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“Is it true you can turn into a giant black cat?” the boy asked in a rush. The other two burst into renewed giggles, clearly fellow instigators of the question, no matter who’d been elected—or blackmailed—into asking.
“Yes,” Nic replied, baring her teeth in a wicked smile and curling her fingers into claws. “And if you’re naughty, I’ll get you with my finger-length, razor-sharp claws.” She pretended to swipe at them, and the kids ran off, shrieking. “I shouldn’t have done that,” she mused, seeming surprised at herself.
“They’ll recover—and now they have a good story to tell.” Gabriel poured her a glass of lemonade. At least his hand was steady. “It’s not Elal Summer Red, but we grow our own lemons and sugar cane, so it’s fresh.”
She took the glass from him and set it down, drilling him with that hard stare. “So, what spell did you use to ensure I’d get pregnant that night?”
He tried to look surprised, knew he was failing miserably. “Ah, what do you mean by—”
“Don’tlie,” she spat. “We both know what I heard your mother say. And I’ve been thinking back to that night, how confident you were with yoursix or seven attempts.” She drawled that last with biting sarcasm. “Youknew. Tell me how you did it. I know you don’t have any Refoel healing magic—unless you cheated on your Convocation scores, too.”
“I didn’tcheat,” he fired back, “on anything.”
“You did something to ensure you’d win your supposed gamble. Tell me.”
He drained his lemonade, resigned. “I used a moon-magic spell to ensure fertility.”
She regarded him with a look that shredded him. “How is breaking the rules not cheating?”
He fought the urge to squirm in his chair. “The Betrothal Trials rules state that only House Refoel may unlock a familiar’s fertility and that a wizard may not consult with any Refoel healer to enhance their own fertility, and that any wizard with healing magic must succumb to temporary suppression of that magic in order to not influence the fertility of either wizard or familiar. I don’t have any healing magic, nor did I consult with anyone from House Refoel.”
She held his gaze a moment longer, hers remote. Then she rubbed the furrow between her winged brows as if it pained her. “Gabriel, it’s still cheating.”
“Not exactly. I—”
“No, Gabriel,” she shot at him, eyes blazing. “Don’t you get it? You just lost your claim to me. Not only have you lied to me from our first meeting, you used fertility magic to skew the Betrothal Trials. The Convocation already wants to see you fail, and you just handed them the perfect excuse to strip you of everything. You’ll forfeit your house status, the betrothal application fee, me, my dowry,andyour heir. All because you think you’re smarter than the Convocation.”
She lunged to her feet, and he snagged her by the wrist. “I don’t think I’m smarter than the Convocation,” he bit out. “Do you have any idea how those ridiculous rules read? They offered you up like a lamb to the first butcher with a sharp-enough knife, and you’re defending them!”
Nic yanked her hand from his grip but leaned down—unfortunately offering a dazzling display of her lush cleavage—hissing as her eyes blazed furious fire. “Don’t you dare pull the high-and-mighty act, Gabriel Phel, for you were lined up with your knife and fork ready, happy to eat that tender lamb to further your interests. You moan and whine about not wanting to be a wizard, but you’re building up a nice little empire here with your fruit trees and your adoring subjects. You criticize the Convocation for how it treats familiars, you scorn collars with righteous disdain, but you were happy enough to trap me with your child.”
“Why shouldn’t it have been me?” he demanded, guilt fueling his own anger. “So far as I knew, you’d put yourself on the auction block so you could find a good husband, which I had every intention of being. But that’s not what you wanted, was it? Speaking of lies,younever had any intention of following through. You didn’t want me—and that’s why you ran.”
“You’re right,” she spat, curling her fingers into those claws again as if tempted to use them on him. “I had a particular sort of wizard in mind, and it was not the likes ofyou.” She spun to storm off, turned back. “Where is this room I’ve been promised? I’m done here.”
He pushed to his feet, taking her arm. “I’ll escort you.”
“Just hand my leash to someone else.” She tried to jerk away, but he held on. “Stay and enjoy the party for the heroic son returned home with a precious grandbaby for his mommy to spoil.”
Setting his teeth against a biting retort, he strode for the house, keeping a firm hold of Nic. Far too much of a lady to make a scene, she gave up fighting him and strolled alongside, even nodding and smiling at the greetings sent their way. “I don’t want your company,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Well, you’re getting it,” he replied under his breath. “We’re having this out, once and for all.”
“And then what?” she inquired with sugar-coated spite. “Too bad you didn’t buy one of those Iblis collars to chain me with.”
He looked down at her, at the furious beauty of her, both stung by that remark and impressed by her spirit. “That was unfair and you know it.”
“Gabe,” his mother called, waving them over. “Where are you going?”
“Nic is exhausted,” he lied cheerfully, enjoying the mute fury on her face, especially as he was sure no one else detected it through her composed expression. He winked broadly, working it. “Pregnancy, you know. She needs a nap.” He made that last remark particularly pointed, and her eyes glittered with the promise of retribution.
“Oh, of course. How inconsiderate of me. Perhaps we’ll see you later at dinner. Or breakfast, if you prefer to sleep the night through.” She eyed Gabriel with maternal longing. “Will you be back down, or…?”
“We’ll see. Would you send up a tray to leave outside the door?” He glanced at Nic, who was resolutely avoiding his gaze. “I think we’re both worn out and… peckish.”
“Of course. Lady Veronica, do let us know if you need anything at all. We tried to make your rooms as nice as possible, but, well…” She waved a hand at the rambling, half-ruined house. “We are provincial, as you can see.”
“I’m sure it will be lovely,” Nic unbent enough to say, giving his mother a warm smile. “I’m sorry to have to leave such a wonderful party when you went to so much trouble to make me welcome.”
