Page 40 of The Black Witch

It hurts that she would threaten me—like a sharp slap. “I’m not saying I won’t consider it,” I counter, thrown. “I just can’t fast to him so quickly. I’d like to get to know him a little first.”

If Uncle Edwin was here, he’d take my side.

“Honestly, Elloren,” she says coldly, “you are making thisverydifficult for me.”

My anger flares. “Then maybe it’s lucky for you that you’re not my official guardian.”

Silence. The Urisk girl freezes, her eyes gone wide with shock.

Aunt Vyvian’s gaze narrows. “My brother doesn’t always have the firmest grasp on reality, my dear. I wouldneverhave allowed him to take you in if I had known...” She breaks off, her eyes angrily brimming with some unspoken thought.

“Knownwhat?” I press, stung by her easy dismissal of my uncle.

She leans forward, teeth bared. “That you would grow up to turn down a fasting proposal that every girl in Gardneria would give her eyeteeth for!”

Her expression turns venomous and I shrink back, shocked by the frightening change in her demeanor.

My aunt quickly collects herself, regaining her careful sheen of control, like thick curtains being drawn around her true feelings.

“I shall simply have to find a way to help you change your mind,” she states, her voice once again tranquil. She lightly taps her teacup.

The Urisk girl springs forward to fill it, as if her life depends on it.

My aunt takes her time, mixing some cream into her tea. “I have found thateveryonecan be persuaded to do the right thing if the right kind of pressure is applied.”

I stare at her with a new wariness, watching as she lifts the porcelain cup with long, graceful fingers.

“Everyone has a breaking point, Elloren.Everyone.” She regards me levelly. “Don’tforce me to find yours.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Icarals

The next morning our ride to church is uncomfortably silent, our carriage surrounded by Aunt Vyvian’s personal guard. Dark clouds loom above Valgard and threaten a storm. I peer up at them, my cheek pressed against the cool glass of the carriage’s window, wishing I was with my brothers and Gareth.

Aunt Vyvian is studying me icily, perhaps considering how best to bend my will. She’s been trying to convince me to wandfast for every one of the fifteen days we’ve been together, and that pressure, after yesterday’s wandfasting offer, has now turned markedly oppressive. She’s keeping me with her until the last possible moment, desperate to have me buckle and wandfast to Lukas Grey before going off to University.

We’re to arrive at Valgard’s Grand Cathedral hours before morning service so that Aunt Vyvian can discuss some government business with Priest Vogel. Then she’s insisting I attend service with her—where, I suspect, we’ll conveniently run into Lukas and his family. I flush uncomfortably at the thought of seeing him again.

Later, after the service, I’m to make the carriage journey to University alone. Rafe, Trystan and Gareth are long gone, having left together early this morning on horseback.

I long to be with them. I don’t want to be in these fancy, restrictive clothes that necessitate slower carriage travel anymore. And I long to break free of Aunt Vyvian’s unforgiving watch. I want to be on horseback with my brothers and Gareth, riding to Verpacia and the bustling University.

Soon, I remind myself.You’ll be out of here soon enough.

The dark forest of buildings ahead gives way to an expansive, circular plaza, a larger-than-life marble statue of my grandmother dominating its middle. I focus right in on it, wondering if I’ll be able to make out my own features in the marble face, but it’s too far away.

Approaching the plaza, we make a sharp turn to the right, and I almost gasp as Valgard’s Cathedral bursts into view, even grander than I remembered it.

* * *

Broad, sweeping columns rise skyward, eventually coalescing to form one, narrowing spire that supports a silver Erthia sphere at its zenith. The whole structure is wrought from Ironwood the color of wet earth. A mammoth central arch with two smaller, adjacent arches frames the entrance, the huge front doors richly carved with images fromThe Book of the Ancients.

The carriage halts just in front of the cathedral, and I almost trip down its steps as I disembark, my gaze riveted on the immense, vertigo-inducing structure. I crane my neck to take it all in, the silver sphere highlighted by the darkening sky.

My aunt ushers me into the cathedral and toward one of the countless, intricately carved pews.

“Sit here,” she directs sternly.

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