by V. St. Clair
Asher raised an eyebrow and said, “I’m not good at lying about things—I have no energy for it. And I never know why people compliment others for their looks, which you really have very little control over. It’s like saying, ‘good job winning the genetic shuffle.’ ”
“That’s true,” Tricia allowed. “So what other glowing half-praise do you have to offer me?” she teased.
“Well, you’ve got starch, which is something that a lot of people lack—including Maralynn,” he told her. “You don’t let people walk all over you, and you aren’t afraid to fight back. Heck, you beat the snot out of me at least twice a month.”
“And that’s something you actually admire?” she asked skeptically, surprised by this.
“Sure, it means you’re tough. I don’t have to walk on eggshells around you because I’m afraid I’ll say something that makes you burst into tears. I adore Maralynn, but I’m much more guarded in what I say to her, where I can be my normal, obnoxious self around you.”
“That might be one of the better compliments I’ve ever received,” Tricia smiled, setting aside her last partially-finished skewer.
Asher shook himself mentally.
“Why are we talking about depressing things anyway? We’re supposed to be having fun.” He brightened. “Let’s just forget about everything else for a bit and have a good time.”
Tricia looked a little dubious but said, “Sounds like a plan.”
The dance hall was easy enough to find; it was clearly a principle attraction in the town. The man at the door taking money gave them a strange look, which Asher assumed was due to them being mages—though, honestly, the man needed to get used to seeing them. Mages weren’t exactly rare, but perhaps it was a bit of a novelty in this town…
As soon as he and Tricia entered the dance hall, he realized his mistake. The man hadn’t been giving them odd looks because they were mages…he was staring at them because they were at least forty years younger than everyone else in the ballroom.
Tricia grimaced as she took in the surroundings, becoming suddenly tense.
“Oh no…I heard this place does themed dance nights. We must have walked in on senior night or something…”
Asher did what he always did in the face of embarrassment; he called attention to it as much as possible.
“Good lord…” he trailed off thoughtfully. “I think the average age in the room dropped from ninety to eighty-nine when we walked in.”
Tricia smacked him in the arm reflexively and said, “Not so loud! They’ll hear you!”
“Not likely,” he joked, sparing her a wry grin. “If there are four working ears in this entire building I’ll be amazed…”
“Oh come on,” Tricia rolled her eyes, though she did have to stifle a laugh at the joke. “They aren’t that old. Some of these people could be your father’s age.”
Asher ignored her comment and said, “Should those two be dancing so energetically?” he pointed. “They might fall and break a hip…”
Tricia smacked him in the arm again and said, “We should go. We look stupid standing here in the doorway like this.”
“What do you mean, go?” he asked incredulously, mostly because he had parted with his hard begged-for money at the door already, and had no intention of wasting it. “We came to dance, and dance we shall.”
Tricia looked mildly alarmed, which brightened his spirits slightly.
“You want us to stay and dance with all of these old people?”
Asher gave her a flat stare and said, “Not ten seconds ago you were telling me they are at the peak of their youth and liveliness. Besides, the doorman didn’t stop us, so it’s hardly an exclusive event. Why shouldn’t we stay and dance?”
The more embarrassed she looked, the more convinced he was that he was doing the right thing. He had always taken immense joy in the good-natured mortification of others; he was pretty sure it was good for the soul or something.
“I should have known something like this would happen…” she groaned, looking to the sky as though mentally cursing someone only she could see.
“That you’d be stuck in a dance hall full of the elderly with a charming, extremely handsome young man?” Asher grinned at her. “I’m not sure how anyone could have seen that coming…”
She aimed a kick at him but he sidestepped it easily and extended a hand to her in his most gentlemanly fashion. For a moment, Tricia stared at it dubiously, and it occurred to Asher that she might not be having very much fun so far tonight. First he’d brought up the painful subject of unrequited love, bought her cheap food on sticks, and now they were markedly out of place and drawing stares at the dance hall. He decided to redouble his efforts and be so outlandish and cheerful that she would be forced to enjoy herself.
Finally, she took his hand and allowed him to guide her out onto the dance floor, looking for a vacant spot. Since the other couples were engaged in a lighthearted two-step that involved linking arms and turning in circles around each other, everyone was fairly evenly spaced throughout the room. They ended up in the almost exact center of the wooden dance floor, Tricia looking more mortified than ever.
“I must confess, I don’t know this one…but it seems simple enough.” He gestured at the neighboring couples. “Shall we link arms and swing each other about?”
She mumbled something that might have been acquiescence and then linked arms with him. He nearly knocked her off her feet by pulling her around in an arc with much more enthusiasm than any of the other couples in the vicinity, causing her to trip over her own feet as she attempted to right herself.
“Not so fast—! Are you insane?!” she called out as he swung her around, laughing now because he was thoroughly enjoying himself.
“We can’t let the others show us up!” he insisted. “We have youth on our side; we should be spry!” she had found her feet now and was keeping pace with him, so he sped up even more. The nearest dancing pairs edged away slightly to give them more room, probably afraid of being bowled over by their enthusiastic spinning.
