Chapter 8 #2
“How could he?” Iliana replied with some irritation.
It wasn’t Gabriel Phel’s fault that he grew up outside Convocation society.
Would Nic have rejected him for that reason?
Iliana had never pegged her for that much of a snob.
“He was a late bloomer. By the time he manifested, it was too late for him to attend academy.”
“A late bloomer like Han. Speaking of which, what’s going on with you two?” Alise leaned her head in her hand, craning to get a good luck at Iliana’s face. “I saw you dancing all night with him.”
“Mmm.” Iliana acknowledged noncommittally, sipping her tea. “Han is a good friend still.” At one time the three of them had been the best of friends.
“You’re blushing,” Alise pointed out. “Tell me everything.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“Uh huh. Then why this thing?” Alise snaked out quick fingers to twitch the lace away, her eyes rounding. “Whoa. I’m aroused just looking at that love bite. How did it feel getting it?”
“Eyew!” But Iliana couldn’t help laughing as she scooted away. “I didn’t need to know that and I’m not telling you anything.”
“That’s all right, I can just imagine.” She sighed dreamily. “You two are so romantic. Like Sylus and Lyndella, a real wizard-familiar love match.”
“Han isn’t a wizard.”
“Yet.”
“We don’t know that,” she argued. “It could go either way.”
“Oh, come on. With his MP scores? Everyone knows Han will be a powerful wizard, and you’ll be his beautiful familiar, the new epic romance.”
“Everyone thought Nic would be a wizard, too,” Iliana reminded her.
“True.” Alise deflated. “Life is so unfair.” She perked up again. “But you are in love?” she asked wistfully.
She was. And, with all the hindsight of the morning after, Iliana recalled all the excellent reasons why being in love with Han was a terrible idea.
Living in the moment sounded great during the moment; it was afterward that one had to deal with the repercussions.
Nothing had changed—whether Han manifested as a wizard or a familiar, whether they were in love or not, it all spelled doom for Iliana’s heart.
Losing her appetite, Iliana stared at her plate.
“I don’t want to talk about this here,” she said in a lowered voice. “I’ve already been warned.”
“Yes.” Alise lowered her voice, too. “You should be careful. Besides, here he comes now.”
“Good morning, ladies,” Han said smoothly. He had his long, pale hair neatly tied back, and he looked unbearably handsome as he sat across from them. He raised his brows at Alise. “Is this a Founder’s Day miracle, wizards lying down with familiars?”
“Han, don’t—”
“No, it’s all right,” Alise interrupted. “It’s been weird between us and I’ve hated it. So, yes, I’m having a shitty day and would appreciate a truce.” She glanced at Iliana. “You can tell him, but later. Swear him to secrecy.”
Iliana nodded, Han looking curious, but he let it go when Iliana gave him a look. He smiled at her innocently, but his eyes glinted with sensual mischief. “And how are you this morning?” he asked in a low, intimate voice.
Iliana’s face flushed hot—sometimes she really hated about her translucent complexion—as the previous night flashed through her mind in an erotic kaleidoscope.
“She is glowing,” Alise answered for her. “Well done, my friend.”
“It wasn’t all him,” Iliana noted acerbically, stung by the implication that she’d somehow just lain there while Han worked his magic. Though that wasn’t far from the truth.
“It’s true,” Han murmured. “I feel quite… ravished this morning.”
Alise cupped her chin in her hands. “Realllly. Do tell.”
“Don’t tell.” Iliana cut in with a meaningful glare.
Han closed his mouth and shrugged at Alise. “The lady has spoken.”
Alise groaned. “She won’t tell me anything.
I hate you both.” They all laughed and, for just that space of time, it was as if nothing had changed between them.
But it had, and soon they’d all be going their separate ways.
Han and Alise seemed to be struck with the same thought, sobering along with her.
“How are you spending your festival day?” Iliana asked Han, hoping to break the mood. The big celebration didn’t begin until evening. “There’s ice skating, and then the magic exhibition.”
“Sign me up for both,” Han replied with a warm smile that quickly faded. “Once I’m done in the Tower of Testing.” He dropped his voice into sepulchral tones for that last, but neither Alise nor Iliana laughed.
“You have to go today?” Alise asked, aghast. “No one is working today.”
“Just proves what we’ve always suspected,” Han replied with an easy grin. “The proctors aren’t actually human, but are automatons puppetted by the oracle heads.”
“Yuck,” Iliana said, scowling at him.
He continued to grin unrepentant. “You just don’t have a good counterargument.”
“I have better things to do with my brain that think up counterarguments to frivolous theories.”
“Oh yes?” he purred, gaze traveling over her. “What are you thinking up, lovely Iliana? I hope you’ll try it on me later.”
“Stop that,” she hissed.
“You two are so good together. I’m happy for you. I’d be jealous if I didn’t love you both so much.” Alise sighed. “I wish we were still friends,” she added quietly.
“We can be,” Iliana promised.
Alise smiled ruefully. “I don’t think we can. The proctors really don’t like us consorting with familiars outside of formal situations. You should see—”
A small Ratsiel courier popped into the air next to Han, chiming the testing tower summons. Han glared at it. “And there’s my cue.” Standing, he leaned hands on the table, waiting for Iliana to meet his gaze. “I’ll meet you for skating in an hour or so.”
An odd foreboding filled her,but she nodded cheerfully, pasting on a bright smile. “All right. Good luck.”
Han cocked his head. “What?”
“Nothing!”
“That’s your fake smile. What’s wrong?”
Erf. “I’m just sorry you don’t get your full day off.” Holding his gaze, she willed him to believe her. Or, if not, to let it go.
After a long moment, he nodded. “I’ll see you soon.”
He strode off, long queue of pale hair streaming down his back like an icicle of gold. Alise watched Han go, too. “I swear you are insanely lucky, Iliana. I’m going to write an epic romantic novel about you two.”
Iliana laughed politely, privately afraid of just how tragic their ending would be.