In her mind’s eye, Becka could see Maura shaking her head.
“I have a feeling something else is bugging you,” Becka said.
“I got to thinking during your conversation with Maura. She mentioned how you need to step up.”
It shouldn’t have surprised Becka that Luce had been listening, as she’d been right outside the door and they’d been loud at times, but it was still a bit disquieting. “You weren’t even in the room.”
Luce tapped the side of her ear. “Our ears are better than yours. But I had an idea. Nothing like a shifter display, mind you.” Luce laughed to herself. “You fae never throw down and fight each other, unless it’s magical sparring. Or maybe House Oak… Anyway, with Vott out of commission, I was thinking I’d recommend to Brent that he name you as your father’s replacement until he recuperates. What do you think?”
What do I think? Maura would love it. So will Vott, when he wakes up. Plus, maybe I could learn more about this “pact.”
“It sounds like an all-around win. What’s involved in the role?”
“Understand, Vott had us mostly manage ourselves. He signs off on payments to our clan and approves details, but it’s rare he’d change any of Brent’s plans.”
“It sounds straightforward and uncomplicated. Plus, I like your clan, so anything I can do to help, count me in,” Becka replied.
Luce stopped and squared her stance to the divan. “Will do. Plus, I can suggest to Brent that he meet with you daily to ‘review’ findings, or schedules, or whatever. That way the other fae will see you as taking charge of us.”
“Seems sneaky, yet low-impact,” Becka said, and Luce grinned. “I like it.”
“A show of force is in the beholder’s perception, not the actual power behind the moves.”
A single knock on her bathroom door was followed by Saige poking her head in.
“Are you accepting the dinner invite with Alain, or are you blowing him off?” Saige asked. “Because you’re about to be late.”
Becka groaned. “I was blocking it out of my mind.”
Saige tilted her head, as if her reply didn’t quite make sense. “So you’re going?”
Becka picked up her bottle of hot sauce, took a swig, capped it and then slid it into her pocket. She stretched, feeling soreness in her legs and back. At least the dinner wouldn’t include a hike, and she could always beg off early and come back to sleep.
“Yeah, I am, for what it’s worth.” Becka barked out a laugh and headed out the door, both shifters trailing a step or two behind.
“You look unsteady,” Saige said. “Let us know if you need help getting back. It’s no problem.”
Becka nodded, hoping she wouldn’t have to take them up on the offer. Gratefully, Alain had picked a tea hall near her room to host the private dinner, and she arrived within minutes despite her relatively slow, shuffling pace.
Saige opened the door and entered first, Becka following. The room was illuminated with dozens of pure beeswax candles and the windows were open, allowing the scent of jasmine and rose to flow in on the evening breeze. A light evening repast had been set out on the central table. Becka spotted sliced fruits, cheeses, and breads.
Alain stood at the windows, turning to greet her as she entered. His hair was braided at the temples, the rest falling in perfectly kept cascading layers to his waist. His pale golden eyes virtually glowed in the candlelight, and his clothes, a sunset-red shirt and straight-legged amber-toned pants, were tailored to perfection around his thin, willowy form. The embroidered family crest over his heart, the fiery flames of Hawthorne, was unmistakable.
He was the epitome of good grooming.
Alain moved to her and took her gloved hand, placing a single kiss upon it as he bowed slightly at the waist. “My dearest Becka, I am humbled you could make it tonight. Thank you for accepting my invitation.”
She almost pulled her hand back in response to the revulsion hitting her gut, but then thought better of it. No doubt Maura would hear how she’d behaved later from either Alain or the household staff.
“Sure, but I don’t know how long I’ll be able to stay. I haven’t gotten my energy back yet.”
Then Becka realized they weren’t alone.
A short fae female arose from the couches and gave a quick bow in her direction. “Lady Becka, I am Alain’s cousin, Hanna. We met at the trade delegation, but I wasn’t sure if you’d remember after all that’s happened. I’m so glad for this opportunity to see you again.”
