by K. M. Shea
They have a very different relationship than Evariste and I—even though we are also technically master and apprentice. I’m sure, though, it’s the difference in personalities.
Angelique couldn’t imagine Evariste using similar nicknames or threats on her. He was far more prone to coaxing and spoiling her. Perhaps it was that he had an entirely different teaching method?
“How did you get him out, Angelique? What transpired at Glitzern? You must tell me everything!”
After filling Clovicus in about the mirror, Queen Faina’s rescue, and the Chosen’s escape with said mirror (as well as the bad news that Snow White had delivered about the cold trail), the Lord Enchanter was in high spirits, and much of the weariness Angelique had seen in him when the spell first connected had been buffed away by his newfound joy.
“Angelique is right,” Clovicus declared. “It’s of top priority that Prince Severin is informed of all of this. I can contact him—and Stil; I’m certain he’ll be glad to hear you’re out, Evariste. But as far as I’m concerned, we can keep news of your freedom quiet from the Veneno Conclave. Particularly since we have established that there is a Chosen member somewhere within its ranks.”
“How far away are you from the Conclave?” Evariste asked.
Clovicus scratched his chin. “I should arrive in two or three days—maybe a little later given that I’m sure it will take some time to inform Severin and Stil of all that has transpired.”
“I can contact Severin,” Angelique offered.
“Nonsense.” Clovicus batted across his mirror. “You look like death that got trampled by a carriage and a pair of horses. You need to sleep. You can talk to Severin after.”
Angelique’s shoulders hunched in relief. “Thank you, Clovicus.”
“Anything for my apprentice’s apprentice,” Clovicus drawled. “The two of you be careful. Since the Chosen know Evariste is still cut off from his magic, they may attempt to retrieve him.”
Angelique smiled and felt her magic rear up around her. “They’re welcome to try,” she said between clenched teeth.
Clovicus squinted at her through the mirror. “I approve of your intensity. Next time a snooty mage tries to boss you around, you should show them that look, and then maybe kick them for good measure.”
Angelique cocked an eyebrow. “Rebel against social customs?” she quoted.
“Yes—forever and ever. As long as it’s convenient for me!” Clovicus winked, then flicked his gaze to Evariste. “Rest up, Evar. You look even worse than Angelique.”
Evariste’s laugh was rusty—as if he hadn’t used it in so long, he could barely remember how to. “Your concern warms me.”
Rather than grinning in return, Clovicus hesitated. “Be safe, and destroy anyone who tries to harm you. Either of you.”
“I know, the continent can’t afford it,” Angelique said.
“Blast the continent,” Clovicus said. “I wouldn’t be able to handle losing you. Take care.” He plucked the spell apart before they could respond to the uncharacteristically warm statement.
Angelique smiled fondly at her mirror as its surface swirled and then turned reflective.
“You’ve gotten close to Lord Enchanter Clovicus.” Evariste acknowledged.
“Yes.” Angelique slipped the mirror back in her satchel and studied Evariste’s thoughtful expression. “I did tell you he was the only mage willing to help me when the Council kept summoning me.”
“You did. It’s just that Clovicus is very slow to bestow his affection on someone.”
Angelique’s eyes drifted to the Seven Warriors protectively posted around the room. Gregori was checking his quiver of crossbow bolts while Wendal attempted to ruffle his hair so it wasn’t so flat due to the position he’d slept in.
“You were gone six years,” she said.
“Mmm.” There was something about the way he looked at her. His eyes were…not calculating, but they glittered with a sharpness or maybe a slyness Angelique hadn’t seen before. “Did he talk to you about me?”
“He told me about the time you blasted your eyebrows off,” Angelique said.
He’d folded his arms across his chest, but at Angelique’s words he relaxed, the lines of his shoulders softening. “Ahh—he only told you apprenticeship stories then, did he?”
“Yes.” Angelique flicked her eyes from Evariste to a pile of fancy embroidered cushions the Seven Warriors had piled when making room for themselves on the furniture. It looked delectably inviting. “What else could he have told me about?”
