Page 2 of The Gargoyle's Grace
“You don’t…”
Magnus stepped between us. “Settle, demon. She is not your enemy.”
I appreciated that he’d protect me, but if the archmage wanted to hurt me, I’d earned it.
“I would never hurt Grace,” Rylan tried to assure us both.
“Who’s done this to you?” Magnus grunted, pacing irritably. His fists clenched at his sides.
“I’m alright,” I insisted, though I desperately wanted some healing tea and a hot bath to soothe my aches away.
“You’re not. There’s blood on your dress, and these cuts on your face need tending to,” Rylan agreed.
“Shall I fetch your kit?” the fair man offered.
Rylan gave some instructions for where to find it, and he left swiftly, still managing to look regal even as he moved with purpose.
“Tell me what happened, Grace,” Rylan demanded, taking a seat next to me.
“I’ve failed you both,” I sobbed, unable to keep my desperate shame inside any longer.
“Come now. I very much doubt that, Grace. Start at the beginning.”
I gulped at the coffee in my mug, the whiskey in it burning away the last of the musty odor that clung to my nose. Then I did what he asked and told him as much as I could remember while he treated my wounds. I refused his magic—the scars I’d earned from the altercation were mine to bear. They’d be a reminder of how badly I’d fumbled one of the most important tasks I’d ever been given.
I had faith that Rylan would find his mate, and clung to that as part of my own salvation for such a mistake.
Just like I would find the men who’d done this to me, and make sure they paid for their part in things.
Chapter1
Grace
“I’ll be out for the evening,” I instructed Sara, my current kitchen helper. I gathered up the food I’d prepared to take with me to my parents’ apartment and stowed them in a large handled basket to carry with me. “Once the dishes are done, you’re excused.”
“Yes, Miss Grace.”
“Good girl.” I spun and Sara trailed behind me as I left the kitchen proper and went out into the dining room. I turned to her; the delicate little thing’s eyes wide as she trotted at my side. “And if the headmaster needs anything—”
“He can very well get it himself.”
“Archmage!” I stopped in my tracks, my boss smiling at me as he approached. “Did you need something before I go?”
He bowed his head in greeting, and Sara, even more wide-eyed than before, took him in. It didn’t help that his friend Magnus, a mountain of a man even larger than my employer, was a few steps behind him. I understood her nervousness, but they were both a soft touch. The archmage might appear large and intimidating but was the kindest boss one could hope to ever have. He was also a literal demon, but I’d learned firsthand since coming to this school that the most-feared creatures were often highly misunderstood. The same extended to Magnus who was one of the stone kin—a gargoyle, to be precise.
“You go on to your dinner, Grace. I can manage my way around the kitchen. Calla and I are just a bit peckish this evening, and you know howheis.” His kind amber eyes shifted from my face to the girl beside me as he gestured over his shoulder at Magnus. Rylan gave a playful wink, and Sara smiled, enjoying being in on the joke. “Besides, I’m sure Sara can help if there’s something I can’t find.”
“That’s quite rude,” Magnus grumbled, but he was smiling. “By now I’m sure Grace has skillfully managed to accommodate for my needs. She’s an expert, or so I’m told.”
“Too true,” I said, genuinely flattered by the compliment despite the fact thatI’dbeen the one to tell him that… repeatedly.
Magnus’s appetite was truly immense and had become quite the running joke. My irritation over having to adjust for his intake when he wasn’t consistent about being on the grounds to feed was, however, quite real. Mostly.
“In any case, I’m sure I can find what we need with Sara’s help, of course.”
The girl hastily nodded, clearly still slightly petrified by the idea of being solely responsible for their snacks. Usually, at least one of her three sisters would also be in the kitchen with us, but they’d been pulled away for other duties around the collegium.
I resisted the urge to reach up and touch the shiny ridges on my cheek. My shoulders had tensed at the mention of the archmage’s wife’s name, but I shifted to disguise it. “Very well. Sara?”
