by Jasmine Walt
Satisfied, the receptionist gave us instructions to get to the archives, then picked up the phone to call ahead and let them know we would be coming.
The archive clerk was a short, balding man with round spectacles. When he opened the door to admit us, he was vibrating with excitement. “Miss Marton herself, back from the dead!” he exclaimed as he ushered us in. “I remember your story—it was quite the scandal, although quickly hushed up. I’m so glad to see that you did not perish in the waters after all.”
“Thank you.” I beamed—it was good to see that at least one person was genuinely happy I was alive. “Can you help me find the editions that referred to my disappearance? I imagine there were more than one.”
“It’s no trouble at all.”
The clerk led us down one of the many corridors of shelves, toward the back of the room. Lining the shelves were huge bound folders filled with slightly yellowing newspaper pages. He selected three of them. They were heavy, but I lifted one easily enough as Fenris and the clerk each took another—all the years I’d spent as a veterinarian, delivering calves and foals, had made me stronger than the average female mage. We carried the folders over to a large table, and the clerk helped us riffle through them and pick out the editions in question.
He looked inclined to hover and chat, but Fenris thanked him. When he pressed a coin into his hand as a tip, the clerk got the message. He disappeared back into the maze of shelves, leaving us to study the papers in peace.
I picked up the earliest edition, published two days after I’d fled, feeling a pang as I studied the title: “Young Heiress Goes Missing—Presumed Drowned.” Below was a picture of me, my face still round and soft with youth, and my gut twisted. I was smiling at the camera, a carefree innocence in my eyes as I posed in a chair wearing a fancy dress. My grandmother had that portrait of me taken just a year before she’d passed away—I must have been thirteen.
“Interesting,” Fenris said as he read the article over my shoulder. “It appears your aunt actually offered a cash reward for any information about your whereabouts.”
I pursed my lips. “That might have just been for show,” I said. “I don’t suppose she truly cared.” But a sliver of doubt niggled at me—perhaps my aunt and uncle truly hadn’t known? Reading on, I discovered that Vanley was the one who had witnessed my “midnight swim.” He’d claimed to have seen me walking out to the water in the middle of the night from his bedroom, wearing my swimsuit. My lip curled in disdain—if he’d truly caught me running about half-naked, he hardly would have been content to stay in his room. A chill raced through me at the thought of his hands on me again, and I pushed the memory aside.
We perused the later issues, hoping for more information, but there was not much—these articles were much smaller, barely taking up a corner, and only mentioned that I still had not been found. It reiterated the cash reward on offer for any information. The last one had been published only a month later, and there were no more after that. I tried not to let that get to me, but my jaw clenched—barely four weeks and they’d written me off.
Since there was nothing more to be discovered, we returned the folders to the archives and thanked the clerk for his help. Just as we were about to leave, the door burst open, and a red-haired, freckled-faced young man rushed in.
“Miss Marton?” he asked eagerly, his face bright with excitement. He wore a perfectly pressed suit and tie, and his shoes were so shiny I thought I might blind myself if I looked at them too long. “I’m Hulam Rice, a journalist here. I’d love to interview you if you have a moment.” He stuck out a hand.
“Remember, any publicity regarding your return might be helpful,” Fenris said in mindspeak as I hesitated. “Doing the interview probably won’t hurt.”
“All right.” I returned the handshake with a smile. “I would be happy to do an interview,” I said to the reporter. “So long as it is a brief one. I have a busy day ahead of me.”
“I completely understand,” he assured me. “This will only take a few minutes.”
The reporter pulled out his notepad and pen, and Fenris silently melted into the background as we began. Mr. Rice asked all the questions I expected—why had I run away from home? Where had I gone? How had I managed to maintain myself at such a youthful age? Why had I decided to come back now? How did it feel to return to Haralis after being gone so long? I answered the questions as calmly as I could, but under Fenris’s coaching, allowed myself to get a little emotional when telling the reporter about the reasons for my escape. The reporter’s sympathetic expression told me I was on the right track—I didn’t want to play the victim, but I did want the public on my side. Some would think I was simply a gold digger trying to take advantage of a tragedy, and I needed to forestall such impressions as much as possible.
“What are you going to do once you’ve claimed your inheritance?” Mr. Rice demanded, scribbling on his notepad. “Are you planning on permanently moving back to Haralis?”
I shrugged. “I can’t say yet,” I told him. “I’ve done much traveling these past years, and there are many lovely spots where I might settle. But over the next few days, I will reacquaint myself with Haralis, and perhaps the city and its people will entice me to remain.” I gave him a flirtatious smile.
The reporter smiled. “Not to belittle your experience, but it must have been quite freeing, in a way, getting to travel so extensively at an early age.”
“It was,” I admitted. “To be fair, it wasn’t easy to accustom myself to a life of labor after a privileged childhood, but ultimately it may have been good for me. And, of course, life is very different on the Central Continent, and I am happy I got to visit other countries.”
“It has been a long time since I’ve traveled,” the journalist said enviously. “I had hoped to be sent to Solantha to cover Chief Mage Iannis ar’Sannin’s wedding—it’s the talk of the Federation since he is marrying a shifter hybrid. But alas, someone else gets to go.”