“Nothing.” Evariste’s voice was breezy once again. “Are you ready to rest?”
“Yes!” Angelique staggered across the room and fell face-first into the cushions.
She would have fallen asleep immediately if her constant concern for Evariste hadn’t so completely filled her mind. Instead, she shimmied around on her cushion pile and watched as Evariste lowered himself onto the settee next to her.
“You’re going to sleep, too?”
“I’ll rest,” Evariste said. “Sleep seems…evasive.”
Angelique fluffed a pillow, then smacked her head into it. “Wake me up if you decide to leave to fetch breakfast or something.”
“I promise,” Evariste agreed.
Angelique nodded and shut her eyes. Almost immediately, her mind screamed at her to keep them open. She needed an assurance that Evariste really—really—was with her.
She popped one heavy eyelid open in time to see Evariste flip so he was on his stomach with one arm cascading over the side of the sofa, his hand resting on a wayward cushion from her pile.
She stared at the sleeve of his black and blue tunic.
Don’t. She told herself. Don’t be silly and needy.
Whether weakened by lack of sleep or by the necessity of assurance, Angelique ignored her own thoughts and crept her hand out, silently pinching the cuff of Evariste’s sleeve—a tactile reassurance that he was with her, even if her eyes were closed.
He didn’t seem to notice the indirect contact; his eyes were already shut.
Satisfied, Angelique closed her eyes. Between the steady woosh of his breath, the beautiful sound of the warriors adjusting their weapons, and the feel of Evariste’s tunic on her fingers, her worries receded, and Angelique fell asleep.
The few snatched hours of sleep Angelique got hardly felt like more than a nap, but upon waking, she nagged a captain of the palace guard into taking her to the abandoned Chosen hideouts, which was far more productive than sleeping.
It was, however, a study of anxiety, given that she and Evariste agreed it was better if he stayed behind in the well-guarded palace and in a bubble of Angelique’s magic in which she put every protective spell she could think of.
The hideouts were unremarkable compared to what Quinn and Angelique had seen in the dens on Mullberg’s East coast.
There were no goods stored within them, and while there were records, they were—unfortunately—mostly recordings of Queen Faina’s mental state.
Disappointed by the lack of findings, Angelique returned to Glitzern and was somewhat discombobulated to find Evariste safely in the magic bubble, having tea with Snow White as Wendal and Aldelbert were in the middle of demonstrating the beauty that was Aldelbert’s “Glory-Intensifying Stretches.”
Snow White stood upon Angelique’s entrance to the room—a sunny parlor that hadn’t seen any of the prior day’s action and possessed a pretty patio Angelique had spelled so well, it would survive an avalanche. “Lady Enchantress. Did you find anything of use?”
“After everything we’ve been through, Snow White, I insist you call me Angelique.”
Angelique paused to observe Aldelbert, dutifully instructing Queen Faina. “Now lean back on your heels and crouch as if you were sitting in a chair, even though there is not a chair, because the world is your throne, and you sit upon it with thighs of iron!”
“Fine iron,” Wendal added.
The corners of Faina’s eyes crinkled with amusement
as she followed the pair’s instructions and crouched as they displayed.
Angelique slightly shook her head, then turned to wanly smile at Snow White and Evariste. “I found proof of things we already know. Based on the records they kept, it appears the Chosen kept at least one mage on watch on a rotational basis—to watch the mirror and observe Faina. But I was unable to find records that they were sent to do anything else besides stand watch.”
She plopped down next to Snow White on a burgundy-colored sofa. Her iridescent skirts puffed around her before conforming to her sitting position.
She’d changed into the color-changing gown after waking up. It’d been more than a little awkward since Evariste hadn’t technically given it to her, yet; he’d been storing it in his room before he was taken.
But there was no point in hiding who she was anymore, so she’d donned her more-station-appropriate clothing before telling Snow White the truth of who she was—and her knowledge of the alliance and Prince Severin and Princess Elle.
