Chapter 16
Sixteen
???
The dowager altered the seating arrangement of her guests at every supper, following no discernible pattern. Nicholas always sat at one end of the table, and his mother at the other, but the women in between shifted.
After winning the game that afternoon, Sadie sat on Nicholas’s right with Abigail across from her and Jane next to her. Lenora took the other center seat with Helen and Beatrice flanking Madeleine.
Conversation was subdued that night. Abigail kept trying to engage Nicholas, but he barely looked at her and only provided monosyllabic answers. Sadie was fairly certain Beatrice and Madeleine were discussing a book at the other end of the table, and everyone else focused on their food.
As Sadie enjoyed a bite of absolutely delicious roasted potatoes, Abigail tried yet again to elicit a response from Nicholas. “Don’t you think?”
Abigail’s expression was one of sultry innocence as she gazed at the baron. Sadie truly didn’t understand how she managed such a thing, but it was the only descriptor that fit. She’d have to tell Pippa about it. Her friend would want to master the expression herself.
Sadie hadn’t been following what Abigail was saying.
She had forgotten to strengthen her charm before supper, and struggled to pay attention to the words spoken rather than the thoughts flying at her.
Nicholas, she knew, didn’t have that same excuse for distraction, but he didn’t seem to be following along any better.
He grunted a vaguely positive agreement at Abigail and looked pointedly at Sadie. “What did you get up to the rest of this afternoon?”
His thoughts focused on images of her at the spring, and Sadie was grateful when Jane hopped into the conversation and responded for her. “She helped me in the brewing room.”
Why is he so interested in Sadie? She’s old and boring and not even pretty.
The contrast between Abigail’s thoughts and Nicholas’s had Sadie clenching her teeth, trying not to react. She’d never been able to close off her power intentionally, but how open she was to hearing thoughts without her charm came and went in unpredictable waves. Tonight was a tsunami.
He’s supposed to be paying attention to me!
Distantly, Sadie was aware that Jane was still talking over her at Nicholas.
“I was looking for a calming potion recipe after what happened the other day, and Sadie found one in an old grimoire. Not only that, but she copied it out for me, omitting all the little side notes witches seem to leave in the middle of their recipes, and I think she simplified the language of the steps, because it made so much more sense than the other recipes I looked at.”
“Most earth-witches include a concise version of the glyphs they used at the bottom for easy reference,” Nicholas answered her, though his eyes kept cutting back to Sadie.
“Do water-witches not do that? I hate trying to find the important bits in the middle of stories about what they were doing that day, too.”
“They do, but those versions are so simplified I always feel like I’m going to miss an important step. But Sadie had no issues. I swear, she’d make a better witch than me. She even likes going to the forest!”
“You went into the forest with me.” Nicholas kept Jane engaged, but his thoughts weren’t on the younger witch. Sadie looks sick. Is she worried that Jane thinks she’s a witch, now?
She wasn’t worried. Not about that, at least. Her inability to manage her power, on the other hand, had her quite frightened. Thoughts were coming at her faster and faster, and she was struggling to keep track of everything.
Exactly the sort of situation that led to her betraying herself by responding to a thought rather than a spoken question.
“We were barely on the fringes of the forest,” Jane shuddered. “And even then it was so spooky. I really do think there are evil spirits lurking in the Gloaming Forest.”
“Actually, spirits are generally tied to very narrow geographical regions,” Beatrice announced.
It took Sadie a moment to realize the lady had jumped into the conversation from Jane’s opposite side in truth and wasn’t just thinking her response.
“Given the wide-ranging reports of hauntings in the Gloaming Forest, there would have to be a veritable army of spirits spread throughout, which seems unlikely. If the tales of hauntings aren’t a case of confirmation bias by nervous people having accidents, then a demon is far more likely to be the culprit than spirits. ”
“A demon?” Lenora’s fingers spasmed and her fork fell. It clattered against the edge of the porcelain plate, the sound catching everyone’s attention. “Did you say there is a demon in the woods?”
“No,” Beatrice answered calmly. “I said a demon is more likely than malevolent spirits.”
