TWELVE
Angharad
Hara had never felt more beautiful in her life.
She stood before three mirrors in the stylish fitting salon of Eleanora Falk’s favorite dressmaker.
For most of the afternoon, she’d been measured and fitted into one gown after another.
She fell in love with the first gown of pale lavender, until Lady Falk shook her head and Hara tried a wine-red gown next.
After that, she lost track of the billowing sleeves, the voluminous skirts, the corsets and dangling fringes and jewel-encrusted bodices.
Every gown she tried was an exquisite work of art, and Hara felt she could not begin to choose.
Unfortunately, Lady Falk had the opposite problem.
“Can’t you find something more elegant? This is all too gaudy,”
said Lady Falk with a wave of her hand, dismissing the spring-green dress Hara wore. She had dismissed every gown as too revealing, too showy, or not showy enough.
“These are all from our latest collection, my lady,”
said the seamstress, slightly harried.
“If you could only tell me what you are looking for.”
“Hara, what do you think?”
asked Eleanora.
“I couldn’t decide, I think they are all splendid,”
said Hara honestly.
“Oh, you are sweet to a fault. Really, I have half a mind to go to Laringbone and see what they have on offer.”
Hara ran her hands down the green dress she wore.
She tried to imagine the most beautiful gown she’d ever seen.
Her childhood memories of the Ilmarinen court were hazy, but she still remembered beauty.
Her mother’s robes had been midnight blue, and Hara often thought to herself as a child that someday she would like to dress that way.
“Perhaps,”
began Hara.
“Do you have something in dark blue?”
The seamstress nodded, and when she came back she held a dark dress in her arms.
“A dark dress? Are you sure, my dear? You are the guest of honor—surely you’d like to stand out in a red or a fuschia, or perhaps—oh,”
Eleanora’s chatter broke off as Hara stepped into the gown.
The heavy blue outer dress fell from her shoulders in the courtly style with voluminous sleeves that swallowed her arms.
The inner dress was sparkling white, a spray of diamonds leaving her thighs bare.
She felt like a siren stepping out of a midnight ocean of velvet.
“Oh, my dear, it is magnificent!”
said Eleanora, and Hara felt something close to joy welling up. She felt as shimmering and untouchable as a star in the night sky.
“No need to show us any others,”
said Eleanora, and she stood beside Hara so that their faces were reflected back three times. Eleanora wrapped an arm about Hara’s shoulders and whispered.
“Just wait until he sees you.”
It appeared Hara’s lie about being barren had not put Eleanora completely off. She would have to find another way to discourage her, but for a moment it felt good to have Eleanora’s arm wrapped around her in such a motherly way.
While Eleanora bartered with the seamstress about shoes and trimmings, Hara changed back into the dress and fur wrap that she’d arrived in.
As she looked up, she saw Sarai leaving the fitting salon next to theirs.
She wore a lovely fawn-colored gown, and she cursed softly as her grip slipped on the bulky parcel tucked under her arm.
For a moment Hara hesitated; she knew there was something unpleasant between Eleanora and Sarai. But then she dismissed the thought. There was no reason for Hara to snub her.
“Sarai!”
called Hara while Eleanora was occupied.
“Oh, hello,”
said Sarai, trying to wave and almost dropping her parcel. Hara went to her side and helped her right it. She caught a glimpse of silver satin before the box’s lid was slid back into place.
Sarai straightened the small hat she wore and puffed.
“Thank you. The gowns this season are so bulky. One requires a cart to haul all the fabric.”
“Is this for the Falk ball?”
asked Hara.
“Of course. It’s the event of the season, and I will take any excuse to come here. This shop is home to my favorite designer,”
said Sarai.
Hara smiled.
“I’m glad to see you taking some time away from working.”
“I’m celebrating, actually. A miner discovered a deposit of some rare substance, and he gave me a sample. He said it’s used by the fae, but there’s no market for it, so he sold it to me cheaply.”
“Does Melietta know what it is?”
“She said it’s a kind of scrying material, but she doesn't know how to use it. Wait!”
said Sarai, her eyes lighting up.
“Didn’t you say you’re a Seer? Could you come to my laboratory and take a look at it?”
“Of course,”
said Hara, curiosity getting the better of her. She tried to wrack her mind for memories of her mother using some sort of material for Seeing, but she could think of nothing.