Trish looked like she was regretting eating dinner, so Asher slowed down the pace of their spinning to a more reasonable level. Nothing ruined a good date like vomiting in the middle of a public venue.
“These people probably think we’re both insane,” she groaned, flashing an apologetic half-grimace to an elderly couple as they twirled past. The duo returned her look with a fond smile, as though reflecting on memories of their own youth.
“Nonsense,” Asher assured her. “They were young once too…centuries ago.”
Tricia tried to stifle a laugh, which resulted in her snorting loudly enough to draw attention. Asher burst into laughter as she flushed, mortified.
“Just once,” she growled at him, “I would love to see you get embarrassed, since you delight in the torment of others.”
“I’m afraid you’ll be waiting quite a while then,” he explained in tones of mock-regret. “I don’t really believe in embarrassment. No one can humiliate you if you don’t take yourself that seriously in the first place.”
“I wish I could be like that.”
“You can be,” Asher assured her, slowing down the pace as the song changed to something smoother. “You just have to accept that you’ll likely never see these people again, their opinions of you and I really don’t matter in the grand scheme of things, and that we’re here to have fun. Just let the rest go.”
Tricia looked to actually be considering his words, which was something of a surprise to him. They were silent for a few moments, swaying lightly to the music while they caught their breaths, and then Tricia nodded resolutely, as though making a critical decision.
“You’re right. I worry too much. Do your worst, Asher Masters.”
He raised an eyebrow at the challenge and felt a grin overtake his face. “You really shouldn’t bait me like that. I love a challenge.”
Trish shrugged, which he took as permission to be as ridiculous as he wanted, so without furt
her ado he swung her into his arms and began sweeping them across the room in an ungainly waltz. Aleric would have done it properly, having had lessons in dancing since he was a child, but then again, if it had been perfect, it wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun.
His partner was barely able to keep up with his long strides and wide turns, bringing them to the outskirts of the ballroom so they could move around its perimeter without mowing down the other patrons. They got more than a few strange looks and a few laughs or eye-rolls, but Asher wasn’t bothered by any of it. Trish looked like she didn’t notice or care either, but maybe that was just because she was struggling to keep up with him and was focused on not falling over.
Acting on sudden inspiration, he stopped abruptly and spun Tricia in a tight circle that had the potential to be graceful, had she been expecting it. Since she wasn’t, it resulted in her tripping over her own foot, smashing into him, and the pair of them falling flat onto the polished floor in a clumsy heap.
Asher laughed and got back to his feet, checking to make sure his circlet and weapons belt was secure before helping Trish up.
“I heard something break,” Trish admitted, looking nervous. “It was either my tailbone or one of my wands…”
“Do you want me to check for you?” Asher asked with a grin, earning himself a slap in the arm. “I meant your wands, of course…” he added in a dignified tone.
She examined her own instrument belt and said, “Yes, it was my yew wand.” She sighed and said, “Well, I’ll have a hard time explaining that tomorrow when I go to buy a new one from the store after only having this one for a day and a half…”
“Just tell them I’m involved and Willow probably won’t ask you any more questions,” Asher suggested helpfully, earning a smile.
They went to get something to drink in a nearby foyer, and then returned to the dance hall. Asher was surprised to find that he was having so much fun on a date that wasn’t with Maralynn, and spent most of their time together not even thinking about her at all. In fact, the one time she did cross his mind, it was when he realized that she would have hated this and never gone along with any of it.
By the end of the night, he was glad he had taken Trish out instead of bailing on her to go with Maralynn and the others. Despite the fact that she had cursed him countless times, tripped twice, and punched him in the arm on four separate occasions, she also seemed to have fun, which was mollifying.
It was quite late when they returned to Mizzenwald, walking beside each other across the grounds in the darkness. Both of them were sweating and disheveled from all the exuberant dancing.
“Well, I don’t know about you, but my workout for the week is complete,” he joked as they approached the school.
“I don’t think I’ve been this sweaty in years,” Tricia added, making a face at herself that he could barely see in the darkness.
“Good, then my work here is done.”
A moment of silence between them as they entered the Pentagon, and then Trish said, “We should go out again sometime.”
Yawning, Asher shrugged and said, “Sure, it was a good time. It’s always nice to spend the evening with someone who knows the pain of unrequited love and doesn’t mind going along with my antics.”
Tricia pursed her lips briefly at this but agreed, and they parted ways on the second floor, each heading to their respective bedrooms. Asher was surprised to find that he was alone in the room when he came in; Aleric’s bed was still neatly made and it looked like he hadn’t been here in a while.
Probably still holed up in the library somewhere, working on his new project.
Aleric could be very single-minded like that, forgetting to eat or sleep when he was on something new. Asher made a mental note to check for him in the morning if he didn’t return to the room, and got ready for bed, feeling cheerful about life for a change. Maybe tomorrow he could make things up to Maralynn…
14
A Father’s Dream
Aleric awoke to the find Cinder perched just in front of his face, peering into his eyes. He startled and sat upright, pushing his chair backwards to put some space between them and wincing at the crick in his neck. It was then that he realized he had fallen asleep in his workroom, a dozen open books laid out around him and an orange prism in his hand. He blinked a few times to get his bearings and said, “You know not to stand that close to me when I’m sleeping,” to his familiar.