“That evening is something of a blur, but I do remember you, Lady Hanna.” Hanna was the one person who’d been enthusiastic to meet her, Becka recalled. She’d been suspicious at the time and now Becka was even more so. Why was Hanna here? “It’s nice to see you again.”
“Please, take a seat.” Alain motioned to the couch nearest her. “There’s no need for you to exert yourself any more than necessary.”
Becka sat, and Alain took a seat across from her, while Hanna sat on the section of the rounded couch squarely between the two of them. Saige stood to one side of the doorway, her gaze fanning between them and the corridor outside. Luce must have been right outside, because Becka didn’t see her. Alain poured Becka some sparkling juice, placing the glass close to her.
Saige stepped in and used a wipe on the rim of Becka’s glass, and then dipped it into the liquid briefly.
“What is that?” Becka asked, her heart skipping a beat. It was one thing to know about the potential of another poisoning, but the reality of having her food spot-checked made the danger visceral.
“You took chemistry at school?” she asked, and Becka nodded. “Then think of it as a type of litmus paper, except this is enchanted to detect a variety of poisons.” Saige used another wipe on the silverware and plate before Becka. “Simply put, if it turns black on contact, it’s bad.”
Is this how all meals are going to be until they catch the poisoner?
“That’s clever, but do you really think they’d use the same method?” Becka asked. She didn’t miss the worried glances between Alain and Hanna.
“Unlikely, but the testing is Brent’s directive,” Saige replied, watching the paper strips.
Alain, sitting forward in his seat, cleared his throat. “You aren’t suggesting that we would poison Becka?”
Saige didn’t miss a beat. “It’s not personal. I’ve been directed to test all of Becka’s food, no matter the source.” She turned to Becka. “You’re clean, drink up.” She drifted back towards the door, blending into the background.
Alain’s expression soured and Becka had the impression that Saige’s explanation hadn’t placated him.
Becka lifted the glass and toasted them, before taking a sip of the refreshing, sweet beverage.
Alain appeared to force a smile, but his expression remained tense. “How are you recuperating from the poisoning?”
“I got lucky. Besides feeling like someone has knocked me off a horse, I’m otherwise intact. I can’t say the same for Vott.” A shadow of guilt moved over her, settling in her chest.
“We are all deeply concerned for his welfare,” Alain replied. “I’ve offered House Hawthorne’s support to your healer, but please let me know if you think of any way we can be of further assistance.”
Becka couldn’t imagine what fire elementalists could do to help Vott in this situation. “I’ll leave the healing to the healers.”
“As you say,” he replied.
“It’s nice you came to visit your cousin, Hanna,” Becka said. “I’m sure Alain misses home.”
Hanna laughed, a tinkling sound that reminded her of Vott’s wind chimes. “Oh, I didn’t come to catch up with Alain. I’m here for both of you.”
Becka attempted to drink and breathe simultaneously and instead coughed into her napkin. “Pardon me?”
Hanna smiled so sweetly Becka wondered how these two were even cousins. “House Hawthorne holds the gift of fire, which manifests differently in our members. Alain can control f
lame and has a keen insight into business dealings. I also have flame control, but I’ve further been gifted with a rare intuition into the passions of the heart.”
It took Becka a moment to process Hanna’s words, and when she did, Becka almost felt like she was back in the city. Her favorite magazine, Boho Today, always had ads for coaches. Style coaches. Depressed pet coaches. Career coaches. Embrace-your-joy coaches. You name it, there was a coach for it.
It felt like the city had come to her in the form of her very own coach. Becka tried but couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up from her solar plexus. “So… wait. You’re a relationship coach?”
Hanna frowned, taken aback at her response. “I am called a passion-seeker.”
Alain sat silent, his jaw clenched. Becka, reminded of her conversation with Maura, suppressed her laughter. She needed to find a way out of this engagement. Pissing off House Hawthorne hadn’t worked so far, therefore Becka needed to take another approach.
“Sorry,” Becka said, taking a deep, slow breath. She curbed her expression, if not her emotions, holding an image of Maura’s disapproving frown in her mind’s eye. “It’s been a trying week and I’m not quite myself yet.”