“I would be happy to help.”
“Thank you so much,”
said Sarai, beaming. Then her eyes flicked over Hara’s shoulder and her smile became fixed.
“Good afternoon, Eleanora.”
“Sarai, how marvelous you look today,”
said Eleanora, coming to stand beside Hara.
“I see you are preparing for my little party?”
Sarai patted her large box.
“I hope it does not clash with the decor. I have a habit of choosing the wrong colors.”
“No matter what you wear, you are always the center of attention,”
said Eleanora in a saccharine voice. It did not sound like a compliment.
“If you’ll excuse us. Hara dear, they will deliver your things to the palace. In the meantime, we need to find you some jewelry.”
Hara didn’t feel it was the right moment to point out that witches could not wear most jewelry, even if she were the exception. Eleanora obviously wanted to make a grand exit. She took Hara by the arm and all but steered her out the door. Hara quickly managed to wave at Sarai as they left the elegant coziness of the dressmaker shop and made their way down the paved avenue.
Sunshine glinted off of the puddles on the pavement, a brief respite from the spring rains. The sounds of the city echoed between the towering, shining spires.
Ahead, a man on the street was selling what looked like floating stuffed sea serpents. A child gave a little shriek of excitement as he clung to one, floating gently above his parents’ heads. His mother fretted and tugged at his ankle, while the balloon seller shouted.
“Longest-lasting Levitating Leviathans!”
They passed an apothecary that advertised an ointment that instantly healed shallow cuts and burns, and something calle.
“Plague Purger.”
Hara made a note to herself to come back and browse the healing products that were offered.
An autocar glided past them and stopped in a paved courtyard ahead. There were several other mobiles lined up there, and a worker poured buckets of what looked like water into spouts in their sides. It appeared to be a refueling station of some kind. Much more convenient than shoveling grain and mucking stables for horses, Hara thought.
They entered a jeweler’s shop and Hara’s eyes were dazzled with the exquisite gems on display. Eleanora asked the shopkeeper to pull a few pieces to try, and while he gathered them, she asked Hara.
“You did not happen to see the color of the gown Sarai chose, did you?”
Hara decided to feign ignorance. “No, why?”
“Well, it is not a coincidence that she clashes at events,”
said Eleanora with a smug little grin.
“I make sure that she gets no help from me when it comes to finding a suitor.”
Hara was surprised and a little repulsed at the woman’s pettiness.
“Forgive me for prying, but what happened between you and Sarai?”
“Nothing at all. And that is the problem,”
said Eleanora airily.
“That girl has every advantage: rich, beautiful, brilliant, and ever-so-charitable. She thinks she is better than everyone, when in reality, she is the biggest bore. Once you spend some time with her, you will see it.”
Hara kept her opinion to herself that Eleanora’s explanation reeked of bias. She had been nothing but kind to her today, covering all of Hara’s expenses and taking time from her schedule.
“There, these diamonds will match your gown perfectly,”
said Eleanora with a warm smile.
“Now, do you favor silver or gold?”
The next evening, Hara entered the canteen. She and Sarai planned to meet there, but the only person occupying the long table was Melietta. Her wooden spoon hovered over her half eaten bowl of soup as she perused the sheaf of papers at her elbow.
“Oh, hello,”
said Hara.
“I’m sorry to interrupt. Sarai was supposed to meet me here.”
Melietta gave Hara a blank glance as her only form of acknowledgement and turned once more to her papers. Her hands were as gnarled and burned as ever, and Hara felt pity well up in her chest. Even though Melietta had an affinity to metals, it seemed she was not immune to their touch as Hara was.
She took a seat at the table a long enough distance away that Melietta could continue her meal in peace. The quiet rustle of papers and the soft scrape of wooden cutlery were the only sounds, and Hara’s sense of awkwardness grew by the minute.
Other than the first day they’d met, Hara hadn’t spoken much to Melietta, though she was burning with curiosity. Her earth magic was the closest thing to Hara’s own power that she had ever encountered. Hara’s childhood tutor Alcmene had earth magic as well, but she was an earth mover with no affinity to metals whatsoever.
Simply for something to do, Hara rose to get a cup of tea.
“Hot water,”
she murmured, amazed when the spout in the wall filled her cup with steaming water. If she lived here for the rest of her life, she did not think she’d ever become accustomed to the amenities of the palace.
