"The building itself probably wasn't that expensive," Jack countered.
"The house, maybe. But fixing it up, with all those double-glazed windows and the plumbing, must have cost a fortune. The bathroom even has hot water! The boiler works with gas and switches on with magic; it's the latest thing in Ecton. It's expensive. We don't have that in most places."
Even in Jack's place, showering hours were limited to the evening and the morning, when the super turned on the boiler manually. In the dorms, the hours were so limited you had to fight to even get five minutes to wash up. Most of us had non-regulation burners to heat water and wash up with jugs. But here...
"That's nice," Jack said, admiring the bathroom. We came in, as I was talking about the plumbing. The tiled floor shone under the sunlight, making white dots dance in my eyes. "And that bath looks big enough to fit both of us."
"We should test that tonight," I said.
"You want me to stay tonight?" he asked, turning to face me and putting his hands on my hips.
"If you'd like to," I said. "Grandpa is old-fashioned, so I don't know if he'll agree, but he told me to stay in your house, so he should be fine with this. Although I never know with him; he can be so weird."
"I'd like to," Jack said, grabbing my hand. "So, how will we do this now?"
"You mean, our relationship now that I don't live with you?" I asked.
"Yes."
It had been so easy to stay with Jack, in that state of temporary bliss, without ever discussing the seriousness of our relationship. When the one-week deadline passed, I continued living with him, and he never said anything. We both knew I would move out, so it wasn't like we were living together. I was crashing in, and it was nice.
"Well, I guess we'll continue dating," I said. "I won't stay the night at your place anymore, now that I have a proper place; grandpa wouldn't approve. But you can come here sometimes. Maybe even bring some of your clothes. The cupboard in the bedroom will have plenty of space even after I put all my stuff in there, that's for sure."
"We haven't gone out on a date in a long time," Jack said, thoughtfully.
"What about last weekend?" I reminded him.
"We spent the entire weekend home," Jack said, "except for the visit to your grandpa. It was nice, but it wasn't a date."
"So, for you, it's only a date if we go out?" I asked. "That would mean my parents haven't dated in years. And they're fine, you know. Have been solidly married for twenty-five years."
"But we aren't married. We should go out somewhere, too."
I wasn't sure what Jack wanted. Things were good as they were, weren't they? And if it's not broken, don't fix it.
"Well, if you have ideas, I'm game," I replied. "But for today, I'm going to unpack. After lunch, we can go for a walk or whatever."
Jack smiled like he always did whenever I conceded. Which I did a lot more frequently now than I did three years ago. Changes had to go both ways.
"OK then," he said, kissing my forehead. "I'll go talk to your grandpa now, man to man."
"Why?" I asked his back, as he left, towards the East wing where grandpa and Billie were.
He didn't answer. I shrugged and started unpacking my meager belongings. In my dorm room, I had struggled to fit everything in the tiny dresser I had. Every time I took stuff out, the carefully stuffed clothes would go out. Organizing is much easier when you've got this much space. It was quite fun.
Dana's grandpa was sitting on a sofa, with the cat in his lap, murmuring things to her. They seemed to be deeply engrossed in a conversation. What a grown man would talk about with a cat was a mystery to Jack.
"Mister Bedwen?" he asked, standing in front of him.
The old man, who looked up, had noticed him when he came in. He could see it in the firm stare.
"Ah, Detective. I see you want to discuss something. Sit, don't make an old man look up," the professor said, nodding towards the armchair in front of him.
Jack sat, gathering his thoughts, into the armchair. It was comfy, adapting to his body, making him feel like he was floating in the water. Too relaxing for this conversation; he'd have preferred a chair. But standing up and taking a chair would mean a loss of face, and he had to stay vigilant with this old man.
"Yes, Mister Bedwen," Jack said. "I came to discuss my intentions toward your granddaughter."
The old man, who had been petting the cat, leaned in surprise. The cat, who didn't like the change, meowed in protest and left the room with its tail up, showing her disdain.
"Are you?" the professor asked, with a look of vague amusements.
"Yes. I'd like to convince you of the seriousness of my intentions, and to get your official permission to court her."
"You didn't need my permission before," the old man said. "And Miss Bedwen is her own woman; she wouldn't listen to me even if I said no."
"It's because I'll need to frequent your home now," Jack explained. "Dana is not sure whether you'd be fine with me staying with her occasionally."
"Ah, so that's what this is. You want my official permission to cavort with my granddaughter in my own home. That's gutsy of you," the old man was enjoying making the conversation as uncomfortable as possible.
"I would marry her," Jack said. "But she wouldn't, and I don't want to make her uncomfortable by proposing too soon. But I'd like you to know that my intentions towards her are serious, and eventually, we will become family."
"If you don't break up before that," the old man observed.
"I don't think that will happen," Jack responded.
"Have you told Dana about your intentions?" the old man asked. "Because she doesn't seem aware of it."
"She was the one who told me she wanted an official, traditional relationship," Jack replied. "And I agreed to that. I don't think she was thinking of marriage; she's way too busy to consider something like that, and will be for the next few years."
