Page 29 of Fate's Sweetest Curse
“Me, too,” she said in a warbling voice, and Noble wondered if she knew that this wasn’t his doing, but his father’s—wielding disappointment against Noble in the name of discipline and hurting Hattie in the process.
It made Noble irrationally angry, which would no doubt make him a better fighter against Brendan when his short break was up.
“Tomorrow,” he stated firmly, desperate for it to be so.
“Tomorrow,” she agreed. Then she brushed an errant curl off her forehead, assuming a haughty posture. “Or perhaps I’ll just go today,”she taunted, “on my own. I’ll eat all your chocolate pastries myself, so they don’t go to waste.”
“Youwouldn’t,” he said, thrilled to be teased by her. She wouldn’t make jokes if she were truly devastated, right?
“I would,” she said, already backing away down the open corridor. “You won’t know what you’re missing, Noble Asheren.” She turned, skipping away, her dress billowing like sheets on a clothesline, like summer cumulus clouds, like the ballooning of his lungs.
“Trust me,” he muttered after she’d disappeared around the corner, “I do.”
“Whatever it is you’re thinking—don’t,” Kalden said, arriving at Noble’s side.
Noble glanced over his shoulder at Brendan, who was swinging a practice sword in the center of the training ring, warming up with unnecessary flare.
When Noble faced his father again, he assumed a mask of indifference. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Good.”
Frustration welled up in Noble, but he swallowed it like bitter bile. “Let’s resume,” he grumbled, brushing past his father and heading toward his nemesis for a brutal afternoon of pointless sparring.
Nearly thirteen years had passed since that day, and Noble—adult Noble—was still exercising the same restraint. Swallowing the same frustration.
Alone in his room at the Royal Inn of Fenrir—his home for the foreseeable future—Noble ducked under the surface of his bath. At this very moment, Phina was probably inviting Hattie onto her research team. When Hattie agreed—and he knew she would—Noble would once again be caught between wanting to tell her how he felt and stifling his emotions for the sake of her safety and future. Only this time, he wouldn’t have Kalden to break their constant tension. This time, thedistractions of Waldron wouldn’t keep them apart. Forced to work together in Phina’s lab, they’d be unable to avoid each other. They’dhaveto interact.
Noble really ought not look forward to it as much as he did.
He surfaced, wiping the water from his eyes.
At least in such close proximity, he would be able to look out for her—keep her safe from the perils of working on a project as volatile as Phina’s research. Then again, it was possible that the most dangerous thing to Hattie was, in fact,him.
11
Risk
Hattie
You’re kidding,” Sani shrieked, clapping her hands. “You’rekidding!”
A trio of students walking along the edge of the lawn glanced curiously in our direction.
Uriel, Sani, and I were seated on a wool blanket beneath the oak tree in the center of the interior courtyard at Inver College, where we lived and studied. The Collegium was essentially its own city within Fenrir’s capital, comprised of fifteen college buildings—which housed classrooms, offices, dormitories, and enclosed outdoor spaces like this one—as well as seven libraries, and three highly secure research centers. All the structures were stunningly built and fastidiously maintained, with grounds that rivaled even the most splendid royal gardens.
Snacking on bread, cheese, and olives under the oak tree at Inver was my favorite non-alchemy-related pastime at the Collegium—but it didn’t quell today’s uneasiness after my meeting with Phina.
I tucked a stray curl behind my ear. “I know I should be happy, but—”
“You are not,” Uriel cut in. “Why?”
Sani reclined on one elbow to reach a piece of cheese. “Is it your new Oath?”
Oaths of Allegiance were a common practice at the Collegium—especially when it came to covert research. Because no magic was strong enough to tie someone’s tongue completely, apprentices took Oaths of Allegiance as a way of officially binding them to the studies theyserved, discouraging disloyalty, and diminishing the spread of sensitive information.
Unlike the powerful Oaths of adepts and knights—which were taken before rulers and recorded in magical Oath Ledgers by arcane magicians called ledgermasters—Oaths of Allegiance were minor. The moment I’d saidyesto Phina’s offer, she’d had me recite my Oath right there in her office and had recorded it in her Research Ledger herself. Aside from the faint tattoo that’d formed around my right wrist, I felt wholly the same—unchanged.
Even so, I had to be cautious about what I told my friends about the program; I didn’t want to inadvertently break my Oath and end up with my name recorded in Phina’s ledger as a dissenter. I chose my words carefully as I elaborated. “Remember our night of non-mingling at the Charm?”