She fixed her tea, and as she carried it back to her place, she passed closely behind Melietta. The markings on her papers were more visible, and Hara nearly stopped in her tracks. The geometric diagrams and the runes stirred a memory, a memory of long days in her tutor’s rooms calculating star charts and astral phenomena. But these looked like—
“Are you working on alchemy theory?”
Hara asked before she could stop herself.
Melietta did not even look up from her pages. “Yes.”
Quickly, Hara remembered herself.
“I’m sorry, it’s only, I did not know such magic could be studied this way.”
“It is physical, so it can be studied,”
said Melietta simply, turning a page. Hara could not help staring at the spidery symbols and the expansive table filled with what looked like test results. If she had continued living in the palace as a child, no doubt her lessons would eventually include alchemy studies. Perhaps Melietta could explain . . .
No.
This was dangerously stupid. She should show no hint of interest in alchemy, or any knowledge of it for that matter. What was the natural way to act in this situation? Any other witch would probably be curious, and to pretend that she wasn’t might seem unusual. As Hara deliberated, she slowly went back to her seat. Then she decided that it would be least suspicious if she made small talk.
“I always loved mathematics. My education is limited, but I remember that those were my favorite lessons—”
“If you don’t mind, I’d like some quiet,”
Melietta’s gravelly voice cut her off.
Hara’s words stopped in her throat, taken aback by the retort. What on earth had she done to deserve it? She and Melietta had barely spoken. Gideon warned her that she would face venom from the people of the court, but so far, the most barbed encounter had been with a fellow witch.
“I’m very sorry,”
she said, feeling hot around the neck. Then the realization slammed into her: Hara was not herself. She was a Recruiter. Of course the first witch she met outside of the Recruiter office would be hostile toward her. Shame filled her cheeks, and Hara could feel her heartbeat loudly in her ears as she sipped her tea.
Even though it was all an act, in this moment, her role felt all too real. She would despise herself if she was in Melietta’s place.
The door opened with a bang, and Hara almost melted with relief to see Sarai stride into the room.
“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting, funding meeting ran long—oh, Melietta! Don’t work too hard; mealtimes are for meals, remember our pact?”
she said, blithely unaware of the tension she had just walked in on.
“Yes, yes, I remember,”
said Melietta in her low rumble, closing her folio of papers.
“Come along, Hara, this way,”
said Sarai, already opening the door she had just come from. Hara quickly got up and followed, placing her teacup in the soiled dish bin.
Sarai chattered away about her idiotic head of department, but finally, she paused when she noticed Hara’s responses were soft and short.
“Is everything all right?”
“Oh. Yes. Well actually, no,”
she said, and she recounted her brief conversation with Melietta.
“I think I know why she dislikes me, though,”
she finished, sweeping her hand down her black Recruiter garb.
Sarai nodded, a serious look crossing her face.
“I see. I never thought of it from a witch’s point of view, to be honest. But I can see why sorcerers would not trust Recruiters, given their history.”
“Does everyone at court know how the Recruiters came to be?”
asked Hara.
“Yes, and they support it. Everyone looks at Recruiters as honorable, offering witches a place in court and in the city,”
said Sarai with a sidelong glance at Hara.
Hara wanted to tell her of the holding cells just a floor below them, containing sorcerers in naked, burning squalor. The truth threatened to burst from her lips before she remembered that Hara the Recruiter would never divulge such a thing. Instead, she decided the safest response was silence.
Sarai led Hara through the labyrinthine passages to her workroom. Some of the doors they passed were labeled with intriguing names such as Dimensional Studies, Anti-Gravity Structures, and Perpetual Heat and Motion. The laboratories were just as stark and windowless as the Recruiter offices, but they were crammed with all manner of instruments: glass vials, thrumming machines, whirring centrifuges, and sealed glass compartments of all sizes.
They finally reached a small room labeled Earth Studies, and Sarai led her inside. The room was like an overstuffed closet with a few work benches crammed inside. Papers and rock hammers were piled and scattered everywhere, and a large flask full of liquid stood by an apparatus that slowly dripped whatever it was distilling into a bottle.
Sarai led Hara into a corner of the room, where a set of miniscule wooden drawers took up most of the wall. She opened one of the drawers and reached in. When she opened her hand to show Hara the mysterious substance, Hara gasped.
