My father’s glass came down on the table a little harder than it needed to. “Sebastian.”
“What?” my brother said, blinking like he’d only just remembered we were in the room. “She mentioned it in the foyer when I arrived.”
My father sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know better than to repeat private matters.”
Laughter rested on the tip of my tongue. There was no such thing as a private matter in Eternity Falls. My gaze cut to my father, whose posture had tightened.
“What would Mother need from a Ravenspell?” I asked.
He didn’t answer.
My blood pressure began to climb. If Seraphina had involved the Ravenspells in this mess, I would raze this house to the ground. Family or not, I would not tolerate my mother attacking Isadora.
“Father,” I said, more firmly. “What does she want from the Ravenspells? We aren’t exactly cordial with that family.” Which was understating matters quite a bit.
Another beat passed.
Finally, he exhaled, then muttered into his glass. “She commissioned a spell.”
That was not what I expected. “For what?”
He didn’t answer.
Sebastian, of course, did. “To make her look more youthful.”
I blinked. “I’m sorry—what?”
Sebastian flipped another page, calm as ever. “In Mother’s words, her years are starting to show.”
“Enough, Sebastian,” Ambrose grunted. He sighed, muttered something about being cursed by the gods, then met my gaze. “As you know, your mother is a beautiful woman. But she’s feeling self-conscious about approaching her first millennium. She sought out the Ravenspells for a spell that would help her look more ethereal for the ball we plan to throw in her honor. She’s met with Delancey for the past two nights. Apparently, it’s a challenging spell.”
“Mm,” Sebastian hummed. “It’s artistry. There’s a kinetic element woven into?—”
I patted my brother’s leg. “I don’t need you to explain spell-making to me.”
Then I stared at my father.
“Satisfied?” he asked.
Actually, I was. If Seraphina had been meeting with Delancey for the past two nights, then it seemed unlikely she was responsible for the break-in. Tension rolled off my shoulders, and I relaxed against the sofa. At least I knew one thing for certain: whoever was responsible for the threat against Isadora, it hadn’t come from within these walls.
I rose from the armchair and smoothed my hands down the front of my shirt. “Well, I should be off then. Good day, Father. Sebastian.”
“Lucien,” my father said before I’d made it two steps.
I paused and turned, brows lifted.
He studied me a moment longer, his gaze taking in my loosened tie and folded sleeves. “Have you an update about Miss Laurent?”
Dread crept along the back of my neck. I’d been hoping to avoid this conversation—at least until I knew where things stood myself. I’d made my intentions clear to Isadora, told her I wanted her. She hadn’t rebuffed me, but she also hadn’t offered a reply yet either. The only encouragement she’d given me was that lovely kiss that had kept me up for the majority of last night, replaying it in my mind. But she’d offered no follow-up. Hell, she hadn’t even mentioned it in either of our quick phone conversations since. Until she told me she wanted me, I wouldn’t presume anything.
However, regardless of her answer, I absolutely refused to cause her any harm. My parents wouldn’t understand nor appreciate my stance on that. They wanted to see her run out of town and expected me to do it. Refusal would pave the way for a lengthy discussion, demands, threats, none of which I would take lightly. My parents had never met the true me, the one who had done despicable things all in the name of building my empire.
I would fight to protect Isadora. And if they painted me into a corner, they would soon meet the monster behind the mask.
As their son, I would prefer that never came to pass.
“The council hasn’t received any permit applications from her yet,” Ambrose continued. “Should I take that as a good sign?”
