“Thank you,” she said when he finished, and shuffled to the dining room.
He went to wash, famished and eager to join his family and savour a rare moment of peace. Of justice delivered by his hand.
When he finally flung into the dining room, Joy startled, and guilt struck him. He was still carrying it since he triggered her that time, not just for Jane’s sake, but for everyone’s.
Curses,Gwin was right. He had a damn leash.
“What did I miss?” he asked, taking his seat.
“Jane was just telling us about their tutoring today,” Finn said as he worked through his roasted chicken.
Joy toyed with her food, seemingly calm. Reagan kept an eye on her regardless.
From his side on the table, Jane met his gaze. In the chandelier’s bright light, the faint circles beneath her eyes were impossible to miss.
“I was saying that Kellan taught us about familiars,” she said, balancing a potato on her fork. “And the lesson was…surprisingly insightful.”
Reagan’s mouth curved as he watched her cheeks flush. He already guessed where this was going.
“Don’t tell me Kellan managed to reveal your familiars already?” Gwinifer asked. “Actually, I wouldn’t be surprised. He identified mine rather early.”
Jane raised her brows, clearly curious. “He was explaining the different types of familiars, how they reflect the person’s nature. He also spoke about water familiars…”
Both Reagan and Gwinifer grinned knowingly.
“Did he now?” Gwin asked.
Jane’s lips quirked. It had been too long since he’d seen her even mildly entertained. “He said water familiars are often bound to those who are fluid and sensual…and sometimes, vicious.”
She didn’t say how they were also secretive, felt too deeply and preferred solitude because of it. Probably trying to be sensitive.
“Are you asking what mine is?” Gwin asked, tilting her head.
Jane shrugged. “I just thought it was interesting.”
The table fell into a soft hush as Gwin regarded her. Reagan knew his sister well enough to recognise her dislike of exposing personal things. Unless her trust warranted it.
“It’s a shark,” Gwin said at last, reaching for her glass and taking a sip of wine.
Jane’s head cocked to the side, as if she was considering the revelation.
“That reminds me so much of my teaching years,” Cerridwen mused, her gaze settling on the sisters. “There’s something profoundly meaningful in watching people come to know themselves. Kellan probably mentioned it, but one’s familiar only reveals itself fully right before the twenties are reached.”
Reagan listened, the conversation carrying him back to those evenings when Cerridwen’s lectures were constant during their meals. She rarely taught now, but with the Darlings so attentive, he could tell his Second was quietly relishing the opportunity.
“But the question is,” Reagan cut in, “why was the lesson insightful for you?”
Jane glanced at her sister, waiting to see if she’d speak. Joy slowly turned her head in her direction, seeming to realise that every gaze at the table had turned her way.
“I like cats,” Joy said.
“Cats?” Finn echoed, likely already constructing his theories, eager as ever to read people.
“Yes, cats,” Joy confirmed. “The tutor said they represented this notion of… individual power.”
Cerridwen hummed. “It’s not quite the same as being fond of the creature. I have no particular affection for my deer, yet it comes to me when I wield. Barracus feels the same about his owl.”
He gave a small nod, his attention fixed on his plate. Reagan remembered that Elaith had been here today, as he rarely was, and suspected his Third was only still here for the staff meeting.