“What can you see? Melietta said it looked like a shard of mirror,”
said Sarai eagerly.
“It just looks like a dark gray rock to me.”
“I can see inside of it . . . ”
said Hara. She took the piece, no larger than her palm, and stared closely at it. Hara blinked and tried to see what Sarai described, but any which way she turned the stone it seemed like a view into an empty space with swirling mist rather than a solid object. It felt strangely heavy, as though it were made of lead. She moved it this way and that, watching the mist shift and become denser or lighter as she held it in her palm.
“Try pressing your fingers into it,”
said Sarai.
Curiosity overtook her, and Hara brushed her fingertips over the surface. They sank into the stone as though it were air, and Hara gasped.
“Isn’t it fascinating? Melietta could feel inside, too,”
said Sarai.
The piece was small, and so she could only reach as far as her knuckles, but then liquid met her fingertips. She quickly withdrew her hand and put the stone down.
“It’s called sorbite. It is a rare type of scrying material that also absorbs magic.”
The liquid she felt within the stone must have been a physical manifestation of the spirit world, thought Hara.
“What do you mean that it absorbs magic?”
“When Melietta touched it, it became a magnet and turned other materials around it into magnets, even non-metals,”
said Sarai.
“I suppose when you touch it, it could give others the ability to See and could act as a healing or pain-relieving substance. But the power only stays as long as you make contact with it.”
Sarai carefully placed what looked like the piece of mist back into its drawer.
“I want to perform some experiments with it since my amplifier has only been tested on metals.”
“How does your amplifier work?”
asked Hara, genuinely curious. She’d heard about the ability to multiply objects, but she was impressed that Sarai had found a way to do it by non-magical means. A proud and pleased expression came over Sarai’s face as she took a round glass flask full of clear liquid from a shelf.
“Here it is,”
she said, placing it before Hara.
“It took many rounds of distillation, starting with Windsong water. Melietta helped shape its power, so now it can multiply any magnetic metal.”
Sarai pulled out a box full of gray lumps the size of cherries.
“These all started as dust and shavings.”
“Very impressive,”
said Hara, seeing the pride Sarai felt for these lumps of iron and nickel. It seemed odd that Sarai would use water from the Windsong fountain to do her experiments. As far as Hara knew, the water came from the mighty river Morais that flowed through Perule, but was otherwise unremarkable.
“You use the fountain water?”
“Yes, we use the fountain water here in the palace because it’s convenient, but the whole city uses the river. It’s distilled and treated to be used for different purposes.”
Hara remembered the man in the courtyard filling the autocars. She wondered if the Ilmarinen had known about the river’s extraordinary properties.
“Would you mind very much if I pulled you away from your Recruiter duties to help me run some tests every now and then?”
asked Sarai sheepishly.
“Of course, I would be happy to,”
said Hara.
“Oh, thank you. I will be sure to explain to Turnswallow if he complains so you will not have to take his reprimands.”
“Brave of you,”
said Hara, and Sarai gave her a sidelong smile.
“Not as brave as you rubbing shoulders with Eleanora Falk. I’ve never seen her consort with a witch before.”
“I saved her son from a near-death experience, so she has deigned to tolerate me. And unfortunately, I think she is trying to play matchmaker.”
Sarai covered her mouth to hide her shocked smile.
“Oh no, Hara.”
“Oh, yes,”
said Hara, and something about Sarai’s reaction made her remember Lady Eleanora’s scathing remarks. She had a feeling Sarai’s side of the story would be slightly more objective.
“What happened to make her despise you so?”
“She tried to do the same thing with me,”
said Sarai.
“Gideon and I courted for a while. It was more of a flirtation, really, but Eleanora noticed and sank her teeth in. I ticked all of her boxes for a perfect little wife for her precious son.”
It was all falling into place now. Hara tried to ignore the small lick of jealousy.
“And you rejected him?”
“No! He never even came close to asking for my hand. I rejected Eleanora because she made a proposal of marriage on his behalf.”
Hara gasped.
“She didn’t!”
“She did. I told her flat out that I was not willing to be tied to the Falk name. They are the greediest, most conniving family I have ever known.”
The image of Gideon pressing a knife to the old shopkeeper’s neck as he robbed him bloomed in Hara’s mind. She could not disagree with Sarai.
