~1~
“Did you know about this?” Selly shouted, striding into the House Phel library without knocking—the doors hadn’t been warded or magically locked—and shocking her brother by smacking the letter onto his desk.
“And good morning to you, too, Seliah,” Nic said drily, sitting back from whatever she’d been working on and looking her over. As Lady Phel, Nic had a desk near her husband’s. They almost always—unless one of them was unconscious or had been abducted, which was admittedly a fair chunk of their marriage so far—convened in the library after breakfast to handle house business together. They’d been easy to find.
“Hi, Nic,” Selly said, searching her heart for some polite chagrin. Nope, none to be found. She was too pissed. “Apologies for the intrusion,” she said anyway.
“You’re family, not an intrusion,” Nic replied easily, her brilliant emerald gaze going to Gabriel consideringly as he read the letter, measuring her wizard, no doubt, with her acutely attuned familiar’s senses.
Selly didn’t need any magical help assessing Gabriel’s emotional state. Not that she had any clue how to be a familiar of Nic’s education and caliber. She did know her brother, though. The flush on his dusky skin revealed his embarrassment at the contents of the note she’d slapped on his desk, while his snapping wizard-black eyes showed growing annoyance. “What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded in turn.
With an exasperated sigh, Selly snatched the fine paper from his loose grasp. “Here, let me help you.” For Nic’s benefit, she read aloud Jadren’s crisply inked, meticulous handwriting. Even while ruthlessly jilting her, he hadn’t betrayed the slightest emotional tremor in a single stroke of his pen. “No, I didn’t fuck you senseless. That was the potion I put in your wine. I said as soon as you’re safe, I’d take you to bed. You’ll never be safe while you’re with me, so… I’m gone. Don’t bother looking as I won’t be found. Don’t shed any girlish tears over me. Just go on with your life. It’s the best revenge and you deserve that much. ~J”
She flung down the sheet of paper again and Nic rose, gracefully retrieving it to read herself with pursed lips while Selly glared at Gabriel. “I ask you again—did you know about this?”
“Which part?” he snapped back, rising from his chair and steepling his fingers on the desk, looming over her. Selly was tall, but her brother was taller. Plus his potent wizard-magic intimidated her now far more than she liked. Spending time with Jadren—also a wizard—had increased her sensitivity to magic, especially since he’d bonded her as his familiar. Gabriel’s felt like a gathering storm, prickling her with the animal urge to take shelter. She overrode it and stood firm.
“The part where,” Gabriel continued on a low growl, “Jadren—I assume that’s the ‘J’ of this missive—references fucking my baby sister senseless? Or the part where he confesses to drugging you? Or…” His voice rose to a near shout. “Or the part where—”
“Gabriel!” Nic said sharply.
He whirled on her, magic crackling silver in the air, a boom of thunder echoing in the distance. Selly had never been afraid of her gentle big brother, not even when the magic had come upon him so suddenly, turning his hair white and his eyes blacker than blackest night. But then, she also hadn’t been in her right mind for most of that time. Since her adventures with Jadren, particularly due to the time she’d spent captive with him in House Sammael and House El-Adrel, she’d developed a healthy respect for the immense power wizards wielded. And Gabriel was more powerful than most.
Possibly Selly shouldn’t have allowed her temper to goad her into confronting Gabriel with Jadren’s goodbye note.
“You need to keep your calm,” Nic was saying to Gabriel, approaching him as one might a frightened horse, if that horse was a battle-trained stallion as like to bite your face off as anything else. Completely unafraid and unflustered—how Selly admired Nic’s unflappable poise—Nic laid a palm on Gabriel’s chest, a slim figure compared to his broad-shouldered one. “Pull the magic back, Wizard,” she murmured.
He laid a hand over hers, several expressions chasing across his face before it settled into a heated and tender affection. The sense of danger and lethal silver in the air receded, and Selly found herself envying that, too. Even if—no, when—she managed to chase Jadren down, he’d never look at her that way, never treat her as more than his familiar and a necessary burden. She was realist enough to accept that about him. Jadren had his heart locked behind layers of clockwork metal. Having witnessed his vile mother and how he’d grown up, Selly didn’t blame him.
Probably she should just let him go, but she’d never been one to back down from a fight. Including this one.
“The part I mean, Lord Phel,” Selly said in a sharp tone, cutting into the moment between her brother and sister-in-law, and earning a black glance of renewed ire from Gabriel, “is did you know your minion Jadren planned to leave? Perhaps you gave him permission.” Jadren might flaunt many rules, but even he would hesitate before violating a contractual obligation. As a minion of House Phel, Jadren wouldn’t have departed without the senior wizard’s knowledge and permission. Probably. Selly could hope her brother hadn’t colluded in breaking her heart.
Gabriel paused, not meeting her challenging glare, confirming her supposition. The way Nic looked between Gabriel and Selly, an expression of dawning comprehension on her face, gave the answer to another of Selly’s questions. Yes, Gabriel had known, but Nic hadn’t. Obscurely, that made Selly feel better. She hadn’t liked thinking that Nic had conspired to ruin Selly’s life this way. Of all people in House Phel, Nic would know the pain of being a familiar whose wizard was moving ever farther away, the wizard–familiar bond growing attenuated, like a strained tendon threatening to snap with every tiny increase in tension.
Gabriel withdrew from Nic’s light embrace and sat heavily at his desk, finally meeting Selly’s gaze. Hands folded, back straight, wizard-black gaze firmly neutral, Gabriel was all Lord Phel in that moment. Selly rather hated him for it.
“Yes, I knew,” he said. “I gave Jadren permission to depart.”
Though this wasn’t exactly a surprise, the acknowledgment hit her hard and painfully. “And you didn’t tell me.” Her voice came out a strained whisper.
“Nic, love, would you leave us?” Gabriel asked without looking at his wife.
“No, I want Nic here, as witness to what you’ve done to me.”
Gabriel looked mildly taken aback at Selly’s demand, or perhaps at her phrasing. Nic, who’d gathered her skirts to obey her wizard, instead returned to sit on her desk, slippered feet swinging. Gabriel frowned at her and she beamed back with faux innocence. “You can make it an order,” she suggested sweetly, “but failing that, I’ll abide by Seliah’s request. I am, after all, the one ally she has who understands the implications of this for her.”
“I wasn’t aware we were forming camps,” he replied in a low tone.
“Wizards and familiars are, by their very nature and by centuries of Convocation politics, on opposite sides of the table,” Nic said without rancor.
“I thought you agreed we’re partners,” he retorted, unfolding his hands to tap his fingers restlessly on the desk.
“We are. It’s possible to be both. Now, Gabriel, my only love, let’s discuss Seliah’s relationship with her wizard instead of mine.”
“This conversation isn’t over,” he warned her.
“It never is,” she agreed, sounding ruefully amused. “Back to the subject at hand, I believe Seliah asked you why you didn’t warn her of Jadren’s plans to desert her.”