"Learning magic will make her much busier, that's for sure," the old man acknowledged. "Well, if you want my permission to stay here sometimes, you have it. But I don't want any sneaking around; if you stay the night, have breakfast with the rest of us."
Jack nodded, accepting the old man's condition.
"Now that we took care of that," the old man said, "there's another topic I'd like to discuss with you, concerning Dana."
"Another topic?" Jack said, alert in his armchair again. Seriously, that armchair would make you slip into slumber as soon as you stop paying attention.
"Dana probably told you about what happened at the tribunal, and what I told her about Major Craen."
"She did," Jack acknowledged.
"Well, I have to congratulate you, young man. I knew you were quite accomplished since most people don't make Detective before the age of thirty."
"It was a special promotion," Jack said, with a poker face.
"Indeed. A special promotion. Linked to classified cases investigating unlicensed magical artifacts," the old man said. "Stepping on the gendarmerie's toes, were you?"
Jack shrugged, without saying anything. The old man smiled.
"A case that must have made you deeply familiar with the inner workings of the Bureau of Magic. And make enough contacts there for the more informal favors you'd need to gain information." The old man talked, and Jack stayed silent, neither denying nor acknowledging the old man's accusations. "Which you used for my granddaughter. I must thank you for that, Detective."
"I didn't do it for you," Jack replied.
"I know," the old man said. "But I still appreciate it. That's why I approve of your relationship. Somebody in Dana's position is vulnerable. She has the potential to become a great mage, although she prefers to be an alchemist. The government has already shown an interest in her. You know that sometimes recruitment tactics used by our esteemed government are less than humane."
"Nobody forces anybody to enlist," Jack said. "These are not the times of the Inquisition."
"Indeed, they are not," the old man fro
m an Inquisition family acknowledged. "But it is a fact of life that the government needs strong mages for law enforcement, and money doesn't always work when recruiting mages. They can be prickly and independent. So sometimes they will create situations in which the best alternative is to join whichever branch of government is offered."
"That... does happen," Jack acknowledged.
"Which is why I'm glad that, when you had the chance, you chose Dana before the government. They would have buried her, and you gave her a chance. I didn't much like you before; a cop is always a cop. But you've showed that you will bend a few rules for her, which I appreciate. I know you wouldn't do it for something genuinely wrong, but I don't believe Dana would do something bad. Claire raised her well."
"She is a very kind person," Jack admitted. "And vulnerable, too, although she'd never admit it. She does not behave like dark arall, although she tries to keep to their values. But her ideas of how magical society works are quite bizarre. Which makes sense, since she was raised by a non-magical woman from a light family and a foreigner who wouldn't know how dark Kalmari magical society works."
"Indeed," the old man said. "Claire raised her like one of ours, despite her rejection of all the family values. And my son-in-law is also a highly unusual man. But it's time to socialize her to magical society. Now that she will interact with Major Craen regularly, she needs to meet other dark mages. Ones that can be a good example."
"I won't help you with that," Jack said. "I promised Dana no more games, and I intend to keep my promise. She is always straightforward with me, and I need to be honest with her, too. You two can engage in your twisted family mind games without me," and with those words, he got out of the armchair. You couldn't stay too comfortable next to the old man, anyway.
I'm not sure what Jack discussed with Grandpa, but when he came back, he had grandpa's permission to stay. Conversation over lunch wasn't too active that day. Billie went on rants about trains, I told him interesting stories about them, and grandpa and Jack didn't say much.
After we stood up, Jack offered me his hand, which I grabbed.
"Have you decided where you'd like to go?" I asked. It's not like Ashford had that many options, entertainment-wise.
"We could go shopping, before the shops close. Now that you have space, fill it."
I didn't have much money left after all the travel I'd been doing. Without a job, my finances were in quite a dire state. But that wasn't a conversation I wanted to have in front of grandpa, so I smiled and followed him outside, putting on my leather jacket and fedora at the entrance.
"It will have to be window shopping," I said. "Because I don't have any money."
"Really?" Jack asked.
"Yes," I replied, as we exited the door, and breathing the fresh outside air. There weren't any buildings around the ex-Inquisition College (should it be called Bedwen House now?); the surrounding park belonged to the College. Which I guess means they belong to grandpa, now?
"But your Grandpa's stinking rich," Jack said, pointing at the College. "He even bought a palace."
"A college," I corrected him. "And Grandpa's money is not my money. It wouldn't be right to use it for my personal needs."
"You've been eating his food, staying at his house, and imposing expenses on him, and you don't feel bad about it. But when you need a bit of money, you can't ask him?" Jack asked.
It's like he didn't understand who I am at all.
"Leeching off him and getting free food is one thing," I replied. "Asking him for money is another one."
Jack nodded, amused.
"So you're a principled woman, now. If you would not take his money, why did you get close to him? You told me it was for the money. None of that sentimental stuff."
"Well..." Jack had me. I told him I approached grandpa out of a desire to get his money. None of that filial duty or love stuff. But when it came to asking grandpa for money, I just couldn't. It wasn't right. "I will use his money to pay for Sam's education. Sam needs a good school; maybe even a boarding school. There aren't decent schools in Caerland for light mages. Now I don't need to save for that."