Alain and Hanna glanced at each other, and Hanna shrugged at him. “She truly isn’t.”
Alain leaned in, setting down his glass. “Hanna has helped many couples I know find their way to joy. You should know I did not send for her. My father had Hanna visit as a gift to us.”
“Duke Eldinrod is a most generous man, but truthfully I wanted to help. I can sense blocks in the heart’s realm and advise how to navigate the obstacles blocking forward progression,” Hanna said, sitting on the edge of her seat and talking quickly.
Considering the fae disdain for human-based psychology, it surprised Becka to hear Hanna’s description. But, she supposed, the fae wouldn’t appreciate the comparison to the endless variety of human coaches. Thinking back to her studies at the Institute, Becka wondered if in the pre-war days, would Hanna’s gift have been developed, or directed, in a more aggressive fashion? She’d read tales of House Hawthorne strategists who’d executed attacks which had terrified the human troops, causing them to break rank and turn on their own, mired in panic.
Now, Hawthorne focused on business strategy. Financial strategy. Obviously, never war. Perhaps, after she got to know Hanna better, Becka might work herself up to asking about the roots of her magic.
Becka helped herself to some slices of apple and cheddar, taking small bites. Gratefully, her stomach didn’t complain this time.
“That’s useful.” But could she use Hanna’s power to somehow prove she and Alain were unsuitable for each other, and would it even matter if she did? “What’s your professional opinion of our issues?”
Hanna smiled, appearing pleased at the question. She looked back and forth between them. Hanna gave a quick shrug.
“I rarely start off like this, but as you’re insisting, my first impression is that you are resistant on almost every level to Alain’s presence.”
Becka paused her chewing and swallowed hard. Comparing Hanna’s gift with human life coaches had been a mistake. Hanna’s insight was sharp as a laser. “That sounds on point. Anything else?” Becka asked, nibbling on another piece of cheddar.
Curiosity lit up Hanna’s eyes. “Quite a bit. I can sense you have a good relationship with the shifter guards you arrived with, but your ties in this house are limited. You have some deep connections in your life, but they are far from here or not within this family. So you can bond, but it takes monumental energy to get past your defenses.” Hanna mumbled that last bit.
Is she even aware she said it out loud?
Hanna refocused on Becka, smiling like a door-to-door cookie salesperson. “Alain told me you haven’t been back at the manor long?”
“If you mean I’ve been back for three months, surrounded by the family that cast me out, and now I’m stuck here because I have a powerful gift that scares everyone off because it’s not well understood or controlled, then yes, I suppose I’ve been back just a short while.”
Hanna’s smile faltered. “Right,” she drawled, and then a moment later her eyes lit up and the smile was back in full bloom. “Of course you are not receptive to Alain. You are unable.”
“Pardon me?” Alain grumbled, his eyes flashing in the candlelight. “What do you mean unable?”
“Becka has experienced a massive trauma, Alain,” Hanna said. “And she has just come to terms with the loss of the life she knew and has not yet accepted her renewed role back within House Rowan. On top of all that, someone just tried to poison her. There’s no path forward for the two of you, until Becka heals the rifts between her heart and her family.”
“Finally.” Becka blew out a long breath. “Someone who gets me.” Becka raised a glass to Hanna, and when neither she nor Alain toasted her back, she drained her glass.
“Are you sure?” Alain asked Hanna.
“I’m afraid so,” Hanna replied. “The path of her healing is long.”
“I am pained to hear it,” Alain replied.
“So… Does that mean the engagement is off?” Becka asked, attempting to keep her voice level.
Both Hanna and Alain looked at her, their confounded expressions like someone who’d tasted salt when they’d expected sugar.
“Why would you think that?” Hanna asked. “House Hawthorne understands you’ve been through a trial. Yes, you need all the support we can give, but it’s not as if you’re a lost cause. The circumstances aren’t even your fault, you poor thing.”
“Support?” Becka asked, fearing the answer.