“So, that is why she hates me. I’m still invited to all the functions, as my rank and family entitles me. Eleanora would never dare tell anyone why we had a falling out—it would be too embarrassing for her.”
“And your feelings for Gideon?”
asked Hara, trying not to sound too interested.
“Withered up as soon as I got a taste of Eleanora’s wrath,”
she said.
“He understood, and we’ve been polite acquaintances ever since.”
“That doesn’t sound like him. I would have expected him to coax you and stop at nothing until he gained your favor back.”
“Gideon?”
Sarai laughed incredulously.
“He’s no more loyal than a jackrabbit. At least, not to me.”
Hara could almost believe it, but it did not match the man she knew. It was hard to imagine that Gideon had taken Sarai’s loss of interest with grace and let her go. She was so beautiful and intelligent that Hara would think him a fool if he did.
As Hara contemplated this, her eyes fell on some pieces of gold jewelry scattered on the worktop. The gems had been pried out so that only the empty prongs and links remained. Sarai caught her looking and said.
“I sacrificed my personal collection to try and amplify it, but it’s not nearly enough. So far, the solution corrodes gold instead of amplifies it, and I’m running out of jewelry to test.”
“It’s very noble of you to seek out another way to get precious metals instead of mining,”
said Hara.
Sarai’s expression darkened.
“Have you ever been to one? To a mine?”
Hara shook her head. She was more than a little curious about where all of this splendor and wealth came from.
“Melietta can tell you what it is like. She worked in the mines seeking metal seams.”
Hara wondered if she could ever earn enough of Melietta’s trust to hear her story. Perhaps she never would, so long as she worked in the palace as a Recruiter anyway.
“I am going tomorrow to try and get more sorbite. Would you mind accompanying me to test the samples?”
asked Sarai.
“Sometimes my supplier makes mistakes and gives me plain rock.”
They agreed to meet at dawn, and as Sarai began to show Hara back through the narrow hallways, they spotted Geremy Flints, the recordkeeper. He hurried down a hallway, looking as though he did not wish to be stopped. Hara thought it curious that an archivist should need to visit the laboratories, but he was an odd man.
Seeing him here gave her an uneasy feeling, and she wondered if she was being paranoid. She remembered how starved he’d been for conversation; perhaps he visited the R and D group for human interaction. He seemed to be the type of man who inserted himself in places he may not be needed or wanted, and perhaps being an archivist was so dull that he snooped on the researchers’ work regularly. His presence could have nothing to do with her.
In any case, she was perfectly within her liberty to visit a colleague, and they’d not discussed anything untoward. Hara had been very careful not to say anything that Turnswallow or the other Recruiters did not already know. If he was spying, he would have nothing to report.
Gideon
Gideon paced agitatedly before the fire in Hara’s room. He was bursting with the need to speak to her and had spent the day ruminating over the conversation with his father. Even the blasted cat wasn’t there; it was probably skulking around the kitchens. The last light of dusk filled her room before her chamber door swung open and she entered.
“Thank the gods,”
he said, crossing the room in three long strides.
“Where have you been all day?”
“I was in the holding chambers for hours verifying criminals’ stories,”
said Hara, groaning as she removed her boots and unclasped her reticule and knife harness.
“I’ve never been so happy to be in the present.”
She collapsed into the large settee before the fire, and Gideon went to sit next to her. She looked positively exhausted; his news could wait a few moments more.
“Do you need a drink? Some food?”
he said, reaching for the wine decanter.
“No, I ate in the canteen,”
she said. She must have sensed his agitated state because she asked.
“Have you been waiting here all afternoon?”
“Hara, my father all but confirmed there is a magical prison. It is on Mount Herebore, to the northeast. It’s not far from Perule, perhaps a day’s ride on horseback.”
Hara sat up, attentive, and Gideon told her all his father had said. He’d already poured over maps of the mountain, but unsurprisingly his search proved fruitless. There would hardly be a road and a nicely marked landmark pointing out a secret magical prison.
Hara listened closely, a million thoughts behind her eyes.
“I need to see Corvus’ past,”
she said slowly when he was finished.
“We need to learn where this place is through his memories. He wouldn’t have mental shields the way Turnswallow does—he’s not a sorcerer. I could try to see his memories through your father, since they have such a long and close relationship. But I do not think your father would clasp hands with me for several minutes like the girl at the inn.”
