"What were you thinking?" Jean-Paul said, raking a hand through his hair until long strands broke free of the ribbon confining it. He'd stood by Imogene’s side as the storm had broken over her head, but after the emperor had eventually said, "Enough," and turned to start placating the Ashmeiser, he hustled her out of the ballroom and into another of the endless small meeting rooms lining the corridors. The silence in the tiny room was startling. Her breath rang in her ears, and she could hear Jean-Paul breathing hard, too.
"Imogene?" he repeated. "Answer me."
Imogene bristled. "I was thinking that the Ashmeiser was using magic in the emperor's presence. And he was hiding it." Her cheeks were hot, but the rest of her was ice. Shock, she supposed. She'd called a sanctii into the emperor's presence without permission. The Ashmeiser had put on a grand show of outrage that he'd been treated so badly. There was no evidence he'd done anything at all, nothing to warrant the emperor pushing the boundaries of diplomatic protection. She'd made a mistake, it seemed. A terrible mistake. In front of the emperor. In front of Jean-Paul. Who, instead of trying to help her, was yelling at her as all the others had. Her eyes stung, and she gritted her teeth. She would not compound her error.
"Their magic is different," Jean-Paul said. "It feels different."
Was he actually going to lecture her on Andalyssian magic? "I know," she said, wrestling her voice to calm with an effort. "I have been to Andalyssia. I have studied their ways. So perhaps you could grant me the courtesy of not talking to me like I am a child, Major."
His brows drew down. "I'm not—"
"You are," she said. "And I don't appreciate it."
"You made a mistake," he said. "Even if he was using magic, calling Ikarus was...hasty."
He was trying to be calm, it seemed. To talk rationally. But she could see the muscle clenched at his jaw and the fire in his eyes. He was angry. And somehow his emotion only amplified hers.
"Perhaps. I breached protocol, certainly, and I'll wear the consequences of my actions. But I won't be condescended to by you. If you want a wife to talk down to, then I am not the woman for the job."
He scowled at that. "You called a bloody sanctii in the middle of the emperor's ball. You assaulted a diplomat. Allow me a moment to catch my breath."
"No," she said sharply. "I won't. Because you haven't allowed me to catch mine. You said you protect what's yours. So do I. I'm sworn to protect the emperor. Maybe I made an error of judgment tonight, but I'd do it again if I had to. I made a mistake, yes, but I would remind you that I wouldn't have been in the position to make that mistake if you hadn't pushed me to be here tonight."
Part of her knew that was an unfair charge to bring against him. But part of her also knew there was truth to it. He was pressing her. Hurrying her. Attempting to sweep her off her feet, to shape the world his way.
"You're saying this is my fault?" It was close to a shout, disbelief and frustration warring in his voice.
She threw up her hands. "I don't know! But you're pushing too fast. And I can't think. And I won't make a choice this way, Jean-Paul. It's not fair of you. Or to you. Or to me."
"What are you saying?"
"That I need some time. Alone. I need you to leave me alone."
"You cannot be serious about that girl." Andre du Laq stepped into his son’s path as Jean-Paul reached the entrance to the ballroom.
"Father, now is not the time." He was in no mood for a lecture, still reeling from watching Imogene stalk away from him after their fight, fury clear in the rigid line of her back and the swish of her skirts. And getting into an argument about her with his father would only make this night more of a disaster.
"It is," Andre said tightly. "I was willing to indulge you in this, to meet with this lieutenant who seems to have snared your attention somehow, but I must put my foot down. The girl has no control. A duquesse needs finesse. Tact. Judgment."
"Imogene has all those things."
"Yet she called a sanctii in the midst of the emperor's ball?" Andre sounded incredulous.
Jean-Paul hid a wince, thinking of how he'd said as much to Imogene only minutes ago. "She's young. She's only just bonded the sanctii. You know that can be difficult to navigate."
"Yet you thought it was wise to bring her here tonight. Maybe she's not the only one who lacks judgment." Andre frowned. "Did she tell you she intended to bond a sanctii?"
"No. And that is irrelevant." She had thought they had no chance when she'd made that choice. Perhaps she'd been right.
"Do you want a wife so impulsive? One who is a stronger mage than you? That's a dangerous thing, Jean-Paul."
"I want a wife who is a partner," Jean-Paul said. "Whose strengths complement mine. And one who I hope I would never inspire to use her strengths against me."
"Best try not to startle her, then," Andre snapped. "I need you to use your brain here, my son. Stop thinking with your cock and consider your legacy. The responsibilities of a duquesse are vast. Noblewomen are educated from birth to take on such positions. What does an ingenier's daughter know of running a great house? Of duty and tradition? Of politics? You need a girl like Celadin. And yes, I understand that she may not be the one for you, but she is not the only suitable girl at court. Be smart, Jean-Paul. Pick one of them."
"And if I don't? What will you do, Father? Disown me?" He was trying to rein in his temper, but he could feel it sliding from his grasp. He curled a hand into a fist at his side, trying to calm himself. Imogene had left. He had said stupid things. She had done something reckless to incite them, yes, but he could have handled it better. Because she'd left. And she'd asked him not to follow her. Or speak to her. So why was he even fighting with his father at all? Why risk fracturing this relationship, too, when Imogene may have just taken herself out of his life entirely? He didn't know.
His father didn't seem to know either. Andre hesitated a moment, then shook his head. "Don't force my hand, Jean-Paul. Use your brain. And go in there and clean up the mess you made."