My eyebrows winged up. “A Chief Mage, marrying a shifter?”
“Not just a shifter,” Mr. Rice said. “She’s also half-mage and his apprentice. I’m honestly surprised you haven’t heard about this,” he added, looking incredulous.
“Well, as I said, I’ve been living abroad. I haven’t paid too much attention to Federation politics or social gossip.”
“Ah, right.” The reporter changed the subject. “Are your aunt and uncle aware of your return? They appear in the Haralis society magazines every so often. I’m certain our own social editor will want to reach out to you for an interview as well.”
“I haven’t spoken to them yet, but I have visited my family lawyer. He will have no doubt informed them. The Finance Secretary is also looking into the matter. I am confident the case will be settled soon,” I added with a smile.
The reporter wrapped up the interview, then asked if I would allow a staff photographer to take a picture, which I declined. I didn’t want my face appearing in the news, in case it somehow got back to the Watawis Mages Guild, or to someone I’d gone to veterinary school with. Fenris and I bid the reporter goodbye, then headed out to stroll the city a bit more.
“You did well in the interview,” Fenris told me as we walked. “Charming, and very easy to empathize with. Hopefully, it’s the way the reporter will paint you when he publishes the interview.”
“That would be preferable,” I agreed. It would make it harder for Miss Dorax and my family to deny my claim…but even so, an uneasy feeling roiled in my gut. As we were leaving, the reporter had said he was going to contact my aunt and uncle to get their side of the story. Would his opinion of me change once he spoke to them? What would they even say?
“There’s no point in brooding about it,” Fenris said, correctly reading my mood. “We may as well enjoy the day. What do you say we get some ice cream?” He pointed to a building across the street.
My eyes widened as I looked where he was pointing. “That’s the same parlor my parents took me to as
a child!” I exclaimed. Nostalgia filled me as we approached the cheery red and white building. Suddenly I had a hankering for their blueberry-swirl ice cream.
Fenris chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.”
We ordered two cones to go, then strolled back to the hotel, discussing our plans in mindspeak along the way. “You will need to inform your aunt and uncle of your return,” Fenris said as he licked his mint chocolate chip ice cream. People looked strangely at the old mage with the green ice cream dribbling into his beard, but he seemed oblivious to their reactions. “It will not do for them to find out through the local newspaper or your lawyer. We only just met with him this morning, so it’s likely he hasn’t told them yet.”
I nodded. “I can’t say I’m looking forward to it, but it must be done. I’ll send them a letter by messenger when we get back to the hotel to announce my return and where I am staying.” That way, I would not have to confront them directly with the shock—they would be somewhat prepared by the time we met.
Or at least as prepared as one can be when someone comes back from the dead.
15
Mina
After sending off a brief, matter-of-fact message to my relatives and enjoying a light lunch at the hotel restaurant, I decided to indulge in a bit of shopping. My two new outfits really weren’t enough if I was going to stay in Haralis for any length of time—it would be unseemly for a wealthy woman to be seen in the same suits over and over again, especially when visiting the Mages Guild.
Besides, I wanted to make an impression on my aunt and uncle, and especially my cousin Vanley, when I finally came face-to-face with them. I wanted them to see that I was a grown woman, fully independent and capable of making my own decisions, and that they no longer had any control over me. Wearing well-cut, pretty clothes was empowering in its own way—rather like donning armor. And I planned to arm myself as well as I possibly could for this battle.
Fenris elected to skip out of the shopping spree in favor of visiting some specialty bookshops in the Mages Quarter, which was just as well. We would draw the wrong kind of attention if a much older man who was not my husband or my legal guardian was taking me about town and buying me fancy things. It was a shame Fenris had to continue keeping up that old-mage guise—in his natural form, his ruggedly masculine looks would draw plenty of admiring gazes from the ladies.
As I strolled amongst expensive boutiques I had been too young to shop in when I’d last lived in the city, I wondered what would be best suited to blow Fenris’s mind while still being respectable. Was that even possible, considering how worldly he was? That he could look at Miss Dorax with indifference proved he was not easy to impress—her dramatic coloring and air of self-confidence would be very attractive to most men.
And why does that matter? I asked myself. He’s attracted to you, isn’t he? Surely he’ll like whatever you wear, so long as he gets to peel it off you later.
My body warmed at the thought of Fenris undressing me, skimming his calloused hands over my bare skin with that careful reverence he always showed. He always acted as if he were unwrapping a long-awaited present, and it made me feel special, cherished.
Some hours later, I emerged from a fashionable shoe shop with a significantly lighter purse. I’d bought three pairs to go with the three dresses I’d just ordered from the tailor a few streets down, all of which would be delivered to the hotel later today. I’d purchased a number of accessories as well. I felt a little guilty about the expense but reminded myself I still had more gold at home. Besides, it had been a long time since I’d allowed myself a splurge. Once I got my fortune back, I would never have to worry about the cost of clothes or accessories again.
“Mina!” a male voice called, and I turned to see a young mage in blue robes hurrying up the street. There were two other mages with him—a pretty brunette girl in leaf green and a tall man in red.