This answer did not reassure Lenora. “A demon sent that bat after me?”
Her fear is delicious. It won’t take much to push her to her limit. I’ll feast on her fear.
Sadie tightened her grip on the fork in her hand, the dark thought catching her off guard.
She tried to make use of the magic that cursed her, tried to track the thought back to the vicious mind where it originated, but her power didn’t work that way.
She knew which thought went with which person from context and logic, not magic.
The thought didn’t fit anyone in the room, even Abigail.
Could there be a servant lurking in a doorway?
Sadie twisted toward the back of the room, where a narrow door led into a hallway connected to the kitchen, but she saw no one.
She turned back in time to see Abigail press a hand over her chest. “You must be cursed!” Abigail leaned away as if this supposed curse could be transferred via proximity. “How else would the demon have been able to target you?”
A few people tried to temper Abigail’s comment. Beatrice offered rational arguments, Madeleine a soothing reassurance. Their words tangled as they spoke at the same time, and Lenora began to wail.
Yes. I’ll scare them all.
“Is the calming potion ready?” Nicholas touched her arm. “Sadie?”
He’d said that aloud, right? “Yes, the calming potion is ready.”
He stood. “I’ll run and grab it.” Will I recognize it?
“Small vial, blue potion.” Sadie told him. She wanted to run out of the room with him, but even standing sounded too hard at the moment. Why was everyone thinking so loudly suddenly?
She pressed the heel of her hands against her eyes and tried to will the mental noise away.
She couldn’t very well lick her thumb or dip it in the wine to trace the glyph on her amulet in front of everyone.
But given the ruckus Lenora was causing, no one should notice her tracing the glyph without the aid of a liquid.
She grabbed the agate at her throat and followed the familiar lines of the hidden glyph with her thumb.
Without any water, her efforts barely dulled the cacophony.
Or maybe most of it was real and not mental.
Her thumb still moving on the amulet, Sadie was able to take in everyone else at the table.
Abigail was talking to Lenora in low tones.
Given the way Lenora shuddered and cried harder, whatever she said was not comforting.
Beatrice was still trying to explain that she hadn’t said there was a demon in the woods.
Madeleine attempted to reassure everyone, but no one paid her any mind.
Nicholas rushed back into the room, the vial of calming potion in his hands.
He removed the cork and held the tiny glass jar out to Lenora.
She didn’t even notice. Abigail reached for the vial, but fumbled just as Nicholas let go.
The liquid spilled directly on Lenora’s chest, startling her into silence.
She stared down at the stain on her gown, her bottom lip trembling.
“Don’t worry, I brought extra.” Nicholas reached into his jacket pocket and removed another vial.
The soft clinks when he moved betrayed that he had grabbed the entire batch of five potions. He uncorked the second one, and this time Lenora took it.
She downed it in a single gulp.
Next to her, Abigail’s eyes narrowed. “Your dress is ruined. You really are cursed.”
Lenora blinked slowly, looked down at her gown, and yawned. The recipe Sadie had given Jane had been the simplest calming potion she knew. It was easier to brew a potion that relied on soporific properties to relax a person than one that soothed while keeping the imbiber alert.
Knowing exactly what had gone into this particular potion, Sadie rose from her seat and moved around the table, offering a hand to Lenora.
She had to stop tracing the glyph on her amulet, but she could last long enough to help Lenora.
“Come on, why don’t I help you up to your room.
I think a bit of rest is exactly what you need. ”
Lenora stumbled to her feet. “Can demons attack in dreams?”
“No,” Sadie said firmly, though in truth she knew very little about demon capabilities.
She knew they were non-corporeal, needing a host to act in the physical world, and that was it.
Which meant that they could very well be masters of nightmares.
But Lenora didn’t need to hear that. She wasn’t haunted by a demon or cursed.
The bat, Sadie couldn’t explain, but as for the rest, the only force acting against Lenora had been Abigail.
???
After the incident at supper, only Nicholas, his mother, Abigail, and Sadie made it to the parlor for the evening. He was honestly surprised to see Sadie. She had looked pale through most of the meal, and he had assumed she would have retired for the night after helping Lenora to her room.
