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Brahm must have heard us coming down the stairs. He strode from a nearby room that might’ve been his office, based on the furnishings.
“So what does she say?” He had changed out of his everyman attire into plain but elegant trousers and a black silk waistcoat. He toyed with his pocket watch, swinging it like a pendulum on its fancy gold chain.
“She told us to go away and let her sleep,” I said.
He stuffed his watch into his waistcoat and scowled. “You were with her much longer than the length of time it takes someone to say, ‘Go away.’”
I tossed my hands out at my sides. “She doesn’t trust me. And I can’t say I blame her.”
“Maybe I should try talking to her.”
I gripped his arm, holding him in place before he charged up the stairs. “Let her sleep. Maybe after the mordid’s effects wear off, she’ll be more willing to listen.”
“When the mordid wears off, she’ll just ask for more.”
“We won’t give her any.”
“It doesn’t work like that. If withdrawal is too sudden, it could kill her. She’s too weak to fight the sickness.”
“Can she be weaned off?” Niffin asked. “I know something that might help.”
“I’m not a mordid expert. I only know what I’ve seen it do to others.” Brahm grimaced. “What are you going to do with her, Evie?”
“I want to help her.”
His mouth puckered. “I’m not sure that’s possible.”
“I might know a way.” Niffin peered at his feet.
“What do you need?” I asked.
“Brigette is an apothecary, correct?” Niffin glanced up, meeting my eyes. “She might have the ingredients in her shop.”
“My carriage will take you,” Brahm said.
Niffin kissed Malita’s cheek. “I will return as soon as I can.”
Leaving Niffin to make arrangements with Brahm, I tugged Malita’s sleeve, encouraging her to follow me outside into the afternoon heat. Summer was coming to an end—I smelled autumn in the breeze stirring the fine hairs at my neck and temples. Malita and I strolled the grounds of the Schulzes’ large estate, admiring the gardens and lawns, but my attention drifted to the stables whenever they were in sight.
Gerda used to tell me ghost stories when I was younger, and the spirits in those tales never appeared in daylight or in direct view. They preferred to come out at night, darting through shadows at the corner of one’s eye. Gideon’s father was rather like those ghosts, and I wondered if he’d ever let me see him.
“Brigette will say yes to you,” Malita said. “When she does, then we will go to the Council, yes?”
“Yes.”
“But where do we find them?”
Catching sight of a pond, I tugged Malita’s sleeve again, leading her across a sloping lawn of trimmed grass. “I’m hoping Brigette will know the answer to that.”
Swans glided across the pond, their long necks bent in graceful arcs. Like creatures from a dream, their white feathers glowed in the sunlight. “I wish I’d brought something to feed them.”
Malita glanced at the birds, her brow furrowing. “What do they eat?”
“Probably minnows and frogs. But I’m sure they’d be happy with a few breadcrumbs.”
“We have many birds in Chagda, but none as... fahariya.” She rubbed her chin, thinking. “As proud as those.” She flicked her fingers at the swans and wrinkled her nose. “My favorite is the laughing dove. It is small and plain and brown, but its call sounds like....” She closed her eyes and made a high-pitched chuckling sound. “It is the sound I think of when I think of home.”
We paused in the shade beneath the draping branches of a huge willow. I squeezed her shoulder. “I hope you can go home soon. I know you miss it.”
She smiled sadly. “Not more than you miss yours, and I do not have to fight Magicians when I get there.”
“If you weren’t here with me, if you were still at home, what do you think you would be doing?”
“Father expected me to tend to our goats.” She stuck out her tongue and crossed her eyes, and I laughed.
“I take it you don’t care for goats.”
“I wanted to...” She flexed her fingers as if gripping tools. “Create things. Build things. Our village made plans to build a new water system. I wanted to help.”
Malita and I strolled the perimeter of the pond and talked about our respective homes, describing our old routines and the people we missed most. By the time we returned to the house, the sun had dipped toward the tree line, casting long shadows and muting colors.
Hannah greeted us in the foyer, arms crossed over her chest. Her blond hair ringed her head like a braided crown, and the azure beads in her ears matched the pattern in her day dress. “You two seem to be enjoying yourselves.”
