Chapter 9 Definitive Proof
Definitive Proof
Raewyn
My training began the next day.
I still wasn’t entirely steady on my feet, so we held off on any kind of physical sparring and focused on developing my glamour.
Pharis seemed to be in a better mood today.
“Let us see what that stubborn little head of yours is capable of, shall we?” he asked with a grin.
“As you pointed out… I don’t really have a choice,” I said.
It was a good thing I was friendly with most of the household staff already because they became my test subjects.
Pharis brought them in one by one and seated them in a room with me, placing them various distances from me and asking me to try and detect their greatest fears.
For a few of them, it was that the Prince would discover they’d disobeyed his orders not to speak to me and that they’d lose their job.
Naturally, I didn’t share that one with him, moving on to the second most troubling fear in their minds to report back to him.
Then they’d confirm for him that I’d been correct—or they’d lie out of embarrassment and say I was wrong.
After two days of this, we’d exhausted the supply of staff members, and I realized something. My fear-detecting skill really didn’t need more work. I’d been using it all my life, unaware of what it was.
“Unless you’d like to volunteer yourself, I guess it’s time to move on to mind-reading lessons,” I joked with Pharis late one afternoon.
We’d walked out to the pavilion where a manservant was lighting a fire in its central fire pit.
It was good to be outside after spending all day indoors, and though it was a bit cool with the sun going down, this was my favorite place to watch the sunset.
The domed pavilion was perched on the point of Pharis’ estate that reached farthest into the ocean. It was open on all sides, giving one the best possible view of the coastline and crashing waves from all angles.
Sitting out here in the evenings and watching the sun set made me feel like I’d crossed some sort of invisible barrier and stepped into another world for a few minutes.
“There’d be no point in using your gift on me,” Pharis said sharply. “So don’t.”
Then softening his tone a bit, he went on.
“And it’s not mind-reading. Our mental conversations are just that, an exchange. You only hear the messages another person willingly sends… after you learn how to use it properly, that is.”
He wore a sneaky grin for some reason.
“Stellon told me a little about your non-verbal communication,” I said. “That it’s impossible to lie to each other that way for instance.”
Actually, being able to ask Pharis questions mind-to-mind might be a wonderful thing. Maybe I’d actually get a straight answer for a change.
And then what he’d just said hit me—after you learn how to use it properly.
“Wait, are you saying I’ve been using it? Sending you thoughts… accidentally?” I asked, a bit alarmed.
“Just a few here and there,” Pharis said, but the grin grew, bending one corner of his mouth.
“And you’re rubbish at picking up non-verbal messages. That’s where you really need some work.”
“You’ve tried it with me?” I asked, surprised. “Maybe I did hear you. Maybe I just didn’t like what you were saying and decided to ignore it.”
He chuckled. “If you’d heard me, there would be no ‘maybe’ about it. You’d know. Because it would have sounded like my voice in your mind, the same as you’re hearing me speak now, only I wouldn’t have to go to the trouble of moving my lips.”
I tried to think back on the time we’d spent together. Had I ever heard Pharis’ voice in my mind?
If I had, I’d probably written it off as losing my mind, getting carried away with my overactive imagination.
A memory surfaced abruptly. The night Pharis had used the secret passageway to sneak into Stellon’s room at Seaspire.
Though his lips hadn’t moved, I’d had the strangest impression of hearing his voice in my head.
It’s you, isn’t it? the voice had said, terrifying me.
Because Pharis had somehow recognized me as being the same person as Lady Wyn, even when Stellon had not.
And then the voice had warned me to tell Stellon of my secret double-identity or he would. I’d written it off as my own guilty conscience speaking, but maybe I had actually heard Pharis’ thoughts toward me even then.
“When exactly did you try it before?” I asked.
For a long moment, he just looked at me. “A few times. Once in the glen by the waterfall when we were surrounded by my father’s troops.”
“Really? And what did you say?”
All I remembered was that he’d tattled about my complicity in the assassination attempt and suggested a public execution, all to prove he wasn’t under a love spell—and to make himself look good before his father.
“It doesn’t matter now,” he said. “You didn’t hear me.”
“And you really think I’ll be able to hear you now? You think I can do this? I’m only half-Elven.”