“No, I don’t see how we could manage that,”
said Gideon, trying to imagine his father agreeing to a divining session.
“But I would only need to be near Corvus for a few moments. I need to get close to him, to see and smell and hear him, and if possible, to touch him. How can I do that?”
“At the ball,”
said Gideon.
“My mother invited him.”
“How do we know he will be there?”
she asked.
“Well, he is my godfather,”
said Gideon, and he could see Hara’s throat move up and down as she swallowed, processing this new information.
“He usually attends our family functions. It would be perfectly natural to introduce you there.”
Hara nodded, looking resigned rather than eager. Gideon reached out to brush her cheek.
“I understand why you are frightened, but you needn’t be. He’s only a man, and he will be in good spirits, surrounded by his closest friends and advisors.”
Determination replaced the worry in her eyes, and Gideon was glad to see it. Though his heart was heavy with the things he hadn’t told her yet.
“Hara, do you remember much of the night when you and your mother escaped?”
“A little. It happened late at night, when all was dark. She woke me and told me to wear several layers of my warmest clothes. Then we climbed into the tapestry, through paths I had never taken before, and when we emerged, we were at the top of the cliff looking down at the city. I was confused, but I did as my mother asked.”
“Did you see any armies, or great rolling weapons?”
Hara shook her head.
“No. But when the morning broke, I started to hear things. Distant booms. We hadn’t gone very far. That was when my mother told me what was happening.”
“How could she have known?”
he murmured.
“According to my father, Desideria’s visions were repeatedly erased from her memory.”
Had one of them somehow slipped through in time to save them?
Hara gave a little gasp of shock. “What?”
Gideon then explained the role of the Ilmarinen traitor and how he had been the secret to Corvus’ victory all along.
Hara was silent for several long moments after he spoke. She’d drawn her knees up to her chest and was staring into the fire, deep in thought. When she finally spoke, Gideon was surprised by what came out of her mouth.
“Has the river Morais always had water with magical properties?”
Gideon took a moment to process the bizarre question.
“I don’t know. As far as I know, it has always been used to fuel the city.”
“Hmm. I have no memory of it being special in any way. At least, nothing that my tutors ever mentioned.”
“Maybe it did not seem remarkable because you lived among magic-folk, and it was only after Corvus took over that we found a way to use the water. I don’t think the Ilmarinen were too pressed to invent autocars and funiculars when they had magical gusts of wind to fly on.”
“Maybe you are right. But something is strange about all this, and I feel it is connected somehow. The prison, the river. I just learned today about a substance that can absorb magic, and I think I am realizing that there is much about magic I do not know.”
“What substance?”
asked Gideon.
“Sorbite. I held a piece in Sarai’s laboratory.”
So, Hara and Sarai were becoming friendly. Of course they would, Gideon thought ruefully. Hara’s pensive expression lightened and a teasing glint came into her eyes. She quirked a smile at him.
“She told me a little about your history.”
Gideon huffed.
“If you can call it that. More like the biggest embarrassment I have ever suffered. Can you imagine your mother proposing marriage to a woman you had just started to like? It was dead before it even properly began.”
“Is that why you didn’t try to pursue her? You were embarrassed?”
“Isn’t that enough reason?”
asked Gideon.
“You should know by now that my pride is very precious to me. Anything that wounds my ego is something to avoid, even by association. I can barely look at Sarai without withering up on the spot.”
“But if that hadn’t happened, would you still pursue her?”
Gideon had no idea why she was pressing on about this. It happened many years ago, and Gideon had long moved past the what-ifs. He thought about it honestly though, to humor Hara.
“She’s intelligent and ambitious. I admire that about her. But I think in the end she was a bit too good. She’s always had a stick of justice rammed up her rear. She wouldn’t have pushed me against a door and kissed me after a fight, for instance.”
Hara gave him a shrewd smile.
“You forgot to mention the minor detail that she is stunningly beautiful and wealthy.”
“So am I,”
he said, waving his hand dismissively.
“And beauty can change once you get to know a person. She was often scolding me, but not in a fun way.”
“Her courage is what I like most about her,”
said Hara.
“I’m going to accompany her to a mine tomorrow to collect samples.”
Gideon’s stomach plummeted as he remembered his father’s parting words.
“I don’t know if you should be seen having anything to do with metalworking, Hara.”