“We are.” I tightened my grip on Malita’s arm. “You have a lovely home.”
“Of course I do. My brother and I work hard to keep it that way.”
“We thank you for sharing it with us.” I curtsied. Malita pulled my elbow, leading us toward the stairs.
“I’ve invited Brigette to dine with us this evening.”
I paused, one foot on the first step. “Oh?”
“It’ll be an ideal opportunity for you to approach her again.”
Brahm had likely shared his intelligence about Brigette with his sister, and I couldn’t blame him. Family loyalty was a sacred thing. “I’ll try my best to convince her, but she won’t be manipulated.”
“She will if you do it right.”
I narrowed my eyes. “We can’t all be like you.”
“Or course not,” she said imperiously. “I’m one of a kind.”
“Has Niffin come back?”
“The Fantazike boy?” Hannah shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t believe he has.”
Malita climbed another step, and I followed.
“We’ll see you at dinner, Hannah.”
She grinned mischievously, and a cold tingle crawled down my neck. “I’ve had a gown delivered to your room, Evie. We have a special guest visiting tonight. Try to look your best, will you?”
Hannah strode away with a dismissive chuckle, as if she considered it unlikely I could look presentable enough for her approval. I was tempted to show up in my day attire, dusty boots, horse hair clinging to my split skirts, hair sprawling loose from my braid.
“Come, Evie.” Malita took my hand. “Do not let her win.”
Malita was right. I wouldn’t let Hannah get to me. If she wanted me polished and shined up for supper, I would turn myself into a glittering gem. Whoever her guest was would know I was a queen without asking.
Ooh, Grandfather said. This should be fun.
***
After leaving Malita in her own quarters to await Niffin’s return, I found a maid tending to Brigette in my room. “Your things have been moved to another room,” the maid said. “If you don’t mind waiting a moment, I’ll show you the way and call for someone to assist you.”
Brigette sat before the vanity mirror in a blue dressing gown. She had bathed, and her dark hair hung in damp ringlets to her shoulders. I caught her reflection’s gaze and smiled at her. “You’re looking more rested.”
She thinned her lips. “For now.”
“Do you need anything? Can I get you something?”
“Don’t be obsequious, Evie. Hannah has already lent me a maid. I don’t need another.”
Flinching, I backed out into the doorway. “Just point me in the right direction. I’ll find my room myself.”
The maid’s cheeks flushed. “Down the hall, third door on your right. It’s the white room.”
I counted doorways until I found the one reassigned to me and stepped into a bright space decorated in gauzy drapes and pristine white linens. It looked as though it had been designed for the swans rather than me, and I felt grubby standing on the thick white rug. On the bed, someone had laid out sheer undergarments, gloves, hose, and a bloodred silk gown. It reminded me of the gown Daeg had made me wear the night he tried to sacrifice me to his son.
Stepping closer to the bed, I fingered the dress’s soft skirt. I gathered the gown against me and studied my reflection in a full-length mirror positioned in the corner of the room. The last time I’d worn such finery was in Prigha Castle. Gideon had been my escort, and he’d looked magnificent in his formal attire—handsome and lethal in black leather and red velvet. Thinking of him brought an ache to my mechanical heart, a yearning I usually tried to ignore because it pained me too much.
Once I started missing Gideon, it was hard to make myself stop.
Indulging in a moment of pining, I slumped on the bed and let myself feel exactly how much I longed for him, even his sullen tempers and overprotective impulses. I missed his loyalty, devotion, and confidence. I closed my eyes and pictured him, his strong jaw, long nose, and granite-colored eyes. His broad shoulders and big, capable hands. The uncanny softness of his lips when he kissed me.
A knock startled me from my daydreaming. My door creaked open, and a maid poked her head in. “M’lady, I’m here to help you get dressed, but oh...” She stepped inside and shut the door. Frowning, she looked me over. “You haven’t bathed yet.”
I leaned over and unlaced my boots. “I haven’t had a chance.”
“Well, there’s no rush.” She ushered me toward the bathroom. “We have plenty of time.”