Alain cleared his throat, and having appeared to collect his emotions, his countenance was once again placid as a meditation pool.
“House Hawthorne is dedicated to upholding the contract with House Rowan. After Tesse’s passing, my father spoke with the seers at House Reed concerning the change in heirs stated in the original engagement contract. Their foresight deemed our collaboration as the most fortuitous pairing of our generation. Hawthorne is thus committed to carry on.”
“Really?” Becka exclaimed, interrupting his train of thought. Why couldn’t she catch a break? “Collaboration is an odd wording, isn’t it?”
He shrugged. “House Reed is often peculiar in their phrasing. We both have excellent pedigrees and, although I am not as potently gifted as you, I am considered one of the premier fire elementalists of my house.”
“Of course you are.” She wasn’t surprised Alain was so focused on how advantageous the engagement contract was for his house, but she couldn’t suppress her woe. When, if ever, would he see her as a person?
“Indeed, I am,” he replied, oblivious to her sarcasm.
“The good news is, I’m here for you, Becka,” Hanna said, leaning towards her, eyes full of hope.
Becka shot Hanna a side-eye. “Thanks?”
“Don’t mention it,” Hanna replied.
“Okay…”
“No really, I’m drenched in your emotions right now. It might be easier for me if you could try to temper things?” Hanna’s suggestion hung in the air for a few moments, her raised eyebrows and expectant smile frozen in anticipation.
Becka shrugged and shook her head. “You know, some people find my blunt honesty endearing.”
Hanna’s expression fell, her lips pursed in a slight frown. “As you say.” She turned to Alain. “I need you to give Becka some space.”
Thank the gods!
Would she get a reprieve from Alain? Perhaps Hanna wasn’t as bad as Becka had feared.
“I have been giving her a wide berth, Hanna,” he replied, his back ramrod straight.
“And now you will give her even more space. For the time being, you will only interact with Becka at times I deem fit. Preferably also when I am present.”
Alain clenched and unclenched his jaw. This wasn’t the outcome he’d been hoping for. “As you say, cousin.”
Becka placed her gl
ass on the table and rose to leave. “Alain, Hanna, as fun as this conversation has been, I’m afraid I need to call it a night.”
They both rose.
“It was wonderful to see you again, Becka. I look forward to working with you.” Hanna inclined her head in respect.
“Working with you?” Becka replied. “What do you mean?”
“Why, I will help you to identify your blocks to joy and find ways to move past them.”
Becka half-expected Hanna to give her a brochure with that phrase embossed on the cover. She was frankly too worn out to argue further.
“Fantastic. I can’t wait,” Becka replied, hearing the sarcasm in her tone she couldn’t quite seem to keep out. “Good evening.”
“Fair evening, Becka. Until we speak again,” Alain said.
Becka gave them a quick nod and then fled the room, Saige and Luce close on her heels. She feared what Hanna mean by “support.” Yet Becka was grateful for the reprieve from more tedious time with Alain and the further delay of their engagement. She hoped working with Hanna wouldn’t be as tiresome as she feared.
When they arrived at Becka’s quarters and were safely behind closed doors, Saige and Luce walked through the room, searching for anything out of place.
A piece of paper lay on her bed, which Luce picked up, read, and then held out to her. “It’s your itinerary for tomorrow, from the duchess.”
“What’s it say?” she asked, knowing Luce had already scanned it.
“It lists a council meeting for you to attend in the morning, an afternoon tea party with Hanna and other ladies of the court, and then a pre-dinner meeting with your aunt, Elder Alaetha.”
Becka didn’t look forward to the meeting with Alaetha, fearing how Vott’s sister would view the niece who’d accidentally poisoned her own father.
“It’s the new schedule she promised,” Becka replied. “I almost wish the poison had worked.”
Luce waved it in the air towards her, a wisp of a smile on her lips.
“Can you leave it on the sofa table?” Becka replied. “I’m crashing. Please inform whoever swaps out with you to let me sleep in.” Not even bothering to change her clothes, Becka flopped down onto her bed, exhausted.
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