“True, but you do have a glamour,” Pharis said. “ And as I mentioned, you’ve been projecting some thoughts here and there. So it stands to reason that you’d be able to receive them as well. Sometimes I wish…”
His sentence trailed off into nothingness. Naturally I was dying to know what he was reluctant to say.
It was so rare that Pharis ever expressed regret over anything.
“You wish what?” I prompted.
He slid his eyes over to me, appearing unwilling to answer, but eventually he did.
“I wish I’d told you about your Elven heritage instead of letting you hear it from Stellon. We could have been working on your mind-to-mind communication skills all along.”
“Why didn’t you?” I asked.
“Your father made me promise not to.”
“What? When?”
“When he was dying, before the healer in Havendor did her work,” Pharis said. “He didn’t just ask me to take you out of there and keep you safe while leaving him and your sisters behind. He also made me vow never to tell you that your mother was Elven.”
I shook my head, confused.
“But why would he do that? Why would he want you to withhold important information like that from me?”
“He believed keeping the secret was necessary for your protection, that the knowledge would make you even more of a target than you already were.”
“So you agreed to keep me in the dark,” I said.
“It was a deathbed promise.” Pharis said it as if that was a full explanation.
“And in a way I agreed with him that it might be safer for you,” he continued. “Neither of us knew the deathbed vow was pointless, that my foolish brother had already told our father about your parentage.”
A swell of defensiveness filled me. “Stellon believed he was doing the right thing.”
“He always does,” Pharis drawled, sounding bored. “It’s time to get to work. If you’re going to make any further lovesick declarations about ‘Saint Stellon,’ you’ll have to do it mind-to-mind.”
Sticking my hands out to warm them over the fire, I asked, “Okay, so how do we start? Should I just… try to say something to you? Or do you want me to listen to you?”
He smirked. “That would be a nice change. No, actually that’s a good idea since receiving is your weakest area. I’ll send you a message, and you tell me what you heard.”
Pharis turned and stared deeply into my eyes.
Though I strained my mind, I could hear nothing but the crackling of burning wood and a little pop when flames unearthed a pocket of sap.
It was uncomfortable holding eye contact with Pharis like this. I usually tried to avoid getting lost in those pretty blue-green eyes.
Oh no, could he hear that? I did not like this kind of “training.”
He laughed out loud.
“Like it or not, you have to do it, Wildcat. That’s the deal if you ever want to go out into the world again and join your family.”
My mouth dropped open. “You heard me?”
Pharis cracked a devious grin. “Pretty? Really? I’ve always preferred to think of my eyes as ‘sparkling pools of Nymphian water.’”
I reached up to slap his laughing face, but he jerked back out of my reach, leaving my hand to swing harmlessly through the air.
“You project your intent before you strike, you know,” he informed me. “You’ll never land a slap until you learn to control that.”
“Well consider me a motivated student then,” I growled.
“Good. Whatever it takes. Now try again. I sent you a message, and apparently you didn’t hear it.”
“Maybe you’re not very good at it,” I snapped.
Or maybe you remember just how good I am, and you’re afraid to admit it. You do remember our kisses by the waterfall, don’t you, love? Remember how good I made you feel?
I’d heard that alright.
Unmistakably in his low, seductive voice, though his lips hadn’t moved at all.
And Pharis being Pharis, of course his message had been intentionally provoking.
Hearing my offended gasp and taking in my glare, he smiled like a proud papa.
“You heard me that time. Very good. Now send me a response,” he challenged.
Putting my full concentration into it, I formulated a scathing reply and imagined myself pushing it out toward him.
All those Court ladies who gushed about your prowess as a lover must have just been after you for your title. You’re not that good at—
My mental message cut off for some reason. I literally couldn’t keep going.
I straightened my shoulders, frowning in frustration and trying to force the insult toward him.
Pharis’ eyes narrowed in amusement, and his lips rolled inward as if he was trying to suppress a laugh.
We can’t lie this way, remember? So I can only conclude that the opposite of what you were trying to say is the truth. That in fact you did find my kisses—and my touch—quite agreeable, if not unforgettable.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said out loud. “I barely remember kissing you.”
He smirked, clearly unconvinced. “You forgot to say that mind-to-mind.”