Plenty of time... do I really need that much work?
You’re always beautiful to me, Grandfather said.
You’re family. You have to say that.
He chuckled. I suppose you have a point.
Once the maid had dressed and painted and styled me to her satisfaction, I asked her to find out if Malita and Niffin were still in their room and, if so, to tell them to come get me before they headed downstairs. I left my door open, and when Niffin stepped in, my eyes nearly fell out of my head from shock. Malita stepped in behind him, and I wondered if I’d ever seen a more beautiful couple.
He wore slim black pants, tall black boots, and a long velvet coat that matched the violet tint of his eyes. His red hair had been brushed to a high sheen until it glowed like garnets in sunlight. Malita wore a gold gown of sunlight trapped in satin, and the red scarf intricately twisted around her hair was finer than any crown. Gold hoops dangled from her ears and wrists. I wanted to kiss her but was afraid of smearing the sparkling powder accenting her cheeks.
“My gods...” I swallowed. “You two are like something from an old painting, from the days when the gods and goddesses were creatures of otherworldly beauty.”
Niffin snorted and flicked long fingers at me. “You should speak. Have you seen yourself?”
I glanced at my reflection. The maid had curled my brown hair, piled it high on my head, and studded the coiffure with pearls and swan feathers. More pearls draped from my neck. The blood-colored dress hugged me until I could hardly draw a breath, or maybe that was the corset the maid had forced me into. It pinched and shoved everything to such ridiculous extremes even I appeared to have an ample bosom. The sight of all that pale bare skin made me blush. I fluttered my lace fan, desperate for a cool draft of air. “Who’s this guest?” I wondered aloud. “Someone to be impressed by putting this much flesh on display?”
“I am guessing you are to be bait on a lure,” Niffin said.
“Must be a big fish for Hannah to go through this much trouble.”
Niffin offered me his arm. I took it, and he led us out. “Two queens on either arm,” he said. “I am a lucky man.”
“You only need the one.” I pointed at Malita. “One is all you can handle.”
Malita snorted. “More than he can handle.”
We were still teasing and poking at each other when we strolled into the Schulzes’ salon. Brigette was already there, looking lovely but unassuming in blue organza. She wore her hair pined up, curls tumbling around her face, and she seemed to prefer clinging to the shadows. Hannah strode toward us, as bright as a tropical bird in a gown of pink lace. Behind her stood two young men in black suits, their backs to us, heads bent in discussion. I recognized Brahm’s tall form, but the young man at his side was unfamiliar.
“Evie.” Hannah grabbed my hand, dragging me away from my companions, whom she hadn’t acknowledged. “Come let me introduce you.”
The two men turned in unison, but instead of looking at me, Brahm’s gaze shot to Niffin, and color rose in his cheeks. Before I could process his response, Hannah had me by the shoulders and was shoving me to a stop before the stranger—a young man with amber eyes that made me uneasy. Chestnut hair tumbled over his shoulders in sumptuous waves, and his cheekbones were as sharp as knives.
He was not handsome as much as he was striking. Alluring. His presence was powerful... and baffling. How could a stranger affect me in such a way?
Watch out for this one, Grandfather said.
You don’t have to tell me.
“Enson Graves...” Hannah beamed as if she were revealing the world’s largest diamond. “Meet Evelyn Stormbourne. I’m sure you know the name.”
Enson clicked his heels together and bowed. Humor glinted in his bright eyes. “A pleasure, my lady.”
“Evie.” Hannah squeezed my hand, excitement radiating through her like the subtlest earthquake. “Enson is a Magician.”
He took my hand while I stared at him, dumbfounded and blinking with my mouth half open. His touch was warm, but it raised goose bumps along my flesh. The air seemed to crackle between us, so I pulled a storm cloud close. Apprehensive, I narrowed my eyes at him. “What a coincidence.”
“You’ll never guess where he’s currently employed.” Hannah rocked on the balls of her feet, obviously eager to tell me. Too eager, which probably meant I wouldn’t like the answer. She wielded information like weapons, striking to cause the most pain and damage in one brutal blow.
“I’m afraid to ask.” Unconsciously, I stepped back and tugged my hand free.
