Page 61 of Fortress of Ambrose
“My magic has been spotty since the Sphere bled out. I wasn’t sure how perfectly it would go. But it went swell.”
“What kind of payment do I owe you?” I ask.
“Headmistress of the House took care of it.” He flashes a stunning pair of earrings with bright rubies. He steadies me with a hand, helping me take the first few steps. Once I’m solid on my feet, he packs up his things. The card he gave me is on the floor.
“I meant what I said.” He picks up the card and puts it back into my hand. “For the sake of my livelihood, I hope you have a solid plan for anew worldof magic.”
We have to get the Sphere’s magic out of me and into something that can be safely preserved. Then there’s the corruption that’s infiltrated the Houses, the horrid way magic is being abused to hurt people, the oppression that has to end. My head throbs. Trust is a fickle thing.
Someone has to build a new Order.
How else will Quell live with toushana freely?
I’m still figuring out how I’ll do it. But I crack my most confident smile. “I sure do.”
“Well, then, I’ve just helped save the world.”
Twenty-Five
Nore
Nore walked beside Yagrin toward a cluster of guesthouses tucked away in the peaceful hilltop greenery of Begonia Terrace. But all she could think about was how close they were to finding the last piece of the Scroll. She’d pulled the entire stitching out of the hem of her dress on the trek over. She was filled with equal parts excitement and dread.
The House secretary escorting them, who donned an ornate mask of feathers, stopped at a petite gate overgrown with vines. Nore lifted its latch and followed a gravel path to two garden houses, facing one another. Each boasted a wide deck with a firepit between.
“Headmistress said you needed two accommodations?” The secretary dangled two keys.
“Yes,” Yagrin said before she could respond. He was into her. She could see it in the way he looked at her, and that entire monologue he gave her earlier. She was winning him over. But the walk over to the guesthouses had shaken her nerves completely. The more she thought about the different ways this could go, the more she spiraled. The more she spiraled, the more she thought.
If he found out she was Red, could he really love her as Nore? Because she wasn’tjustRed. She was Nore, too. Heir to an ancestral magical House; daughter to a complicated, toxic family; bitter; and angrier than she cared to admit. She’d never been enough for anyone. Was it foolish tothink somehow Nore could be enough for Yagrin now? She bit her lip so hard she tasted copper.I have to hope.Without it, she had nothing left.
“Breakfast is served in Cerebvis dining hall.” The secretary turned to leave. Nore watched him go. When he was out of earshot, Yagrin handed her her key.
“Are you tired?” he asked.
“Sure.”
“So there’s nothing else really to talk about.”
“Not really, I guess.” She hated this distance between them.
“Sleep well.” He climbed his steps, pulled the glass door open, and stepped inside. She watched as he walked the length of the house. There was a petite bedroom, a few counter spaces, and a single chair, all open to see, thanks to the wall of glass windows with pulled-back curtains. It was a fully functioning house, but bite-size. He kicked off his shoes and sat on the bed. When he gazed outside at her tiny garden house, Nore realized she hadn’t moved. She waved, then hurried up the deck to her door.
It was cozy and filled with a floral scent. The bed was very soft, and the lamps and patterns on the covers were all artsy choices. Mosaic tile sparkled in the bathroom. When she exited the bathroom, she could see Yagrin across the way, reclined on his bed. It was silly for him to be all the way over there and her all the way over here, when they’d slept beside each other more times than she could count.
The memory of his body molded around hers clawed its way into her mind. When they lay together, they’d tangle their legs, and his fingers would graze her back so softly. He was so gentle. That’s what she loved most about him. Dragun, heartless, cold. That was the mask. Inside, Yagrin was tender and sensitive.
He’d mentioned very little about his childhood when they dated. But she could tell that his parents were not very kind to him. There were rumors about the dark things that went on at House of Perl. She saw the fingerprints of cruelty all over his heart. She climbed in bed and rested her head back, trying to look somewhere else other than the boyshe loved, yards away in a bed all by himself. She hopped up and took a shower.
When she was clean, she tied her hair up in a messy bun and slipped into a robe. She stepped out of the bathroom and screamed. Yagrin was standing outside her door. His face flushed.Sorry, he mouthed. She hugged her robe tighter around herself and opened the sliding glass door.
“Is everything alright?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…I didn’t know you were…”
“Yagrin, it’s fine. Is everything okay?”
“There’s no soap.”
