Chapter 13
Evie
“Is there something going on between you and Kael?” Lo asked as his brush caressed my right cheek.
The question made my breath catch in my throat. What had he seen? What did he know, and why was he asking?
Lo paused, brush poised midair, eyes narrowing as he studied my reflection. “Evie.” He said my name as severely as his silken voice allowed, which, surprisingly, was very severe. “What aren’t you telling me?”
He looked like he wouldn’t paint another stroke unless I confessed, and I was not about to walk out with half my face done.
He, of course, looked flawless. A dark blue satin shirt hugged his slender frame beneath a sleeveless black vest of fine weave.
Soft leather breeches clung to his long legs, catching the glow of the setting sun like polished ink.
Kohl rimmed his amber-hazel eyes, making them gleam sharper than a cat’s, and his black hair fell smooth as silk over his shoulders.
We sat before the mirror in my bedchamber, two wooden chairs angled toward the last light. His artistic touch—an elven gift, truly—was restoring my weary face with powder, rouge, and kohl. My own skill extended only to smudges, so I had surrendered myself to his expertise.
I sighed, giving in. “Alright. Well, we’ve…” I trailed off, struggling to find words for something that was too confusing to name. “I… We had a moment. I think?”
The shock that crossed his face could have made troubadours compose epics. He spun my chair, so I faced him directly, hands smacking my knees with theatrical offense. “Tell. Me. Everything.”
So I did. A clumsy account of glances and glares, of the magisters’ dinner that had left me flushed and confused, and of today, when Kael had invaded my space in the changing booth like a storm breaking the sky.
“I don’t know whether he hates me or…” I hesitated. “Wants me.”
The words hung between us, absurd and heavy. As I spoke, I realized how strange this was to say aloud, how wrong, even. Yet confessing it to Lo steadied me. The more I spoke, the more I understood that whatever this was, it wasn’t normal Court behavior. Whatever it was needed to stop.
Because whether he hated or desired me, neither belonged here.
Lo thinned his lips, brush tapping against his chin as though weighing his next move. “Do you like him?”
What a question. “I don’t even know him,” I said, heart stuttering.
“That wasn’t the question, darling.” He smiled, slow, sly, and merciless. The kind of smile that promised he would extract the truth one way or another.
Thoughts whirled through my head, though I already knew the answer. I only wanted to make it look like it was a difficult one.
“Maybe I do,” I said at last, when enough time had passed that we’d soon be late to the Academy Ball.
“There’s something about him that just… intrigues me.
But I’m so confused. He looks at me as though I’m the worst thing in this world, and then today—gods—I thought he’d kiss me.
Or something. It feels like I’m back at school all over again.
” I almost pressed my palms to my face, nearly forgetting the paint upon it.
Lo arched a brow, his brush hovering midair. “Listen, darling, I’ll tell you this because you’re my dearest friend in all the realms.”
A pause. My heart skipped, for there was pity in his eyes, and that frightened me more than his tone.
“Kael doesn’t play games,” he said softly. “Everything he does has purpose. And he’s honest about it, brutally so. If he must break a heart to achieve what he wants, he won’t hesitate. The women he’s touched tend to forget that.”
Those women again. The ones who didn’t come out quite right.
“Who are they?” The question escaped before I could catch it.
“Tavern girls, mostly. Those who linger too long after dinners. Those foolish enough to think they could catch the Court Wizard and keep him. It always takes them a while to realize they were the ones caught.” His tone darkened.
“And when he’s done, when that hunger burns itself out, he leaves them in pieces.
I had to call the guards once on a woman who’d lost her wits over him.
She believed the story she’d invented in her head, that he’d love her back. ”
He leaned in, voice low and sharp as a blade drawn in warning.
“That’s what he does to women. He’s distant, detached, but he’s the best lover they’ll ever have, and somehow, that ruins them.
So take my advice, darling. If you must face him, look him dead in the eye and ask what he wants now. He won’t lie.”
Lo’s words should have dissuaded me. I didn’t need a man like that in my life. But there was something wrong with me, some broken cog that refused to turn right.
Because thinking about Kael felt like standing at the railing again, knowing I should run, yet wanting to see how far he could push me before I fell. The thought should have frightened me. Instead, it thrilled me.