Hannah batted her lashes at her brother. “You tell her, Brahm.”
“This was all your idea, sister.” His lip curled. “Take credit where it is due.”
She wrapped herself around Enson’s arm and flashed her teeth at me. Perhaps it was supposed to be a smile, but it seemed too predatory. Enson might have had the eyes of a wolf, but Hannah the personality of one. “Enson is Lord Daeg’s Magician.”
Everything went cold, dark, and muffled. I stumbled away. Niffin and Malita caught me, wrapping me in their embrace.
“I’ve convinced him to sneak away for the night and come have fun with us,” Hannah said.
“W-Why?” I stuttered. “Why would you do that?”
“You were looking for a Magician powerful enough to stand up to Le Poing Fermé, right?” She twiddled her fingers at Brigette, who stood away from the party, stiff and silent, her dark eyes watching everything like a hawk. “Brahm found you one, but she’s broken. I found you a better one.”
The muscles around my eyes tightened. My shoulders stiffened. “You brought me the Magician who works for a man who wants to own me or kill me or both.” I gritted my teeth. “What were you thinking?”
“Lady Stormbourne, wait.” Enson raised his hand. “Daeg doesn’t know I’m here. I came of my own accord.”
“I know Daeg’s Magician.” Tremors rippled through me. “You are not him.” Daeg’s Magician had been tall, haggard, and old. Nothing like this striking young man standing casually before me as though nothing were amiss. As if his employer weren’t thirsty for my powers and my blood.
“You mean Diodorus?” Enson’s lips puckered as though he’d tasted something sour. “Daeg sent that bumbling prat packing the night he failed to transfer your birthright to Aodan.”
“And now what? We sit down and have a pleasant dinner together and pretend like you won’t go back and tell Daeg I’m sitting here wrapped up like a gift waiting for him to come and take me?”
“I won’t tell him a thing.”
“Why not?”
“Because.” He placed a hand over his heart and gave me the full weight of his piercing gaze. “I want to work for you.”
I blinked at him as my brain spun, trying to process his meaning, but it was too absurd. “Why would you do that?”
“Daeg is a has-been, or if he isn’t, he will be soon enough.”
“As if I could ever trust anyone who would be so disloyal.”
He gave me an arrogant, cold smile. “If you need a strong Magician, Lady Stormbourne, I am the man for the job.”
Brigette’s snort broke through the tension. Enson turned, silently watching as the frail young Magician approached.
“You’re daring and clever, Enson. I’ll give you that. But when it comes to raw, innate power, you’re no match for Le Poing Fermé.”
He arched an auburn brow. “And you are, Brigette?”
She bit her bottom lip, saying nothing, and hostility filled the room like fog on a cold morning after a storm. The two Magicians had history, it seemed.
Brahm sighed and rocked back on his heels. “I’m sure dinner’s ready by now, and if it’s not, it will be soon enough. Hopefully everyone will be less testy on a full stomach.” He motioned to the open doorway. “Niffin, will you lead the way?”
Niffin folded Malita’s hands around his arm and strode from the room. Hannah claimed Enson as her escort, and they followed Niffin and Malita out. Brahm opened his mouth as if to say something to me. Instead, he let out a breath, shook his head, and marched away, leaving me alone with Brigette.
“I had no idea Hannah was going to do that,” I said apologetically. “I feel like I’ve been tackled by a charging bull I never saw coming.”
“Don’t worry about it. It was kind of fun to watch you struggle to keep up. You did, by the way.” She winked at me. “You might have been surprised, but you didn’t let it get the best of you.”
“Hannah is the worst.”
Brigette threaded her arm through mine and propelled us out of the room. “She is. I can’t disagree.”
“I don’t want to hire Enson.”
“I don’t blame you.”
“I want you.”
“Why?” She paused at the parlor’s threshold and stared at me, eyes wide and unblinking behind her spectacles. “Didn’t you hear Hannah? I’m broken.”
“We all are.” If I told her about my mechanical heart, would it sway her opinion of me in the right direction? Or would she shun me as too much of a freak? “My court is a band of misfits. You’d fit right in.”
