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“I didn’t say anything—”
“Yeah, but your aura’s doing the judgmental thing, so don’t.” Morgan rubbed her forehead, then winced as she realized she’d probably just taken off half the makeup that Keli had carefully helped her apply before the celebration. “He’s… it’s nothing he’s done wrong, alright? We actually—made friends a little, this term.”
“You did?” She could see Acantha biting her tongue.
“Yeah. Our teacher made us work together on this project, and … I don’t know, I stopped trying to be nice to him and he ended up being … pretty good company, overall. It’s—anyway, it’s fine, I just… I found out he’s not coming back next semester.”
“Failed his exams?”
“No,” Morgan said darkly. “No, I think he did fine on his exams. He’s going to work for his father’s company instead.”
“And this bothers you…?”
“Because he’s my friend.” She sighed. There had never been any point trying to lie to her sister. “And if I’m very honest, a bit more than that, too.” Acantha’s face remained impassive. “And I’m just… I’m worried it’s not what he wants, and I don’t want him to be miserable for the rest of his life trying to get the approval of his father, because he’s never going to get it, and he’d be so much happier here, and… and I’ll miss him,” she added, scowling. “So there. That’s what I’m worried about.”
There was a soft cough. Cato was standing behind them, holding five small plates so loaded with appetizers that she had a suspicion he must have been using discreet magic to keep everything balanced. “Couldn’t help but overhear. Archer? As in, Grant’s son, heir to the enormous fortune of the most extensive transport company known on any insula? Curly hair, parties too much? Yeah,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “Just saw that guy walk straight into the forest. Not sure if that’s useful information for you, but it seemed pretty weird to me.”
Morgan frowned, watching as Cato carefully placed his illicit haul of stolen stacks on the bench beside Acantha, whose expression remained aloof and faintly disapproving even as she swiped a cracker and popped it into her mouth. “What do you mean, into the forest? Down the path to the beach?”
“No, no. Straight into the trees. The man was making his own path.” Cato hesitated, sneaking a sidelong glance at Acantha, who had quietly availed herself of another entree. “I think he was talking to his father before he left. He seemed like someone who might benefit from a conversation with someone less… awful.”
Morgan nodded, rising to her feet. “I’ll be back soon. I just—I want to make sure he’s okay. He’s a jerk, but…” She looked at Acantha, wincing at the thought of the scorn her sister was probably about to unleash on her. But to her surprise, Acantha just shrugged.
“Go,” was all she said, her voice softer than Morgan had expected. “Take your time. We’ll be fine here.”
Morgan smiled… but she hesitated for just a moment before she left, unable to resist. “Love really has turned you soft, you know?” Then she darted away through the crowds, Cato’s roar of laughter echoing after her. She was going to pay for that later, she knew.
She headed for the door Cato had pointed out, her heart thumping in her chest. Enough of the game they’d been playing, she decided, straightening her back. She was going to look him in the eye, and she was going to speak honestly about how she felt about him… and about what she thought about this idea he’d had to abandon everything he’d started building here to work at his awful father’s company. She could get through to him, she knew it. The man she’d gotten to know over the last term, the glimpses of his real self she’d seen through all the bravado—she knew he was strong enough to stand up to his father.
She just had to be brave enough to risk being vulnerable with him, one last time. She took a deep breath, trying not to think about the last time she’d let down her guard with him. She had a choice between holding that grudge for the rest of her life and never letting their connection go any further than it had already… or she could run the risk of getting hurt again for the chance of building something deeper. She had no idea what was going to happen, but she knew she wouldn’t forgive herself if she didn’t at least try.
Finally, she’d made it across the Hall, and she was almost through the enormous double doors when she felt a hand take hold of her elbow, stopping her in her tracks. Frowning a little at the strength of the grip, she turned sharply, trying to tug her arm away to no avail. The man who was holding her was peering at her intently through light brown eyes that were horribly familiar… and she knew before he’d even opened his mouth to speak that she was looking at Archer’s father.
“Where are you going, young lady?”
One more time, she pulled on her arm—and he finally released it from that too-hard grip, seemingly content that she wasn’t going to flee his presence. “I’m following a friend of mine into the forest,” she said, looking at him closely. “But you know that, don’t you?”
A faint smile. He wasn’t surprised to be recognized, she thought. Of course, he wasn’t. Grant was one of the wealthiest dragons living—like Archer, he was likely in the habit of assuming that everyone he met knew his name already. Well, she’d have to find some other way to surprise him. “My son has always been theatrical,” he said dismissively. “Why don’t you return to the party? I’ll handle this.”
“That’s alright,” Morgan said brightly, not letting her fixed smile waver. “I’d like to see him regardless.”
“I mustn’t be making myself clear,” Grant said, his eyes narrowing a little. She felt the flare of impatience, felt the weight of assumption behind it. This wasn’t a man who was used to anyone disobeying even his faintly implied orders. The fact that she wasn’t leaping to attention at every hint he gave her was enough to aggravate him. “This is a conversation that doesn’t involve you.”
“And how do you know that?” she asked, finding it surprisingly easy to maintain her cool. “You don’t even know who I am.”
His eyes glinted coldly. “Exactly.” A long pause. Morgan realized that he was waiting for her to collapse under the weight of his withering regard. She didn’t allow her expression to shift.
“My name’s Morgan,” she said. “I’m a friend of your son’s. Quite a close friend, in fact.”
“I see,” Grant said, his brown eyes narrowing even further. “So you’re one of the dozens of women who’ve slept with my son and think that that entitles you to something from us, is that it?”
Ouch. So he wasn’t playing around, huh? She rocked back on her heels for a moment, then narrowed her eyes. “Not at all. But I’m someone who’s actually paid attention to who your son is and what he wants.” She exhaled, trying to keep her expression calm and her voice steady. “I understand that Archer won’t be coming back to Brisant next semester.”
“That’s right. He’ll be pursuing more interesting opportunities with the company.”
“I see. And did you ask him whether that was what he wanted before you made the decision for him?”
“Do I really need to tell you that that’s none of your business?” Grant shook his head. “The standard of education must have slipped since I was a student here. That would certainly explain why my son’s received such high praise from his teachers.”