Cinder made a noise that might have indicated annoyance, turning to stare at the wall as though looking through a window. Aleric knew what that meant.
“Is it morning already?” he asked, frowning and getting to his feet, stretching his back and running a hand through his hair before remembering that he was still wearing his silk prism-handling gloves.
He returned the orange prism to the table in front of him and pulled the gloves off, tucking them into a pocket on his belt that was made for them. Cinder flapped his wings a few times in agitation and moved towards the door, just as someone knocked on the other side of it.
Aleric raised an eyebrow at his familiar, who obviously had expected the visit, and tried to pull himself together mentally as he went to answer the door. He expected it to be Asher or Master Antwar, since no one else really visited him at his workroom.
He was therefore surprised to find his mother on the other side of the door upon opening it.
“Mother?” he asked dumbly, raising his eyebrows. “What are you doing here?”
“You look like you just woke up,” she greeted him neutrally, her eyes running over his appearance. “You’ll need to wash up and make yourself presentable.”
“For what?” he asked, still standing in the doorway of the workroom out of habit, because he never let anyone but the Prism Master into his workspace, and that only because he was required to.
“Susanna Kilgore is visiting soon. You’re expected to sit with her and make conversation for an hour or so,” Adorina Frost explained without emotion.
“What?” Aleric blurted out. “I don’t remember you telling me about this the last time we spoke…”
“It was something of a last-minute arrangement. Her father is keen on inserting her into our family as soon as possible, and this was a concession we made on your behalf to show that things are progressing between the two of you.”
Aleric suppressed a groan and rubbed his eyes.
“All right, when do I need to be presentable and at home?”
“In thirty minutes.”
“WHAT?” his eyes popped back open, all traces of fatigue forgotten.
Leave it to Mother to not tell me until the last minute…
“It is already past breakfast. I expected to find you awake and presentable when I arrived this morning. You’ll want to hurry.”
He shut the door behind him and ran past her, activating the wards reflexively as he turned down the hall and jogged through the Pentagon, taking the stairs up in threes. It was obvious, as he barged into his room and pulled out fresh clothing, that it had been daylight for some time now, and Aleric chided himself for sleeping so late into the morning when there was work to be done.
Carrying his things with him and moving past people without acknowledging any of the greetings or waves, he hurried down the hall to the bathrooms and took one of the fastest showers of his life. The water rejuvenated him, and he ignored his growling stomach as he dressed rapidly and dried his hair with a towel, smoothing it down to avoid looking as tousled as Asher usually did.
He made it home with two minutes to spare, slightly out of breath as he strode through the front doors and asked the doorman for directions.
“Which parlor are we in, Jerald?”
“The yellow one, sir,” the doorman informed him. “The lady Susanna arrived five minutes ago, though her father has since departed. I believe your mother is serving finger foods just now.”
“Thank you,” Aleric strode past Jerald, turning through the main entryway and moving towards the yellow parlor, d
oing some last-minute checks on his clothing as he went. The yellow parlor was the smallest of the sitting rooms at the Frost estate, and therefore the least imposing to visitors. It had large windows to let in the sun, giving it a cheery, comfortable feeling, with white chairs and small, circular coffee tables. He suspected his mother had chosen it to put Susanna at ease.
Good thing her father didn’t insist on staying with her…
Eldric Kilgore was cold and dispassionate enough to ruin any conversation, in Aleric’s opinion. In some ways he was worse than Cowen Frost himself in this regard.
Susanna was just thanking Aleric’s mother for the artfully-decorated, bite-sized cake she had selected off the tray when he walked into the room. As Jerald had reported, Eldric was nowhere to be seen; the only other person in the room with them besides his mother was one of their oldest, longest-serving employees of the Frost family, a man named Frank who usually tended to the horses.
Ah, a chaperone.
Of course their visit wouldn’t be private. That would be scandalous for a young lady of Susanna’s rank, especially as the heir to her House. Aleric thought the entire thing was a bit ridiculous, given that he had no interest in behaving improperly with the young girl when there were many more pleasant options available to him elsewhere, but the proprieties must be observed…
“Susanna, hello,” he greeted her pleasantly, taking the white upholstered armchair opposite hers. “Forgive my lateness…I was working well into the night on a research project of mine, and was a bit slow getting out of bed this morning.”
“Oh, it’s quite all right,” she assured him, clasping a cup of tea in her hands as though it was a shield. The poor thing was obviously still nervous around him. “I only just got here a minute ago.”
“I’ll leave you two to become acquainted,” Adorina Frost excused herself. “Please have me called before you depart,” she added to Susanna. “I want a chance to say goodbye before you leave.”
Susanna nodded, and then suddenly, she and Aleric were left alone in the room. Well, not really alone…but Frank didn’t count. He took a seat at the opposite end of the room and stared out the window, doing his best to remain unobtrusive and unnoticed.