“Wouldn’t I make a fool of myself?” I asked, picturing the moment over and over, the question, the silence, the thousand ways he could humiliate me.
Lo sighed, setting down his brush. “That’s a risk you’ll have to take if you want the truth,” he said, a faint smile curving his lips. “Better a heart bruised by honesty than one shattered by illusion, darling. Trust me, I’ve swept up enough pieces to know.”
I nodded. Lo was right. Not knowing was worse than any humiliation that might follow if I asked Kael directly. I didn’t want to end the night with guards escorting me out of the castle.
Now it was my turn to ask a question. He had started this conversation. I needed to know what had prompted him.
“Why did you ask?”
Lo chuckled awkwardly, which was so un-Lo it startled me. He looked caught somewhere between guilt and absurdity. “Because he asked about you.”
“What? When? What did he want to know?” That spark of excitement again, traitorous and alive.
“The day after that wonderful magisters’ dinner you just told me about,” he said, gesturing dramatically with his brush, “he asked if we were close. I told him we were an inseparable couple,” he winked, “and then he wanted me to keep him informed of your whereabouts.”
Why on Terra would Kael want to know where I was?
“So you were his spy!” I exclaimed, though the outrage felt more like performance than truth. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Lo sighed, lowering his brush like a penitent knight setting down his sword.
“I thought it was a trial sort of thing. I know how much this post means to you and didn’t want you overthinking it, which you always do.
Besides, you were usually in the village talking to farmers and goats, hardly a threat to the Crown. ”
I couldn’t even be angry. It wasn’t as though I’d done anything worth hiding. If Kael wanted to know my routines, he could. But why did he want to? And why not simply ask me himself?
Then his words echoed between my thoughts.
Stay away from me, Evie.
Did he only want to make sure I obeyed him?
Well, to the abyss with that. Tonight, all magisters would stand beside the Dean for the opening of the Academy Ball, and I would make certain to stand beside him.
I would ask Kael Forloren what his problem was and solve this riddle once and for all.
Lo finished my makeup, his deft hands tracing lines of kohl above and below my eyes, brushing rouge over my lips with surgical care. When he was satisfied with his art, he leaned back, studying me as if I were his masterpiece.
A sly smile touched his lips. “Darling, if I were into women, I’d be courting you tonight.”
Heat rose to my cheeks. “And I’d court you right back.”
He had drawn out every good thing about my face, warmed my cheeks, brightened my dark eyes, made my lips gleam like raspberries under candlelight.
I dressed, slipping into my beautiful Ciuffo gown. Twice I checked my reflection before leaving my bedchamber, confidence settling like silk upon my skin. My hair I left loose, dark curls spilling to the small of my back.
The Academy Ball was meant to celebrate life through reunion, music, and dance. And tonight, Lo and I would dance the nine hells out of ourselves.
The halls of the Magi Academy of Hauvia were dressed in long veils of pale blue silk, and the great crystal chandelier above refracted a storm of dancing light across the polished floor.
A sea of last-year students in jeweled gowns and velvet finery gathered before the banquet hall doors, waiting for the dark blue ribbon to be cut so they might flood into the ballroom.
We—the magisters, minus the Court Wizard, who was ever punctual only to his own design—stood upon the stage at the far end of the hall beside the teachers, all resplendent in robes of teal and gold.
Dean Anita Durvelle stood at the center in a gown of silvered pearl that shimmered like moonlight on water, long gray hair tied in a knot fashioned like a rose.
Her round collar framed the graceful lines of her throat; her bright green eyes glowed with quiet pride as she prepared to address the crowd.
I glanced over my shoulder, searching for Kael. He would enter through the side door leading from the gardens. Still no sign of him.
Then my gaze met Jorren’s. His red-and-gold tunic blazed in the light, his brown eyes full of bold admiration.
“Looking stunning, Evangelina,” he murmured. His gaze lingered far too long.
“Thanks…” I offered a small, polite smile.
He leaned closer, the sharp sweetness of his perfume invading the air between us. “If they’d told me someone as beautiful as you would join the Court, I’d have fought for a permanent seat beside you.” His lips curved. “Though it’s hard to focus on politics when temptation sits across the table.”
His tone was smooth, nearly charming, but it felt like fingers brushing where they shouldn’t. I held my smile and pretended not to feel the weight of it. Ignoring him seemed easier than granting his words power.