But Sadie was stronger than that. She made it back to the dining room just as Jane announced she was going to spend a few more hours in the brewing room before bed and Helen declared she was too tired to socialize. Beatrice hadn’t said anything and simply followed the others out of the room.
His mother had wasted no time ushering him, Abigail, and Sadie to the parlor at that point, clearly afraid all her guests—or more likely her son—would disappear after that.
During the short walk between rooms, Nicholas made a plan. He couldn’t handle another hour of Abigail.
The instant they reached the parlor, he placed his hand on the small of Sadie’s back and gently propelled her toward the corner of the room with the chess set before anyone could so much as sigh in relief at leaving the drama of supper behind.
“Play chess with me?” he begged softly, not trying to hide his desperation an iota.
“Are you trying to escape your mother or Abigail?”
“Maybe I just want to play with you.”
Sadie snorted. “Both of them, then.”
He was relieved to see she had color in her cheeks once more. Whatever had subdued her at supper had passed.
They reached the circular table with the highly polished chess set. “Light or dark?”
“Dark, but I don’t know how to play.”
Nicholas sat behind the side of the board lined with pale sandalwood pieces as Sadie sat opposite him behind the ebony ones. It left him facing the rest of the room, which hadn’t happened during his other games, as the women had all chosen the light side.
He raised a brow. “Who are you avoiding looking at, Abigail or my mother?”
She smirked. “Maybe I just want to look at you.”
“Both of them, then?”
She laughed. “No, I have no issues with Madeleine.” She lowered her voice. “But if we switched sides, Abigail would glare at me all evening without fear of you seeing that she isn’t all sweetness and smiles.”
“I never thought she was any sweetness, and her smiles make me shudder.” Nicholas picked up a pawn, rolling it between his fingers, but didn’t start explaining how to play.
“It’s a good thing you knew a calming potion that Jane could make.
Pretending to copy it out of a grimoire was smart.
Oh, and feel free to talk normally; I cast an aural ward around us. No one will hear what we say.”
Sadie looked from side to side. “Why can’t I see it? The wards you cast in the forest were visible, even the one the other day which wasn’t as solid.”
Damn, she had noticed that? His cheeks grew warm. “That was a basic physical ward, the most instinctive use of my magic. It was only visible because I hadn’t consciously decided to cast it. When I concentrate, I can make any ward invisible.”
Her eyes went wide. “You used magic unintentionally?”
He rolled his eyes. “I know witches are taught the importance of control as young as possible, but we all give into instinct occasionally. Or are you going to claim that you’ve never used your magic by accident?” He scoffed. “Never mind, you’ll claim you don’t have magic at all.”
To his surprise, she didn’t protest his assertion that she was a witch. Her dark eyes were wide, her lips parted slightly. “Proper magic has to be called up by the witch; it doesn’t just happen on accident.”
“What idiot told you that? Using our elemental affinities takes concentration and practice, but the power that makes us witches? That is as instinctive as breathing. If I didn’t consciously choose not to, I’d walk around wrapped in a physical ward all day every day.”
It was the first lesson every witch was taught: how not to use their power.
Nicholas had cast wards whenever he was startled or uncomfortable for years before getting a handle on the instinct.
Although, he’d never unconsciously cast a ward to prevent interruptions while kissing a woman before.
Not an instinct he regretted, though he had been the one to pull back.
A rogue bat at that point would not have been pleasant.
Sadie looked like he had just said something groundbreaking, though. He set the pawn back on the board, the felt on the underside of the wood muffling the sound as it made contact. “Sadie, what is your pow—”
“Chess,” she interrupted. “You were going to teach me how to play chess.”
If he pushed, she’d leave. So, he wouldn’t push. He’d watch and listen. If she thought “proper magic” could be easily controlled, then he had no doubt that she considered her own power “improper.” And uncontrolled magic couldn’t hide forever.
He picked up a different piece. “This is the king. The goal of the game is to capture your opponent’s king before they get yours.”