She looked wary at his tone, and Gideon took a deep breath.
“My mother noticed you using cutlery at our luncheon. And she told my father.”
Hara sighed and closed her eyes, and he knew she was feeling the same regret he did at being so careless. “And?”
“And so, he has told me to find out if you are an alchemist by any means I can, but he hinted that I should seduce you.”
Hara surprised him by breaking into a laugh.
“I’m genuinely shocked. Although now that I think of it, your mother has not been letting up in her quest to nudge us together. Perhaps she thinks she is helping you in your seduction.”
Gideon made a face.
“Well, it is having the opposite effect. Knowing my parents are scheming for me to woo you and bed you so that you’ll give up your secrets is quite dampening my mood.”
“I would like to see you try to seduce me. How would you go about it?”
asked Hara, an absurdly adorable smile lighting up her face. Apparently Gideon did like smiley women with wide, toothy grins.
“If you were a normal woman, I’d do all the usual things, like a boat ride on the Morais at night when the arctic lights lit up the sky,”
he said.
“Maybe I’d hide a well-placed love note for you to discover in my pocket—by accident, of course.”
“Of course,”
she said with a nod.
He shrugged.
“But you are a degenerate, like me. So I’d have to think up something bad. Really naughty.”
Hara furrowed her brows and frowned at him, and he hastily amended his statement.
“Just a little degenerate. You were technically an accomplice in robbery.”
Hara folded her arms.
“How easily you twist the truth. Sarai was right when she called your family conniving.”
“Did she really?”
laughed Gideon.
“She must be disgusted with us. Maybe I don’t want you to become friends with my past paramours. Anyway, you were asking how I would seduce you.”
“I can tell you what would work,”
said Hara, and she moved closer on the settee.
“If you entered into a fighting match.”
Gideon was completely bewildered. Hara kept surprising him this evening; perhaps he did not know her as well as he thought. Hara the Hedgewitch, sport enthusiast?
“You don’t strike me as someone who enjoys boxing,” he said.
“I like watching you fight,”
she said, and blood rushed below his waist as she lightly bit her lip. She had moved even closer, the soft light of the fire flickering over her long hair, draped over her shoulder.
“In a match, your shirt would be off.”
“You are a degenerate. What wicked thoughts you have,”
said Gideon, trying desperately to keep his voice from cracking up an octave. Why did she make him feel like he was an inexperienced lad?
Hot blood was rapidly gathering in his groin, making it very difficult to concentrate on anything other than her catlike eyes flicking to his mouth.
He was about to tease her, the words on his lips, when Gideon felt her mouth stoppering any further attempts at conversation.
She gave him soft, sipping kisses, gently tugging his lips in invitation. The erection straining against his leg was now at full attention, begging for friction. These sweet, teasing kisses were making him burn. He had to exercise every fiber of self control to suppress his eagerness, trying not to reveal the colossal craving that he’d been suppressing for weeks. For if she knew how deeply he longed for her, how often his thoughts were consumed by her, she would surely shy away.
She likes me.
The thought repeated in his head as her soft lips moved over his, and he felt foolish for the relief those simple words brought. They filled up every doubt and desire that had plagued him. Her kisses were warm reassurance, and he wanted this moment to last, to stretch into infinity. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and lose himself in her heat, to snare his fingers through her hair and drown in her scent. He’d lay her down on this damnably small settee and—
If she wanted to give him slow sweetness, that was what he would take. He cradled the side of her face, his fingers moving into the nape of her neck to fasten into her hair. Gently, carefully.
Hara tipped her head back and opened her mouth to him, letting out a soft whimper. The sound made him lightheaded, and he answered with a groan. He could not remember the last time he had kissed someone like this, with such delicate attention. There was something to be said for sweet, tender intimacies.
Then Hara closed the short distance between them and climbed into his lap, her thighs resting on his.
Gideon swallowed loudly. Not so sweet after all.
His hands moved of their own accord, coming to fasten around her waist as she cradled his jaw, making him crane his neck to kiss her. He slid his hands down her waist where they flared over her spread hips, and he couldn’t stop the sound that escaped him.
The solid weight of her directly over his cock was wonderfully torturous, but then she began to move her hips. Back and forth she slid, and he gripped her harder, urging her. She made needy little sounds against his neck as she clung to him, which he could feel as well as hear.