"So, you wanted his money so you could use it for your brothers' education? You know he's eager to do that, right? You don't need to butter him up or anything for that," Jack was teasing me, trying to get me to admit that greed wasn't the main factor for me.
"Well, now he is," I replied. "But he wasn't before. I had to make him believe me; I'm sure many scammers told him they're his long-lost family before. Single lonely men get that all the time."
"So what are you going to do, then?" Jack asked.
"What I was going to do when this whole mess started, of course," I replied. "Get a job."
41
Waking up in a new place is weird. Especially when the new place is a ginormous bedroom with a huge bed. It was still early; the few rays of sunshine visible below the thick black curtains were still colored in an orangish pink. I opened my eyes, still used to the dark, like a mole. I could see the faint edge of the bed in front of me, and I could feel Jack's breathing behind me. He was still asleep. Despite having a gigantic bed, we somehow ended up occupying only half of it. His arm was surrounding me, his hand still cupping my breast. I laid like that for a while, getting fully awake before I carefully disentangled myself out of his embrace and went towards the bathroom.
I had tested the hot water boiler the night before; it took a couple of minutes to get hot water running. So I opened the hot water tap, opening some of the curtains in the bathroom. I peeked out of the window. Nobody was outside, and nobody could see me. So I undressed, folding my camisole on the cabinet with the bathing salts.
I took a quick shower. I reserve baths for the evenings and more leisurely cases. Mornings are for work.
I had left a pile of clothes for today prepared, since I didn't want to wake up Jack. He was not an early bird like me.
I then quickly tiptoed through the bedroom, quietly closing the door behind me. Once I was in the living room, I put on the soft moccasins I usually used for training or for staying inside. They were comfy and warm, but their thin sole did not protect my feet against the harsh pebble-stones in Ashford roads.
I went down the stairs, and saw grandpa there, sitting on a bench in the corridor.
"Gramps? What are you doing here? Is it something urgent?" I asked.
"Don't worry. I just thought you should start training before breakfast. It will be an hour before everybody's dressed, and we could get good use of the time."
"I see you're an early riser, too," I observed, entering the training room. I hadn't intended to train so early, but I was feeling good and energized. What better time than now?
The meditation was as boring as always. I spent the time before breakfast breathing, concentrating my magic, this time, without pumping it out. I had gotten so used to it during the previous week, keeping it inside was harder.
"Why do I need to do this, anyway?" I asked grandpa, after throwing away another fireball I had created by accident.
"Because you need to be in full control of your magic. Concentrating it in the channels is the first step."
"You mean your magic is always concentrated?" I asked him.
"Yes. Once you spend enough time doing it, it becomes as easy as breathing, and very fast. But you need to practice more. You're already quite old to start learning magic. So there's a lot to catch up on," grandpa then said.
We continued, with me practicing, and grandpa sitting on the chair he brought in, reading a book while checking me occasionally. I was almost getting the hang of it, letting the energy flow through my body without escaping, when the door burst in, and I ended with a fireball in my hands.
Grandpa stood up, the book on the chair, his palms facing towards the exit. That's when we recognized the intruder. It was Major Craen.
"I'm so sorry, Master Bedwen," Bettie said, entering after him. "I tried to stop him, but he wouldn't listen to me."
"That's OK, B
ettie," grandpa said. "I'll deal with him."
The Major noticed the fireball in my hands. I threw it towards him. It's not that I expected to hurt an experienced battle mage with a barely formed ball of energy; but I had to get rid of it, and he was a suitable target. He stopped it with a flicker of his hands, observing it for a second before dissipating it.
"Not too bad, Miss Bedwen," he said. "At least you're strong."
"What are you doing here?" grandpa asked. "This is a private residence. You can't just come in without a warrant."
"You're giving classes to my apprentice," Major Craen said. "I'm here as her master, to observe."
"She is already under my observation," grandpa said.
"Well, you can continue," the Major said.
I looked at grandpa, who nodded. So I closed my eyes and continued the exercise.
"I see you're making her practice control," the Major told grandpa.
"Indeed," grandpa said. "Miss Bedwen needs to learn to control her magic first before she uses it."
"Typical light arall approach," the Major said. "We don't do it like this. As long as you're not burning things up, we move to practice magic. Control is learned while doing stuff."
Practicing magic sounds more fun than sitting in a room with my eyes closed. I'm not too surprised that, despite the identical nature of the basics, the approach differed. Light arall focus a lot more on empathy and delicate control. When you play mind games, it's very easy to burn somebody's mind forever. When you used fire and are trying to change the temperature of an entire room, however, precise control is much less important; strength and solid performance is.
"Well, you can teach her that after breakfast," grandpa said. "Have you eaten, Major?"
"Just had a cup of coffee," the Major replied.
"Would you like to join us for breakfast, then?" grandpa said, politely.
That's a big mistake. One thing dark arall love, even when they're rich and powerful, is free food. They'll keep coming to any place that offers free food and complain about the stale bread and stinky sausages.
The Apprentice's Path: The Alchemist #1 Page 30