“Maxin?” I asked as recognition dawned on me. I knew these three—they’d been my classmates long ago in the exclusive preparatory school for young mages I had attended. “By the Lady, look how grown up you are!” He’d filled out quite a bit, with broad shoulders and sharper features than the young teen I remembered.
Maxin laughed. “I can say the same about you! You were right, Troina,” he said, turning to the brunette. “It’s really her.”
“How could you doubt me?” Troina brushed past Maxin and enveloped me in a hug. I started in surprise, then hugged her back—I hadn’t quite expected such a warm reception. We had been friends, but that had been so long ago I thought she would have forgotten all about me. “I can’t believe you’re here!” she exclaimed, her dark eyes wide with amazement as she held me out at arm’s length to study me. “Everyone said you were dead!”
“So I hear.” I smiled wryly.
The three of them pulled me into a nearby coffee shop, where they demanded I spill the beans. Sipping a dark roast, I told them the same story I’d told the reporter—I’d fled that night to escape the abuse and neglect from my relatives, and had spent most of my time abroad until recently.
“I wondered why you’d been holed up in that house so long,” Troina said when I finished. “You poor thing—I wish you would have told me, but we were so young. I doubt I would have been able to help.” She sighed.
“There’s no need to feel guilty,” I assured her. “I’m dealing with it now, and that’s what matters. How have you been? I’ve obviously missed out on quite a bit by being gone all these years.”
Troina beamed. “This dashing young man and I are to be married next year,” she said, placing a hand on Maxin’s shoulder. “And our friend Baron here is going to be one of the groomsmen.” She pointed to her other companion. He was quiet, with dark hair and spectacles. I suspected that of their trio, he was the more reasonable, practical one.
“What that really means is I will be holding Maxin’s hair out of the way while he hurls his guts up at his bachelor party,” Baron said dryly, and the others laughed. “In fact, I might be doing that tonight, too.”
“Oh?” I raised a brow. “Are you going to a party?”
“Yes, and you should come with us!” Troina’s eyes sparkled. “It will be fun—everyone will be so shocked to see you’ve returned! You’ll be the talk of the evening, no doubt about it.”
I bit my lip. “I’m not certain I want to be the center of so much attention.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Troina waved a hand. “It’s not some big soiree—just a gathering with other mages our age from the city and environs. You won’t even need to bring an escort, though you are welcome to.”
“It has been a long time since I’ve last been to a party,” I admitted. One of the cocktail dresses I’d just purchased, a shimmering mint green, might be just right for the occasion.
“The address is not far from here,” Troina pressed. “Really, it’s a lot of fun. We all know each other. Many of the people who will be there tonight went to school with us. They will be delighted to see you.”
Giving in, I jotted down the address, then went back to the hotel, my mind still whirling from the unexpected encounter. My second day back in Haralis, and I was already going out to a party—with friends, no less! This was certainly not how I’d envisioned things going…and an apprehensive part of me wondered if I would enjoy the party. All the other mages there would be either finishing up or past their apprenticeships by now. Would I be able to fit in? Would I even want to?
If you are to reclaim your identity, it’s important for you to be on good terms with the other mages your age, I told myself. And besides, it wasn’t as if this were some grand ball. It was just a friendly gathering.
By the time I returned to the hotel, Fenris was already there—sitting by the window in his room, his feet kicked up on the table as he read from an old-looking text. “I see you’ve acquired some new reading material,” I said as I sat in the chair across from him.
Smiling, he removed his boots from the table and put the
book aside. “I’ve brought back several good finds, yes. How did your shopping go?”
“Well enough. I purchased some new outfits, which should arrive soon. And while I was out, I ran into some friends.”
“Friends?” Fenris’s eyebrows rose. “From your childhood?”
I nodded and told him about my encounter with Troina, Maxin, and Baron, and my decision to go to the party tonight. “Would you like to come?” I asked. “She said I was welcome to bring an escort.”
Fenris shook his head. “An old man like me would look out of place at such a gathering,” he said. “I’ll use the time to find out what Gelisia is up to.”
I frowned—in my excitement, I’d nearly forgotten about Miss Dorax. “Do be careful,” I said, rising from my chair to kiss him. “I would hate it if you ended up in hot water on my behalf.”
“I’ll do my best.” Fenris slid his arms around me for a proper kiss. I lingered in his embrace for a few moments, simply enjoying the feel of him, then went to my own room to shower and hopefully dress if my purchases arrived once I was finished. I had a party to get ready for, after all, and I was woefully out of practice with cosmetics.
16
Fenris
After Mina went off to her own room to primp for the party, I did a bit of tinkering with my own appearance. Slipping into the privacy of my bathroom, I cast an illusion spell. When I eventually emerged from the back entrance of the hotel, I wore the guise of a weedy, nondescript human male dressed casually in jeans and a gray t-shirt.
The palace was only a few blocks away, so I chose to walk, tucking my hands into my pockets. I was once again reminded of Solantha as I strolled about the beautiful city—the briny breeze blowing in off the coast and the artsy sections of town woven in between classic architecture were all reminiscent of Canalo’s capital city.
