Page 33 of The Gargoyle's Gift
“It poses some challenges, as most relationships do,” she said, grinning at me, “but I am well satisfied with who the fates have chosen for me.”
“I see.”
“I did what I could to deny the bond existed when I first figured it out, for what little it was worth,” I stated, realizing too late my words might wound Lovette. “This wasn’t intentional.”
“The best and worst things in life never are.” Magnus’s mouth curled into a weak smile.
“He was prepared to go mad for me.” Lovette shrugged, as though that explained it all. I appreciated that she didn’t mention my offer to die for her. That seemed a bit much, all things considered, true or not.
Magnus looked between us several times, his posture relaxing further each time his eyes moved from her to me and back again. “I am happy for you, if you are glad of the match. Both of you. I can’t think of two people more deserving of the joy a true mate can bring.”
I scowled at him, trying to detect the deception I was sure was there under his kind words. Lovette, on the other hand, bounced up on her toes, pulling away from me to throw her arms around her father’s neck.
“I told him that’s how you would feel.”
Magnus stared at me over his daughter’s shoulder, no doubt taking stock of his unexpected new relation. “Many pairings are… unconventional. My own included. Who am I to argue with the fates?” he asked, though it sounded a little like he wanted to do just that. “Gaius, we need to have a discussion later—unrelated to this, of course.”
“What about?” I bristled.
“We seem to be lacking proper training staff at the outpost at the moment. Too many men retiring out and not enough with the skills to replace them. I thought perhaps, you might find a good fit there.”
My stomach clenched. “I don’t need a pity post, Magnus.”
He clucked his tongue at me, as though I were a confused youngling. “This is anything but, I assure you. The only men left manning the training academy sector of the military outpost here in Revalia are Woldrop and Prater.” I unintentionally made a face. “Precisely.” Magnus sighed.
“What about Rumford and Bogan? Jennor?”
“All retired, along with a handful of others from the ranks. It’s been quite a year.” Magnus sighed again, looking tired. How he kept everything organized like he did wore me out on his behalf. I’d been more than happy to stick to my little corner of the city, with my men and my responsibilities.
“Alright. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to listen.”
“Wonderful. I’ll catch up with you this evening then. Meetinghouse?”
“Yes, I’ll come meet you.”
“Father, before you go, how do you feel about Brom?” Lovette chirped.
Magnus frowned, thoughtful. “The leathersmith’s apprentice? I don’t know, seems nice enough. Wasn’t he in your brother’s class? Why?”
Imogen threw a glare that should have incinerated Lovette where she stood but only seemed to provide her with amusement before giving her father’s arm one final pat. Then she took a step away from our gathering. “Congratulations, the pair of you.” She threw another deadly look at Lovette before turning her attention to her father. “I’mgoing to tend my furnace.” She gestured back to us. “Theyare going to go eat somebreakfast, andyouare going to check in with the archmage, yes?”
“Yes, that’s—” Magnus started, but Imogen wasn’t done.
“Also, Ophelia invited you to visit if you needed some encouragement with these new developments, though you’re taking this all rather well, I think.”
“Ophelia?” we asked her in chorus, which made Lovette’s mouth twitch in amusement while mine tightened.
“When did you see Ophelia?” Magnus asked, the notion that they’d gone to the ancient sorceress now clearly his primary concern, and I could relate. She was a terrifyingly unpredictable woman.
“Not long ago. She sends her regards and extended an invitation to visit should you need some… clarity on the subject of mate bonds. I hear she’s very fond of salted licorice.”
“Yes, I’m aware,” he mumbled, following behind her as her long legs carried her toward the forge.
When I turned from watching them walk away, adrenaline still pumping through my blood, I found Lovette smiling at me. “Come on, I’m starving.”
“Is he being genuine?” I asked. Left with no choice, I followed as she tugged me down the path toward the meetinghouse doors.
“Of course he is. Have you ever known him to be false?” As we loaded up our plates and took seats across from one another for the first time in full view of our kin, I realized I never had. Magnus was honest to a fault and good natured. My interpretation of his responses were a reflection of me, not of him. And the opportunity to train the next batch of stone kin youth into efficient soldiers did hold a certain appeal.
