Page 88 of A Tower of Half-Truths
“—while I strain the herbs.”
“Y-yes, that’s probably for the best.”
Alain removed his hand and took a half-step back. Mavery turned to her left at the same time Alain reached for the torch, and she walked straight into his outstretched arm. She tried moving in the other direction, only to bump into his shoulder. They exchanged nervous laughter as, no matter which direction they moved, they seemed destined to collide into each other. Alain took a full step back and remained still, allowing Mavery to finally slip past him. Face burning, she did so while lowering her gaze.
She returned to the stove, where the tea had cooled enoughto touch. She strained the liquid through a cheesecloth, using her bare hands to extract every bit of liquid from the clump of wet herbs. Each squeeze relieved a bit of her embarrassment, but plenty remained even after the herbs had yielded their final drop.
As she wiped her indigo-stained hands on a tea towel, Alain brought over the powdered claws. He sidled next to her and tipped the white powder into the herb-infused base. Once again, Mavery became acutely aware of how closely they were standing: their shoulders were barely an inch apart. Her Ether-induced chill was no longer a concern; the kitchen felt like an inferno.
“I should, er, go work on my translation,” she muttered.
“All right,” Alain said, nodding. “I’ll finish up and bring you the potion in a few minutes.”
Back in the sitting room, Mavery threw herself onto Alain’s desk chair and allowed herself a single self-pitying groan before deciding she was being ridiculous.
Yes, she’d not only grown to enjoy Alain’s company, she was drawn to this man like a moth to a flame. But she couldn’t let his mere presence reduce her to a smitten schoolgirl. Now that she was an assistant in earnest, she had more important matters to worry about: the translation, the presentation, the strange word…
She was determined to take her job seriously, and that included not letting some condescending arcanist derail her research. And she was equally determined to not let some silly rules get between her and—
“Are you all right?”
She flinched at the sound of Alain’s voice. She’d been so lost in thought, she hadn’t heard him return from the kitchen.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Just…thinking.”
He placed a potion-filled teacup on the desk. “About the translation?”
He leaned against the desk, arms crossed over his chest in a way that suggested he was attempting to act casual in light of what had happened in the kitchen. Though Mavery’s most recent behavior spoke otherwise, she was thirty-seven years old and had enough experience to recognize in Alain the same internal struggle she felt within herself.
“The Covenants, actually,” she said. “I read nothing about how the High Council enforces those rules. When you become a wizard, do you swear a blood oath or—”
Alain laughed. “Blood oaths? Oh, those are just fairy tales.”
“And how am I supposed to know that?” she scoffed. “Everything about wizards, the High Council… It’s all so godsdamned cryptic.”
“Sorry, I often take for granted what’s common knowledge for wizards. To answer your question, when it comes to following the Covenants, we’re completely on the honor system. If someone were to break a covenant, the High Council would only know if it’s blatantly obvious, or if another wizard were to report a violation.
“As for the punishment…” He shifted uneasily. “Well, that depends. For something as banal as a dress code violation, the High Council will send you a sternly worded letter. Damaging a library book will earn you a small fine.”
“And what about a more serious violation?” Her mouth began to dry, but she pushed ahead, forced herself to speak the words. “For example, if a wizard were to become romantically involved with an assistant, what would happen then?”
His eyes narrowed. “Why do you ask?”
She met his gaze and held it. “Just humor me, Alain. What would happen if something like that came to light?”
“That would depend entirely upon the whims of the High Council—”
“Tell me the worst-case scenario.”
He sighed. “The assistant would face no formal punishment, save for the damage to her reputation following a scandal like that. As for the wizard, he would certainly lose his job at the University. And he would likely be stripped of his rank. That would mean no more research stipends, no more access to the universities’ libraries, no more resurrections. The wizard would become, for all intents and purposes, an ordinary mage.”
She laughed flatly. “You speak as though being an ‘ordinary mage’ would be a terrible thing.”
“I suppose it wouldn’t be, but losing one’s rank is still a risk I wouldn’t want to take. Er, hypothetically speaking, of course.”
He looked away as color rose in his cheeks. Mavery couldn’t recall ever knowing anyone who blushed as much as he did. It was one of the many things she found endearing about him.
“While we’re engaging in hypotheticals…” She chewed her lip. “What if the Covenantsdidn’t exist?”