Gods she was exquisite. He had imagined what she would be like, predicting that she would need plenty of coaxing to warm up, but the way she was using him to get off sent an unexpected thrill through his blood.
Then he felt her hand sliding over the front of his trousers.
A very important piece of new information thunked into his brain: Hara was not shy.
Thought fled as she felt along the hard length of him, and Gideon found it difficult to breathe when she slipped her hand beneath his waistband. It was warm and softer than his own hand, but the pleasure that she began to wring from him made him tip his head back.
He managed to bring a hand up to cup her face, his thumb resting across her plush lips. She opened her mouth and took it inside, and Gideon groaned as she sucked. The warm wetness of her mouth combined with the glorious movement of her hand created a paralyzing pleasure. The sight of her lips wrapped around his thumb was so sensual that Gideon stared through half-lidded eyes, transfixed.
He did not know how they’d gone from talking about boxing matches to having her hand on his cock, but he would not question this dizzying turn of events.
Too soon, she broke away from him and moved off of his lap, but before Gideon could pull her back she was traveling down his chest and kneeling on the carpet between his legs. His heart beat hard and fast as she unbuttoned his trousers and began to pull them down. He shifted his hips to help her, and when he was finally free, he got some carnal satisfaction at her expression.
Her eyes roamed over him as she took him in hand, and before the desire could formulate in his mind, she lowered her head and took him into her mouth. He couldn’t hold back the startled cry that escaped him, and he quickly put the back of his fist over his mouth.
Hara knew exactly what she was doing, and she was glorious. He could barely keep his eyes open, but he forced himself to watch her as she used her hand and her mouth to stroke his length. Her mouth was warm and sucking, and with each draw back Gideon could feel his flesh burning with pleasure. She was not careful or timid; she took him deeply, as though she were hungry for him. Soon, he began to feel the back of her throat rubbing against his tip, and he brought his hands to her hair to hold her steady.
Her knees were splayed wide on the carpeted floor, displaying the roundness of her thighs and arse in those black leather breeches. Before he could help it, he imagined crouching behind her on the floor and peeling them down, taking her from behind while her knees were spread. He could not remember being this hard in his life, and as he felt his orgasm rushing up to be released, Hara let out a little moan.
Was she enjoying this? The thought of her getting wet from taking him into her mouth was enough to shatter him.
He quickly let loose her hair and groaned.
“Fuck, Hara, I’m—”
but instead of pulling away, she lowered her mouth so that her lips caressed his base. He could feel her throat squeezing around his head, drinking from him, and he almost lost consciousness from the feeling.
When she surfaced with a triumphant smile, her lips red and swollen, he clasped his hands about her arms and lifted her up to sit again atop his thighs. He pressed his mouth to hers, fighting for breath.
He had always been eager to open a woman’s thighs and lick until she cried out, and sometimes even longer. Tasting and exploring a woman was a delicacy above all others, and it made him grow hard as nothing else did. The ladies at court were usually hesitant, and only through much coaxing and begging could he get what he wanted. But he hadn’t yet succeeded in convincing a woman to return the favor. It seemed taking a man into their mouths was too base an act. He distinctly remembered one lady calling it .
“whore’s trick.”
Something warm and taut tugged at his heart. Hara obviously felt no such shame when it came to pleasure. She had done that for him.
“No one has ever done that for me,”
he murmured as he held her close, speaking into her shoulder.
“Really? Oh, Gideon,”
she said, resting her head in the space between his neck and his shoulder.
“You truly have lived a life devoid of pleasure.”
He breathed her in, more sated than he could ever remember feeling.
Lately, he found himself longing for those days back in Hara’s cottage when it was just the two of them, before he had realized how precious it was. These clandestine meetings were all he could think about some days, even if he had no news to share. He just needed to see her warm smile, to get lost in the unexpected twists of her hair. He needed to hear her voice—scolding, excited, or worried, and to make everything better for her.
If she were a statue in a fountain, he was the water that trickled down her face, snugly fitting himself to her every edge and hollow. His desire to please her had annoyed him and tested him at first, but now he found that he did not mind it so much. Her power had somehow reached him, cutting through every barbed defense and conditioned response.
Now he was snared, fixed, and astounded to find that he liked it.
There were countless ways to be a fool, and Gideon was practiced in many, but being a fool in love was new. And he was only a little distressed to find that he liked that, too.