Page 23 of Avaritia

“Of course,” he said quickly, moving faster than I’d seen him move in years.

I suspected that both Wilder and Aderith preferred when Rainy wasn’t here, though they’d never said as much. They had been assigned to me by my father when I was born, and caring for Rainy had never been part of their remit, but they’d done it anyway, even when she’d been at her most difficult.

I’d been too lenient on her all these years, allowing her ego to grow far beyond anyone’s control. While I wanted to protect my sister from anything that might cause her discomfort, I suspected that only being truly humbled would improve her attitude at this point.

Satisfied that Rainy was dealt with to the best of my abilities for now, I pulled the heavy blanket off my latest experiment, exposing the system of empty glass orbs connected by thin silver wire. I’d had to give up working on it while my own power levels were so low, but my skin was vibrating with excess energy now.

I added a small amount of ignition powder to each of the orbs before screwing them tightly together so they would glow when combined with my energy. Usually, they were fed shadows manually and topped up as needed; though that was infrequent, they could glow for weeks.

I’d deliberately used less powder than I would for a regular orb, as I didn’t want these for illumination purposes necessarily. I wanted them for messaging purposes. If I could get the timing down to a precise art, as well as ensure the connection between the orbs was perfect, then this would be the basis of my safety system for Shades. I would create paths throughout the in-between, and scouts could go ahead to the human realm, checking there were no Hunters in sight before lighting this beacon to alert those waiting to feed back home that the location was safe.

It would be faster and more responsive than the scouts merely relaying information by walking back and forth—a sometimes time-consuming journey. And if an area became compromised, the orbs could be extinguished to prevent others from beginning their trip.

Unlike Allerick, some of us were actually doing something to solve our current crisis.

Aderith appeared with a plate of meat at some point, leaving it on a side table for me while I tinkered with the orbs, trialing different amounts of ignition and recording my results. Silver was a good conductor of our powers—our strength and our weakness—so I felt moderately confident in my ability to light them all in a chain reaction. Extinguishing them was the conundrum. And if I couldn’t instantly extinguish a pathway, this was all for naught. Safety would be compromised, and I would not allow that.

Frustrated that the solution hadn’t just appeared in my mind yet, I turned around to grab a piece of meat, only to find myself staring into the yellow eyes of Verity’s small beast, hunched over my plate. With a challenging glare, it snapped up a large piece between its dainty pointed teeth, staring at me as it backed away with my lunch in its mouth.

Why was it roaming around the manor as if it owned the place? Stealing my food?

“Halt, beast,” I ordered, glaring at it. It paused, glaring back at me while gnawing on my food. “I am the lord of this house.”

It was fast, I’d give it that, but I knew every nook and cranny of this workshop. With some cajoling, I had it backed into a corner where I instantly pounced, snatching it up into my arms, keeping its limbs trapped to its body so it couldn’t catch me with its sharp little claws. What an odd creature for Verity to want to keep as a companion.

“Come along, beast,” I said, stomping out of my workshop and up the stairs. I could already hear Verity’s loud voice carrying from the small, informal dining room where she was undoubtedly taking her meal, uninterrupted by this thieving little creature.

“Verity,” I said gruffly, closing the dining room door behind me and depositing the creature on her lap. “This was in my workshop, stealing my lunch.”

“Fester!” she scolded, though she was holding him close to her body, nuzzling the top of his small head with his chin. It hardly seemed like a punishment. “How did you even get out of my room, you little sneak?”

“Did I not already agree that he was free to roam?” I grumbled, though I had no idea why I was reminding her of the fact.

“He needs a couple of days in one room to settle in first,” Verity replied absently, stroking the purring creature in her lap. “Though he seems confident enough, doesn’t he? Fester used to live on the streets, it took me a while to coax him in and get him to trust me. He’s still got those street cat instincts.”

It seemed very apt that Verity had coaxed a feral animal off the streets to be her pet. She seemed to be sorely lacking in defensive instincts, though it had worked out well for me, so I wasn’t about to complain.

“I’ll get you another plate,” Aderith told me, straightening from where she’d been fussing over Verity’s tea. “Will you take your meal in here, Your Grace?”

I usually took my meals alone in my workshop, fully absorbed in my work. Perhaps establishing a tradition of taking our midday meal together in here would be sensible. It seemed wise that I keep an eye on this new mate of mine for deteriorations in her physical and emotional condition, or any sign that she was going to try and leave.

Yes, a daily meal together would be a good idea indeed.

“Yes, I will eat here. Verity and I will take our midday meal in here together each day.”

Verity raised an eyebrow as Aderith slipped out of the room. “Will we now?”

“We will.”

“How nice of you to ask me,” she snarked, not an ounce of deference to be found.

It didn’t bother me as much as it should.

Aderith appeared and quietly set down a fresh plate of meat for me, pouring some tea before letting herself out of the room. I watched as my mate held the teacup up to her chin, the steam wafting off the top doing something pleasing to her golden-brown skin. Making her look… glowy.

“So what’s all this about then?” she asked, setting Fester down. He immediately rubbed himself against her legs before roaming around the room, poking into corners and wriggling under the buffet. “Why the regular meals? Were you missing me?”

“Of course not.” I couldn’t quite hide my abject horror at the concept. I’d never missed anyone in my life.

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