Selena spent most of her time with Latimer in the seasons that followed.
Not only did the wizard prove to be a capable teacher, but he became her friend as well. While the rest of the castle’s inhabitants treated the two of them as though they were mantled in an enchantment of invisibility, Selena divided her time between short visits with her unresponsive grandmother and hours-long lessons with Latimer.
They always started off in their proper roles—she, the pupil, and he, the teacher. In the morning, Selena would learn new spells or perform old ones for Latimer’s appraisal. At first, she bristled at the wizard’s corrections, but the wizard never dwelled on her shortcomings.
Latimer expected a lot from her, and he never apologized when his bluntness offended her.
During lunch, which they took in his room, the dynamic shifted. The topic remained that of magic, but Selena the student transformed into Selena the debater. They discussed—and sometimes disputed—the philosophies of magic. She had many questions about the Assembly of Magic and its Seminary of Wizardry. Latimer answered her as best he could, yet there were times she suspected the emissary held back.
Latimer was particularly reluctant to talk about the High Masters’ plans for her. He had hinted from the beginning she was a special case, that she was to serve as some sort of example to the rest of Superius. But while Selena was certain she was causing quite a stir in Court—much to her mother’s dismay—she never heard anything about the Assembly’s perspective of how the situation was progressing.
When Selena asked Latimer what he told the High Masters about her studies, the wizard scoffed exaggeratingly.
“A student should not know too much about the pace of her education, lest the praise make her too proud or the criticism lead her to discouragement,” he said in as unctuous a tone he could conjure.
“Which category do I fall into?” Selena asked in an affectedly worried voice.
Latimer sighed but could not quite hide the half-smile forming on his lips. “You can learn most spells in a single day, and most of the incantations I have taught you, you have already committed to memory. You have a better understanding of the mechanics of enchantments than I do, and your instincts for which components are required for a given spell border on preternatural.
“Soon, I fear, I shall have to find another job.”
Despite Latimer’s hyperbolic tenor, Selena felt her face grow warm from the compliments. She had always had a knack for remembering things—passages in books, things people said to her—and she had put that talent to good use where magic was concerned. What Latimer did not know, however, was Selena spent at least an hour each night pouring over her spell book and the scrolls she had transcribed under Latimer’s tutelage.
“How often do you contact the High Masters?” Her question flowed easily into the conversation, though in truth she had been wondering about this for a long time.
Latimer shrugged. “While I do have the means to initiate a meeting with the High Masters, I find it works best if I wait for them to contact me. Believe it or not, the Assembly has more to worry about than one noblewoman’s studies.”
The subject of the Assembly, its High Masters, and the Mastermage intrigued Selena, but she knew Latimer would tell her nothing more about the arrangement. Maybe he was not allowed to.
They always joined the Nelesti family for dinner, which brought a scowl to her mother’s face. After a few months, however, Charlotte finally spoke to Latimer, who always had a compliment for the lady of the house—a fact that never failed to bring a scowl to Briarbridge’s face.
Even the twins occasionally laughed at Latimer’s jokes, and before she had left to be by her husband’s side, Daphene had surprised Selena by engaging Latimer in conversation at the dinner table.
Sometimes Selena wondered why Latimer worked so hard to impress her family. She supposed it was part of his duties as an emissary. After all, the whole reason he was teaching her magic at Castle Nelesti was to improve the country’s impression of spell-casters.
If Latimer could get the Nelestis to accept their mage of a daughter, perhaps the rest of Superius would follow.
When the two of them met in the evenings, they were no longer teacher and student. Often they played chess, wolf and goose, and other games of strategy, though Latimer was wont to complain about how she never let him win. The wizard’s dry sense of humor knew no bounds after Latimer had imbibed a few glasses of wine, and there were nights where Selena could scarcely breath for all the laughing she did.
Sometimes Selena was amazed at what she chose to tell Latimer.
One night, while chatting with Latimer in his room, Selena told him about Lucas, her first love. Either the wizard had imbibed too much wine, or some other factor was fueling his nostalgia because he suddenly started talking about his own childhood.
“I am no stranger to the life of affluence.” He stared at the wine he swirled around and around in his cup, never once looking up at her as he spoke.
“I was born and raised in a castle much like this one. However, I did not live in the lap of luxury. While pregnant with me, my mother sought refuge at this castle, where her sister had worked as a servant for quite some time. My aunt must have put in a good word because the unwed mother-to-be was allowed to stay.”
Latimer threw back his glass, emptying its contents in a single gulp. Selena wanted to say something comforting—she had never seen Latimer looking so glum—but she was captivated by his story. His colorful ring caught her attention as he poured himself another glass.
“The lord and lady treated my family well, and at a young age, I was encouraged to play with the children of the house. But my mother could not abide the thought of my advancing beyond the poverty she had known most of her life and ordered me to stay away from them. She forbade me to interact with anyone above our lowly station.
“Like you, Selena, I ran away. I vowed that I would better myself, and so I have. While I lack the title of my former playmates, I am no less refined. I suppose I have the Goddesses’ gift to thank for my success, but even if I were not a wizard, I like to believe I would have become a gentleman of esteem.”
She wanted to ask if Latimer ever saw his mother, and she was curious which castle he had once called home. But now was not the time for questions. Latimer had confided something very personal, and Selena would treasure the moment, savor it in silence.
He must have noticed her staring at his ring because he began to fidget with it, straightening the band so the curious jewel was perfectly positioned on his finger. Selena looked up—and it was as though she were seeing Latimer for the first time.
From the start, she had found him handsome. Tonight, he was beautiful. His dapper styling and voluble vernacular were as much a farce as the mask of indifference Selena had inherited from her father.
Does everyone recreate the parts of themselves they do not want the world to see? she wondered.
The ache in her breast was too powerful to ignore. Selena silenced the logic of her misgivings and rose from her seat. She did not know if it was love that propelled her—it might have been sympathy or simply lust—but she surrendered to the impulse.
Ever so slowly, feeling intoxicated by the moment, she leaned down and kissed Latimer.
His lips tasted as sweet as wine. When he kissed her back, a jolt of absolute joy sent a shudder throughout her body. His warm, strong hands held her hips, and the next thing she knew, he too was standing.
She let out a throaty moan as Latimer kissed her neck. He was holding her so tightly now, crushing her body against his. She became aware of every contour of his figure as well as her own. Eyes closed, she felt the room spin. Latimer’s kisses landed on her throat, her collarbone, and yet lower.
Selena arched her back, relishing the waves of pleasure.
Yes, she thought, love is a lot like magic.