Suddenly my vision was flooded with images of the two of us on our picnic in Havendor, or rather the moment when our picnic was forgotten in favor of passionate kissing… and other things.
And it wasn’t just sights, but scents and sounds.
And feelings.
It was like I was physically back in that intoxicating scene, living it again, my breaths fast, heart racing. Once again, I was experiencing sensations that were unlike anything else I’d felt in my lifetime, weakening me while simultaneously imbuing me with powerful energy and bone-deep pleasure.
Struggling to keep from succumbing to it and embarrassing myself, I forced open my heavy eyelids and interrupted the flow of sensual input.
Pharis was watching me with keen interest, his lips parted slightly and his eyes burning with blue fire.
Did you just put that in my head? I demanded.
Apparently one of Pharis’ recently acquired glamours was the ability to implant visions in another person’s mind.
He grinned. You’re welcome.
“I’m not grateful,” I sputtered in protest. “I’m… I’m…”
“Hot and bothered? Turned on? Begging for more?” he suggested helpfully.
“Angry,” I said. “I don’t appreciate you using your assortment of party tricks against me.”
“You seemed to be enjoying that one just fine,” Pharis teased.
“Well, I wasn’t. You might be able to force a vision into my mind, but you can’t read it,” I spat.
“Pardon me,” he said. “I stand corrected.”
Clearly he wasn’t convinced. A terrible thought occurred to me.
“Can you also detect spoken lies? Do you have Truthsaying glamour now?”
He gave me a devilish grin but then said, “No. Why do you ask? Are you planning to lie to me?”
I glared up at him. “No, that’s your role, Prince of Lies.”
“What other glamours do you have?” I demanded. “What else can you do?”
“Well, let’s see… you already know about the shadows and visions. And as you saw when you attempted to skewer me with your dinner knife, I can move objects with my mind. That’s about it… other than a few other minor ones that wouldn’t concern you.”
I didn’t like his evasiveness.
“Is one of them… sexual glamour?”
Pharis coughed as if he’d just choked on thin air.
I knew it. “That’s a yes, isn’t it?”
“No, actually, that’s not one of them,” he said. “It’s just… that’s what I thought your glamour was that night we met at the Opening Night ball and you were disguised as an Elven noblewoman.”
“Really?” A flurry of nerves tumbled through my belly.
Another memory from our time in Havendor resurfaced—Pharis telling me that he hadn’t kissed or even thought of another woman since that night. I reached down to scratch a non-existent itch on my ankle, just so I wouldn’t have to look at him.
I’d seen where listening to his sweet nothings got me. And now he was essentially coercing me in exchange for keeping my family safe.
I reminded myself not to fall for anything that dripped from his honeyed tongue.
“That just proves how little we know each other,” I said in a pert tone.
I’m all for getting better acquainted, he said.
Not happening, My Prince.
He chuckled. “So now we have definitive proof that you are capable of non-verbal communication. Oh, and feel free to practice with my staff. I already know you’ve been speaking with them out loud.”
I blinked in surprise. “You do?”
“Very little happens around here without my knowledge, Raewyn. As I told you, I have quite a collection of glamours at this point.”
“Please don’t be mad at them—don’t punish them,” I pleaded.
One of his dark brows went up. “These people are like family to me. I wouldn’t harm them for the world. Besides, I don’t want you to be lonely, and I can’t spend all day trading innuendo with you.”
He shot me a dazzling grin. “Though if you’re ever ready to tell me the truth about my ‘prowess as a lover,’ I’m all ears.”
I tried again to slap him, but Pharis caught my hand mid-air.
Then he turned it so my wrist was exposed. He bent his head and kissed it, lingering a moment with his hot lips on my sensitive skin.
The unexpected contact was innervating, like a lightning strike to my system. My heart instantly began pounding in my ears. I’d have been shocked if Pharis couldn’t feel the blood racing in the veins beneath the thin skin of my wrist.
He lifted his head, his eyes looking panicked, like he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just done.
That made two of us.
“I must go,” he said curtly. “Do you need me to help you inside or do you think you can get there yourself?”
“I can do it. Just go,” I said, a bit breathless.
It might or might not have been true, but I’d rather have crawled across the lawn on my belly like a worm than accept his help at the moment.
Pharis gave me a little bow and excused himself. “Until tomorrow then, my lady.”