Page 53 of Reluctant Wizard

Beyond that, the only advice I can give a familiar for surviving the Betrothal Trials is: endure. The experience is in no way romantic. It’s not easy. I’m going to say I wouldn’t advise it? Yes, it turned out well for me, but only through happenstance—and the fortunate appearance of a certain obdurate wizard. That was a lucky lightning strike that no one should or can rely upon.

Before Gabriel arrived… well, it was awful. I kept that to myself, to spare Maman, though I think she knew more than I realized at the time. The thing is, you think that you’re complying because you agree to the trials. I asked for it! To please Papa, which was misguided in retrospect, obviously, but also because I viewed the trials as my sole avenue to have some influence over who my wizard would be. The ability to use my right of summary dismissal to eliminate suitors I didn’t want gave me the illusion of control, but I relinquished a far more critical level of choice in doing so. I didn’t think it would matter to me so much, letting those men have me, attempt to impregnate me, but… it did. It hurt me inside in ways I can’t describe.

Alise choked back a little dry sob at Nic’s confession, especially poignant from someone who so rarely spoke of her feelings. Or acknowledged them, really. Alise supposed they’d both been relentlessly trained by their father to pretend they didn’t have emotions. The intimacy of this reveal was the reason Nic had sent the message so securely. Alise marveled that the so very proud Nic had written this down at all.

My point is, please tell your “friend”—assuming there truly is one—that the Betrothal Trials are more damaging than liberating. Like so many of the rules and traditions surrounding familiars, the trials pretend to give us choice while operating to further destroy our free will. Had I been sequestered in that tower much longer, had Gabriel not come along to change my entire world, I’d have succumbed to both despair and the overwhelming need to escape that monthly and harrowing night with my suitors. I would have agreed to anything, to anyone, to any level of treatment to escape the extended torture of boredom punctuated by rape.

Because that’s what it is, no matter how they dress it up as informed consent.

But now I fear I’ve written too much. I didn’t intend to become so impassioned on the topic. Now I’ll need some arcanium time with Gabriel to purge the emotions this stirred up. Hopefully that doesn’t shock you.

Alise hadn’t been shocked until Nic added that line—and she still wasn’t because she didn’t really understand. Like the arcaniums of all wizards, the House Phel arcanium stored magic that Gabriel and Nic generated together, serving as a dedicated reservoir for Gabriel to employ for more complex feats of wizardry requiring greater amounts of magic, like fending off an assault by their enemies. She didn’t know what Nic meant, exactly, but it was clearly sexual and perhaps more than that in some way? Regardless, she didn’t need to know.

The long and short of it (more long than short!) is that the Betrothal Trials are not something I’d recommend to anyone. Tell your “friend” to use that as a last resort. It’s no way to begin a life together. Tell them to take any other available path. That’s my very best advice.

Enough on that. I hope you’re doing well. Your missive was chary on details or any real information. If you’re concealing troubles, well… Know that you don’t have to stay there. I realized I pushed you into returning to the academy, so you could graduate and to cauterize certain conversations, and there were good reasons for that, but not at the expense of your health and happiness, not at the expense of you. Gabriel will set the courier to await your reply, which will also be sealed and private.

If you say for us to come get you, we will. No questions asked. Our mutually loathed progenitor has been making noises I don’t like. I have a bad feeling, so please tell me if there is anything to be concerned about there with you. Gabriel says that the pregnancy is affecting me emotionally, possibly because I nearly stabbed him with a fork when he wondered out loud if I shouldn’t have gone into labor already, even though Asa says everything is fine and we have a visiting wizard from House Gaia here now to take over as a maternity specialist, who also says everything is fine. I am heartily sick of lugging around a belly ten times the size of my own head. Another strike against the Betrothal Trials! Even if you “succeed,” you’re having a baby at the same time you’re trying to sort your own life and…

And I just made this about me and it’s not. I’m fine. The baby is fine. Gabriel will be fine if he figures out how to keep his stupid mouth shut. *sigh* Anyway, what’s the point of being Lady Phel if I can’t throw around my (now quite considerable) weight?

Just tell me true: should we come get you?

All my love, reply right away or I’ll explode (maybe literally)

Your sister

Alise read the letter over again, savoring every word, especially Nic’s offer to come and get her. If this note had come only two days before, she’d have been beyond tempted to send back a scream for help, for rescue, despite her resolve to see it through to graduation.

Now… She didn’t want to go. She actually wanted to meet Professor Seraphiel for another exhausting lesson in the morning. She’d promised Professor Cixin that she’d practice some new exercises and, instead of feeling crushed by the tasks looming over her, she found she’d been looking forward to the challenge.

Maybe, just maybe, she could figure out more about the bond severing and why it had gone wrong. That prospect gave her a surprising sense of relief and freedom, like clear water washing away the mud of regret and dread. Maman would never have wanted her to be feeling this way. Her mother suddenly came alive again in Alise’s mind, not as she’d been during the course, and at the end, of that horrible, long, agonizing decline, but as she’d been before. Full of elegance and pride, no matter what she faced. Maman would never have approved of Alise wallowing in grief and guilt.

If you think you accidentally killed me working your wizardry, Maman’s voice rang crisp and clear in Alise’s mind, then it’s incumbent on you to learn to do better. Guilt never got anyone anywhere but depressed and ineffective. I expect more of my brilliant daughter.

Alise smiled, albeit sadly, Nic’s words on the page blurring together with Maman’s voice in her head, a deep, abiding affection for them both filling her. She wasn’t alone and never had been.

“What do you have there, Wizard Alise?” Brinda Chur bounced onto the window cushion, peering at the Ratsiel courier tenaciously clinging to Alise’s knee, and perhaps trying to get a glimpse of the letter Alise immediately folded out of sight as she quickly invoked a silencing shield around them. The familiar grinned cheekily. “A letter from House Phel? I knew you’d be able to help me. What did Lady Phel say?” Brinda rubbed her hands together in anticipatory glee. “I’m so ready for her sage advice.”

Alise gazed back at Brinda in some dismay, unwilling to tarnish this bright enthusiasm with Nic’s dark cautions. Except that the experience of the Betrothal Trials would do far worse to the earnest, sweet-natured girl. Fortunately, Brinda mistook Alise’s hesitation, flushing and clapping a hand over her mouth.

“What am I doing? I apologize for my atrocious manners. Here.” She held out a hand. “Take as much magic as you like. With yesterday being Rest Day, I have a lot. I saved it for you,” she added, almost shyly. “Because I appreciate you helping me, so much.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary,” Alise protested, not firmly at all.

“Nonsense. This is our bargain and I can see you’re low again. Drink up!”

Not particularly loving the vampiric analogy for taking a familiar’s magic, Alise reminded herself not to be unrealistic about this nature of their transaction. Brinda Chur certainly wasn’t. Alise transferred enough to refill her reserves and then some, which thankfully left Brinda not at all drained.

“Thank you,” she said, offering a warm smile. “Your magic is truly as bright as you promised.”

“House Chur is the best!” Brinda crowed, happily. She pointed at the missive, the House Phel crest of a moon over water evident. “Now gimme.” Brinda mitigated the impertinent demand with a wriggle and flutter of lashes.

Internally, Alise groaned. “I asked my sister…”

“Yes, and? And?”

Nothing for it but to be honest. “I didn’t say who’d asked me, but she told me to tell my friend not to do the Betrothal Trials if she, that is, you could possibly avoid it.”

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