AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“No, he doesn’t know, does he?” Indulging himself, he stroked a finger along the velvet skin of her shoulder, taking in the sight of her gloriously nude, voluptuous figure, so enticingly framed by the bronze robe. “Nobody knows that we made the bonding ritual reciprocal, that I’m as bound to you and you are to me.” Likely that’s why the very concept of parting from her felt impossible, striking him with a physical ache.
“We don’t know that it made any difference,” she warned him, but she returned his caress with a tenderness at odds with her forbidding tone.
“We’ll have to experiment, to find out.”
“Something else for the long list of tasks we’re not getting to by lying here on the floor, ravaging each other.”
It pleased him—and perhaps salved his conscience—that she phrased it as a mutual ravaging.
“If thereisa difference in the bonding, we should disguise that fact from the proctor,” she added.
“Wouldn’t the Convocation be interested to know that the bonding doesn’t have to be so one-sided, though? Maybe we should show the proctor the truth.” Maybe familiars wouldn’t have to be so dependent. They could enjoy more freedoms, even choose the wizards they partnered with.
“Youcannotbe serious.” Nic sat up, drawing her robe around her and scowling at him, her tone scathing.
“It could change a great deal.” He sat up also, then pushed to his feet and offered her a hand up.
She took it, then faced him, her expression deadly serious. “Gabriel, I know you’re an idealist, and I also know that you’ve had very little experience dealing with the Convocation, but you cannot imagine that they would take this news well.”
“Yes, it would shake things up at the academy, but—”
“Gabriel!” She interrupted him so sharply, with real fear in her face. “It would turn the Convocation upside down. Do you really think the wizards would stand back and let you do even the slightest thing to erode their grip on the power they enjoy?”
He shook his head. “We can fight them on it, then.”
“Fight them?” She threw back her head and laughed. “Who—you, me, and the barely talented water mages of the Meresin swamps?”
“If necessary,” he replied stubbornly.
She set her teeth, jaw flexing. “Do you have any concept of how vast the Convocation is? We’re talking twelve High Houses, thirty-six second-tier houses, and at least a hundred lower-ranking houses. All of them have more than a single wizard leading them.”
“Yes, but I have the most powerful familiar in the Convocation,” he countered with a smile that she didn’t return.
“They will crush us,” she said implacably. “This is not a fight you can win, Gabriel.”
Maybe not, but it sat ill with him to simply give up without even trying. “Wouldn’t it be worth it?” he asked her softly, stroking the back of her fine-boned hand. “We could change the world, so no familiar ever has to endure the Betrothal Trials again, so no other brilliant young woman like you feels forced to escape to another country to avoid losing her very will.”
“Gabriel…” Her eyes gleamed, luminous with emotion, but she pressed her full lips together into a firm line. “People only change the world in novels. It’s a romantic idea, but not a practical one. The stories don’t tell the real tale because it’s short and boring: someone tries to buck the system, fails, and dies.”
“You said once before that when you read my dossier that you knew I would be the sort to dash myself brainless trying to fight the Convocation,” he offered, still hoping to make her smile. No luck there. She only gazed at him with that look of panic and despair.
“I know it,” she spat, but without any real fire. “I should’ve filed my summary refusal right then.”
“Why didn’t you?” he asked, genuinely curious. “I mean, besides the fact that you also recognized I was naïve and desperate and thus a good bet to be easily manipulated—why didn’t you give the rogue wizard from a fallen house a hard pass?”
“Clearly a major lapse in judgment on my part. Temporary insanity, perhaps,” she replied haughtily, jerking her hand away and tying her robe firmly.
“I think you liked that I was outside the Convocation’s rigid structure,” he speculated, amused by her. “You’re a rebel at heart, Lady Veronica Elal.”
“There’s no need to resort to name calling,” she retorted, then sobered, giving him a very serious look. “Gabriel, please don’t try to fight the Convocation. You’ll only lose. Your status, your house, and likely your life along with it.”
“You’d be free of me in that eventuality,” he felt he had to point out. “Wasn’t that your ideal, to end up a young widow?”
“Yes, but I wanted to be arichwidow,” she countered, smiling at last. “Which means that you”—she punctuated the word by stabbing a finger into his bare chest—“need to reply to my father. Tell him I belong to you now and that my dowry should be delivered to you immediately. It takes money to make money, and I have big plans for increasing the wealth of House Phel.”
“I hear and obey,” he replied wryly.
“Surely that’s my line,” she quipped, softening the stabbing finger to trace his midline down to his belly and the loose cotton pants he’d pulled up again. “Besides, I’d love to get my trousseau and have more than two dresses.”
