Page 40 of Glow of the Everflame

“No, you’re not. Not even close.” He smiled wryly. “I can feel yours. It’s weaker than normal, but still stronger than any Descended I’ve ever met.”

I stilled at that revelation. “Can every Descended sense my magic?”

“No. Only the most powerful can sense each other. In Lumnos, there’s only a handful that might feel it. Even those who can won’t know it’s coming from you unless you get close.”

“I see.”

Luther paused, waiting for me to say more. I leaned back and sipped my tea.

His brows pulled inward. “My father issued a formal announcement of the King’s death. He feared waiting would look like we were hiding. I’d hoped to hold off longer, give you more time to settle in...”

I nodded. “I understand.”

“The funeral will be held in a few days. You’ll be expected to be there, but you won’t need to speak or greet anyone. Not until—”

“The ball. Aemonn told me.”

His lips pressed to a thin line. “Howhelpfulof him.”

“He asked to be my escort.”

Luther looked away, staring at some distant point. The muscles in his jaw twitched.

“I made a mistake,” I said quietly. “I revealed something I shouldn’t have.”

His eyes snapped back to me. He leaned his forearms on the table, hands clasped. “Tell me.”

I set down my cup and took a long, slow breath. “Aemonn was flirting, and I’d been drinking. I got flustered.” My eyes dropped. Even the numbness couldn’t keep this from being painfully awkward. “I told him the mortal man I’m seeing asked me to marry him.”

Luther sat deathly still.

“Is that... true?” he asked, with some effort.

“Yes.”

A heavy silence passed.

“Have you given him an answer?”

I winced. “Not yet.”

My eyes closed as I braced for his response. For a long time, there was only an excruciating quiet. Then I heard his sigh, and the creak of jostling leather as he shifted in his chair. Then more silence.

Gods, this was worse than a lecture.

He drew in a breath, and I tensed.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll handle Aemonn.”

I looked up to see a face empty of judgment or reproach. Instead, his expression was... gentle. Understanding.

And perhaps a little sad.

“My charming cousin has a strange talent for ferreting out information others would rather keep hidden. It’s happened to everyone in the family at some point. Consider it a House Corbois rite of passage.”

I blinked. Old habits had me wondering at Luther’s motives, but my suspicion quickly dissolved into apathy. Whatever the reason, it felt nice to have a conversation with him that didn’t seem doomed to end in bloodshed.

“Is there any chance Aemonn also has a strange talent for keeping information to himself?” I asked.

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