Page 72 of The Black Witch

“Not really.”

Well, that’s unexpected.“Does your family know that?” I ask, amazed.

“No.”

His candor surprises me. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I don’t know, Elloren,” he says shortly, seeming exasperated with himself. “I feel a compulsion to be honest with you. I really don’t know why.” He looks away and leans back against the bench, staring off into the distance, wrestling with some private thought. After a time he turns back to me, a look of resignation on his face.

I knit my brow at him. “If you were here all this time, why didn’t you come find me after the wandtesting?” I’m unable to keep a hint of blame out of my tone. “If you’d been with me...”

“I’ve only just returned,” Lukas says, seeming amused by my discomfiture. He leans in close. “Someonecaused a minor diplomatic crisis. The Elfhollen were not amused by my initial refusal to leave you.” His tone takes on a cutting edge. “Neither was my father. There was some talk of imprisonment.”

“Oh,” I say, feeling contrite. I notice he’s in a different military tunic, the silver Level Five bands on his sleeve thinner and close together. “Your uniform. It’s different.” I trace my finger along one of the silver bands, immediately aware of the intimacy of the gesture. Mortified, I jerk my hand away.

When I venture a look up at him, his smile is slow and seductive, his eyes intent on mine. He raises his wrist slightly, glancing down at the edging. “I’ve been temporarily demoted, for the usual reason,” he says, his voice like velvet.

I gulp. “What’s that?”

His smile darkens. “Insubordination.” He traces his finger lightly over the back of my hand. “And as further punishment,” he goes on, “I’m being forced to spend two months here training Gardneria’s most talentless soldier apprentices.”

“Sorry,” I mumble, distracted by the slow, sultry way he’s playing with my hand.

Lukas lets out a short laugh, sits back and eyes me with amused speculation.

I take a deep breath. “So you think Wynter is harmless,” I finally say.

“Completely. She’s an artist. Spends all her time drawing, sculpting, writing poetry. Hardly ever speaks. Seems afraid of her own shadow. Ariel Haven, on the other hand...”

“The demonic one,” I finish for him.

He laughs, but I fail to see the humor in it.

“She’s a real nuisance,” he continues. “Should have been sent back to the Valgard Sanitorium a long time ago.”

“Back?”I cut in, horrified.

“She spent most of her childhood there.”

“Oh, Ancient One...”

“She was almost expelled last year. Seems she has a penchant for setting fire to things. And to people who annoy her.”

I can feel myself blanching.

“Relax, Elloren. No one’s going to set you on fire.”

I gawk at him, stupefied. “How can you say that? I spent most of last night cowering in a closet while Ariel etched profanities and threats into the door.”

“And that wasyourchoice. You let her have the upper hand. Ariel is about as weak and harmless as Wynter is. She just makes a big show of being threatening. And you completely fell for it.”

“She had aknife!”

“Here,” he says, pulling his sword out and handing it to me. “Now you have a bigger one.”

I push the sword back at him. “I don’t have any idea how to use it.”

He places his sword back in its sheath with one graceful movement. “You probably have about as much skill with my sword as Ariel does with a knife.”

---