“Unfortunately,” she continued. “There wasn’t much new information to glean for the alliance besides the obvious conclusion that the Chosen had been attempting to break Faina for years.”
“That’s about what I’d expect,” Evariste said. “Occasionally, Chosen mages approached the mirror. They’d have to be watching it to know when it was safe to approach, especially given the time Queen Faina spent in her room before the mirror entirely controlled her.”
Angelique closed her eyes and rested her fingertips on her eyelids. “It corresponds with what Quinn and I learned, too. We knew they were entering Juwel on a rotational basis. At least we now have proof—because the Veneno Conclave will demand boatloads of it before they finally get moving.”
Snow White settled back into her spot and picked up her teacup—gold, and set with exquisitely cut gems that were arranged in the shape of a peacock. “It’s still disappointing that there was nothing helpful at all.”
“There were some covert correspondences,” Angelique said. “They only contained references to the mirror—and one or two of them mentioned Evariste’s health. But the names included may be useful. I recorded them all to give to Severin when I contact him tonight.”
“I’ll have aides make copies for Mullberg and will send the originals to Prince Severin,” Snow White promised. “Perhaps a mage will find something hidden in the paper?”
“Maybe,” Angelique said with little hope. “Unfortunately, this careful planning is very common within the Chosen’s ranks. But it would be best to cover all possible situations, I imagine. Did you ever discover a reason why the mirror targeted you with such hatred?”
“Yes. I spoke with Faina at length about the subject,” Snow White said. “It wanted to irradicate me because in her love for me, Faina was able to resist it. It’s why it took as long as it did for her to succumb to its effects.”
“That’s very impressive,” Evariste said. “It speaks much of Queen Faina’s strength of character—and of her love for you.”
Snow White smiled shyly and nodded.
It’s also another display of the power of love—maternal or otherwise. It does my soul good to see that the Chosen has a consistent failing.
Across the room, Aldelbert continued to instruct Faina. “No, reach high above your head—as if you are stretching towards your glorious future and blessing the sun with the beauty of your face!” Aldelbert reached high over his head and laughed.
“Your arms are too angled, Your Majesty. You must attempt to stretch directly overhead,” Wendal helpfully added.
Snow White and Evariste both calmly sipped their tea, as if Aldelbert teaching the Queen his admittedly strange stretches were an everyday occurrence.
I suspect most countries are going to find their future monarchs are far more unflappable than their predecessors.
Snow White cleared her throat. “Lady—no—Angelique?”
Angelique shifted so she properly faced Snow White. “Yes?”
Snow White set her teacup on a wooden table that was painted to resemble a mountain sunset. “I don’t believe I’ve officially thanked you for everything you’ve done, starting in the woods when I was desperately trying to find Fritz and the others.”
Angelique blinked in surprise, then smiled. “It was my duty as an enchantress to help you, but it was also my pleasure. We might have had a rough time of it—with the constructs and all—but you’re a delight to be around, Snow White. You’ll make a fantastic queen someday soon.”
A pink blush heated Snow White’s cheeks. “Thank you. Your good opinion means much to me. I enjoyed our time together, too.” She clasped her hands and set them on her lap with minimal awkwardness. “But I want to say that I am especially grateful now that I know what you put aside to help me. Mullberg won’t forget—I won’t forget.” Snow White meaningfully looked at Evariste, who smiled mysteriously over his cup of tea.
I guess they had plenty of time to talk while I investigated the Chosen strongholds.
“Yes, well, I apologize for keeping my true abilities hidden from you,” Angelique said.
“You had valid reasons,” Snow White said. “If you had revealed who you were, I don’t know that it would have changed much regardless. We couldn’t have stormed the palace as one princess, Seven Warriors, and a single enchantress. That would have been the epitome of folly.”
Angelique laughed—a gusty exhale that rattled her lungs with her mirth. “I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to hear you say some of my own reasoning.”
