Chapter Two #3
His aunt followed his gaze out the window to where the woman was still speaking with her companion, the enormous ring on her left hand glittering in the candlelight.
Aunt Philomena shrugged, sipping her sherry again.
“A perfectly silly creature, not terribly bright, but I suppose that isn’t an important quality in the eyes of a man like Thaddeus Mayles, who isn’t much brighter.
She’s an illusionist, passing through town with her brother—he’s some sort of hotelier, looking to build some monstrous new venture here. ”
While silly and not terribly bright didn’t fit Arabella, the other details were the same: the gift, the brother, the reason for their travel.
How many times had she done this in the last five years?
How many times had she done it before Arden?
The realization made him feel ill, and he pushed away the half-full plate of lamb in front of him. “Bullshit.”
His aunt clicked her tongue. “Language, Arden—I’m beginning to see why you’re having so much trouble with women.” She paused, considering. “It is a bit of a crass business, though, ushering the wider population to our hallowed shores as the Luster population dwindles ever smaller.”
“The wider population is only getting wealthier, and the Lusters are only growing less influential.” Arden realized, belatedly, that he was paraphrasing exactly what Arabella’s brother had told him five years ago when Arden had asked him about his business.
Then, his name had been Stuart, but Arden assumed that was an alias too.
“So Mr. Lindcourt says.” Distaste colored his aunt’s voice. “Perhaps dying will have its advantages. I won’t be forced to watch our world continue to decay.”
Arden wasn’t surprised by his aunt’s vehemence.
Even though he didn’t know the woman well, it was an attitude held by much of the older generation of Lusters.
It had been almost a century since the Lusters held any true power apart from their magic, and many centuries longer since they were lauded as demigods born to rule over and protect the rest of humanity.
With the advances of science and technology, the common people no longer had any need to rely on the goodwill and charity of the Lusters.
They were now able to create their own lives and build their own businesses—a talent some thrived at so thoroughly their incomes now rivaled the fortunes Luster families had been hoarding for countless generations—and Arden’s family wasn’t the first to have fallen on hard times without divine entitlement on their side.
Arden guessed his aunt was born soon after the accords had been signed, abolishing the Luster-run government and electing a government of common people in its place.
Having been born with the world at her feet, he understood what a shock it would be to feel it slowly but surely rise higher over the years, how it might feel like it was swallowing her whole.
By the time Arden was born, the Lusters were an ornamental feature of society, still holding the wealth accumulated over thousands of years and inherited magic that was good for little more than parlor tricks, but even in his own lifetime, he’d seen the lines between the Luster class and the common people blur as the wealth gap between them closed more and more.
In another generation or two, Arden suspected there would be no gap at all.
Hell, he’d even heard of a handful of marriages between the Lusters and the common folk, though those were always met with disgrace and horror since it meant that no offspring of that union would possess Luster magic.
But while the change fascinated Arden more than it frightened him, he knew that those of his aunt’s generation were frightened by the change in society, insulating themselves ever more from the outside world.
“It isn’t Miss Lindcourt you ought to be asking about,” his aunt said, bringing Arden back to the conversation at hand.
Arabella—or whoever she was—had risen from her seat now and was slipping into the dining room.
She barely made it five steps when an older woman stopped her as she passed her table, cooing over her new ring. “It’s Thaddeus Mayles.”
Arden blinked, torn between wanting to confront Arabella here and now and knowing that was unwise.
He couldn’t stop looking at her, tracing the changes the last five years had wrought—her figure was fuller, her movements more graceful.
The lavender silk gown hugged her curves and left her shoulders bare, showing constellations of freckles that Arden had charted countless times in his memory.
Five years ago, he’d thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, but somehow here she was, even lovelier than he remembered.
The knowledge caused his anger to finally catch fire—she was a liar and a thief, after all, and there should be nothing to admire about her, nothing to want.
Still, Arden wanted.
“Thaddeus Mayles?” he echoed.
“The man who apparently just proposed to her.”
That confused Arden enough that he dragged his gaze away from Arabella and back to his aunt. “Why should I care about Thaddeus Mayles?”
“Because his sister is the one I’ve chosen for you to court.
She’s perfect—beautiful and very well gifted.
She can change her appearance, you know.
Not many have that gift anymore. Of course, passing your own gift on is of the upmost importance, but with any luck, after the first few children, one might manage her gift as well. What a feat that would be!”
Arden was barely listening as his aunt planned out the children he would have with a woman he didn’t know, instead tracing Arabella’s figure as she made her way across the dining room and toward the hall.
It led to the washrooms but also to the exit, and Arden knew, with a sudden certainty, that she was running.
He was never going to get his answers, never going to get to see her pay for what she did to him.
If he let her run, he was never going to see her again.
He drained the rest of his glass, forgetting his determination to remain sober and clear headed, and rose to his feet.
“Will you order me another whiskey, Aunt Phi? I need to visit the necessary.”
His aunt gave a harrumph. “Very well, but when you get back, we’ll have a chat about this Aunt Phi business.”