calm, as if nothing had happened and nothing was happening. His hand remained still on my thigh, a silent claim, keeping me clutched in his talons.
And then, just as suddenly, he released me.
I released the breath I didn’t know I was holding. Reality swam back into focus. Laughter, candlelight, the faint scent of apples and wine. Tears gathered at the corners of my eyes. Selena’s words, Kael’s touch, their stares, the Lutessian red… It was all too much.
I needed to leave. To flee. To forget this night had ever happened and face tomorrow as if nothing had.
Business as usual.
But before I could rise, Kael stood.
“Magisters.” His voice carried easily across the table. “I’ll excuse myself now. Enjoy the rest of the evening.”
He cast one last glance at me. A glare of warning. Or maybe something else. I couldn’t tell. Why was it always so hard to read him?
Should I follow? The thought appeared out of nowhere, and I banished it at once.
Definitely not.
Then it came. That heavy energy wrapping around me, walls closing in.
It wasn’t the wine. It was the foreboding pulse of seerling powers, the one I could never quite silence.
I focused all I had on the strudel before me even if I wasn’t hungry anymore, fork piercing through the crust just to stay grounded.
I couldn’t handle an echo now. Not here.
When I finished, so had everyone else. Jorren called for the servants to bring digestifs.
That was my cue.
I stood, my chair scraping the floor, but my foot didn’t catch in my robe this time. That would have been the killing blow.
“Leaving so soon?” Jorren asked, his pout exaggerated by too much wine.
I nodded. “Yes. I have to be up early tomorrow. Farming business.” I tried to shrug, to sound light, though my smile must have looked like a grimace.
“Try to sleep well,” Selena said. There was no smile this time, only her blue eyes turned amber in the candlelight.
She held the flame in her gaze, as though its warmth might touch some place she kept tightly shuttered. I had no notion of what stirred in her mind. If I had been a psion like her, perhaps I might have understood, perhaps I would not have twisted every word she spoke into something sharp.
I nodded, taking her parting words as a blessing, and turned to go.
I thanked the servants for dinner, and the cold, final look she gave me, cold and distant, stung far more than it should have.
I kept my chin high until I was clear of the room, only then letting the heat rise behind my eyes and doing my best to suppress it.
I left the great hall. The wine’s warmth had long faded. My steps echoed against the torch-lit walls, guards watching but saying nothing as I passed. Servants dipped their heads in quiet greeting. I made for the grand staircase, climbing one flight and preparing for the next to reach my quarters.
Then I saw him.
Kael emerged from the shadows of the council wing, stepping into the torchlight.
“You…” I breathed. The word barely escaped me.
He approached slowly. When his face lifted into the glow, his eyes were dark as night itself.
A dozen questions swelled in my throat, but none found their way out. We stood there, the world narrowed to the space between us.
Finally, he spoke. His voice rumbled through my bones like distant thunder. “Don’t worry too much about the others, especially not Selena.” His tone made it clear he had some notion of the chaos in my mind. “Somewhere deep down, she has a good heart. Beneath all that ice and those fake smiles.”
“Are you two close?”
He paused and shrugged. “We have a complicated relationship.”
“I know—I mean… I noticed.”
“Have you?” He stepped closer.
The déjà vu struck like lightning. I backed away until my spine met the cold marble railing.
He stopped inches from me, towering over me. I could feel his cold breath, laced with wine, caress my skin and draw a shiver. I met his gaze, desperate to hold on to what little control I had left. The air thickened, charged and feral. My lips trembled.
“You shouldn’t look at me like that,” he said.
“I’m not—”
He moved before I could finish. One hand caught my jaw, the other the base of my bound hair. His grip was firm and unyielding. My breath halted.
The world blurred. His fingers pressed hard, forcing me to meet his deadly stare.
I didn’t struggle. I couldn’t. I stood frozen in the kind of fear that robs you of reason.
“The way you smiled at the table,” he murmured. His voice was low, dangerous, almost tender. “Never do that again.”
I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. My pulse hammered against his palm like prey in the wolf’s jaws.
Then, just as suddenly, he tore away, leaving only the burn of his hand on my skin.
He stood for a heartbeat, chest rising and falling, eyes wild, before his voice steadied again.
“Stay away from me, Evie.”
And then he was gone.
The silence that followed hurt. I slid down the railing until I sat on the dark blue carpet that looked black in the torchlight. My hands shook. Tears stung behind my eyes.
Hatred. That was what I’d seen in his eyes.
Pure, raw hatred.
I’d made a fool of myself. Tomorrow they would strip me of my post, my title, my stability.
And gods help me, I wanted him to come back, just so I could beg him not to take this life from me.
As I searched for a breath caught in my throat, the walls closed in fast. I tried to steady myself, to rise and flee, but I froze instead as the room went black and all went quiet.
Every shred of control I possessed had slid away with my tears.
My neck snapped. My head jerked back, and my eyes fixed on the carved ceiling. I caught a glimpse of the gilded lilies before my vision went dark and there was no return.
Images crashed over me like breakers, flashing through my mind, echoing a past I didn’t wish to see.
I saw the woods at the foot of the mountain.
I heard low voices calling, pleading, chanting.
I saw the cliffs high above, shrouded in snow. A wizard in dark green robes picked his way along a treacherous path toward the summit.
And then I saw him.
Kael stood there, his eyes gone white.
His fists were clenched as a storm gathered about him, and the claws of something gripped his heart.
Was it remorse? Was it shame?
No. It was more haunting than that.
The echoes left me as swiftly as they had seized me, and at last I could breathe again.