Snow White was too graceful for a shrug, so she slightly pursed her lips instead. “It’s true.”
“It is.” Angelique impulsively set her hand on top of Snow White’s clasped ones. “But most would still look upon my dishonesty with ill favor. Thank you, Snow White, for understanding.”
She studied Snow White for a moment, trying to discern what she could from the princess’s clear blue eyes. She wanted to reach out and tell the princess just how much her friendship meant, but it felt dangerous.
It was possible that Snow White would reject her.
But Quinn, Gabrielle, Elle, and Puss taught me: it’s better to reach out and risk rejection than to miss out on true friendship.
“Thank you for being my friend—despite all of this,” Angelique said.
Snow White’s blue eyes practically shone, and her smile was so warm, it melted all of Angelique’s fears. “Of course.” She removed her hand from under Angelique’s, only to grasp Angelique’s palm between hers. “If you ever have need of me, call. I’ll answer—not for Mullberg, but because you’re my friend.”
Angelique swallowed around the unexpected lump of emotion that clogged her throat. “Thank you.”
Snow White must have sensed her awkwardness because she squeezed Angelique’s hand, then released her to reclaim her tea.
Once Angelique was able to blink past the sting of happy tears, she sniffed, then glanced at Evariste.
He wore an…odd look.
It was affectionate, but not the same endearing look he’d give her when she’d bumbled through learning new kinds of magic or the difficult exercises he’d give her later in her apprenticeship. It was less proud or doting and more personal.
Our balance has changed, Angelique realized. Although I’m an apprentice, I don’t act like one—and I certainly have more experience than a regular apprentice. How will our relationship work if we don’t have the teacher-student bond we used to?
Part of that would be working out exactly why her magic connected with him—wouldn’t that be fun to explain to Clovicus when they finally met him face-to-face?
“Would you like some tea, Angelique?” Snow White asked as she held the teapot—which glittered with a gem-encrusted menagerie of birds.
Mentally shaking herself, Angelique pulled her eyes off Evariste. “Yes, please.”
“If we leave for Loire within an hour, we’ll make good time,” Angelique said.
Snow White pursed
her lips and peered up at them. “You still do not plan to stop by the Veneno Conclave on your way to inform Prince Severin and Prince Lucien of what occurred here?”
Angelique shook her head. “Severin needs to know first—he’ll actually do something about it,” she said. “I doubt the Conclave would do much more even if we did tell them, and they’ll fuss over Evariste’s return and waste time we don’t have.”
Snow White nodded, which relieved Angelique greatly.
She’d told Snow White of the Conclave’s inaction, but she hadn’t explained her entire sordid past with the organization.
There’re only about a million reasons why we want to avoid the Conclave. If we hope to avoid their detection for a few more weeks, we need to leave before whatever mage the Conclave sends to “investigate” Faina finally arrives!
When Snow White peered at Evariste, he smiled handsomely.
“Whatever Angel thinks is best,” he said. “I’ve been locked in a mirror for years. I really haven’t the faintest clue what has transpired in my absence.”
His ability to play innocent is shocking. Is this a newfound ability, or could he do this when I was his apprentice?
“I see.” Snow White looked around the hall, which had become the unofficial receiving room since the finer parts of the castle were just now starting to be repaired. “I cannot say I blame you—for we freed Faina nearly two days ago, and we have not yet received word from the Veneno Conclave representative we sent Fritz to notify even before I ate the spelled apple.”
“Yes.” Angelique evasively looked away and settled her expression into a frown. “It is disappointing.”
Snow White cleared her throat. “I h-hope you two have a safe journey.”
“It would be a fast one—if I had access to my magic,” Evariste said ruefully.
“It will still be quick.” Angelique rubbed the back of her neck, trying to relieve some of the tension she felt building there. “Pegasus can bear us both.”
“I must add my thanks for your willingness to carry my letters and reports to the princes of Loire,” Snow White said. “And please…if you could ask for mercy on our behalf when you explain why we failed to attend the Summit, I would appreciate it.”