It shouldn’t have surprised Becka that Luce had been listening, as she’d been right outside the door and they’d been loud at times, but it was still a bit disquieting. “You weren’t even in the room.”
Luce tapped the side of her ear. “Our ears are better than yours. But I had an idea. Nothing like a shifter display, mind you.” Luce laughed to herself. “You fae never throw down and fight each other, unless it’s magical sparring. Or maybe House Oak… Anyway, with Vott out of commission, I was thinking I’d recommend to Brent that he name you as your father’s replacement until he recuperates. What do you think?”
What do I think? Maura would love it. So will Vott, when he wakes up. Plus, maybe I could learn more about this “pact.”
“It sounds like an all-around win. What’s involved in the role?”
“Understand, Vott had us mostly manage ourselves. He signs off on payments to our clan and approves details, but it’s rare he’d change any of Brent’s plans.”
“It sounds straightforward and uncomplicated. Plus, I like your clan, so anything I can do to help, count me in,” Becka replied.
Luce stopped and squared her stance to the divan. “Will do. Plus, I can suggest to Brent that he meet with you daily to ‘review’ findings, or schedules, or whatever. That way the other fae will see you as taking charge of us.”
“Seems sneaky, yet low-impact,” Becka said, and Luce grinned. “I like it.”
“A show of force is in the beholder’s perception, not the actual power behind the moves.”
A single knock on her bathroom door was followed by Saige poking her head in.
“Are you accepting the dinner invite with Alain, or are you blowing him off?” Saige asked. “Because you’re about to be late.”
Becka groaned. “I was blocking it out of my mind.”
Saige tilted her head, as if her reply didn’t quite make sense. “So you’re going?”
Becka picked up her bottle of hot sauce, took a swig, capped it and then slid it into her pocket. She stretched, feeling soreness in her legs and back. At least the dinner wouldn’t include a hike, and she could always beg off early and come back to sleep.
“Yeah, I am, for what it’s worth.” Becka barked out a laugh and headed out the door, both shifters trailing a step or two behind.
“You look unsteady,” Saige said. “Let us know if you need help getting back. It’s no problem.”
Becka nodded, hoping she wouldn’t have to take them up on the offer. Gratefully, Alain had picked a tea hall near her room to host the private dinner, and she arrived within minutes despite her relatively slow, shuffling pace.
Saige opened the door and entered first, Becka following. The room was illuminated with dozens of pure beeswax candles and the windows were open, allowing the scent of jasmine and rose to flow in on the evening breeze. A light evening repast had been set out on the central table. Becka spotted sliced fruits, cheeses, and breads.
Alain stood at the windows, turning to greet her as she entered. His hair was braided at the temples, the rest falling in perfectly kept cascading layers to his waist. His pale golden eyes virtually glowed in the candlelight, and his clothes, a sunset-red shirt and straight-legged amber-toned pants, were tailored to perfection around his thin, willowy form. The embroidered family crest over his heart, the fiery flames of Hawthorne, was unmistakable.
He was the epitome of good grooming.
Alain moved to her and took her gloved hand, placing a single kiss upon it as he bowed slightly at the waist. “My dearest Becka, I am humbled you could make it tonight. Thank you for accepting my invitation.”
She almost pulled her hand back in response to the revulsion hitting her gut, but then thought better of it. No doubt Maura would hear how she’d behaved later from either Alain or the household staff.
“Sure, but I don’t know how long I’ll be able to stay. I haven’t gotten my energy back yet.”
Then Becka realized they weren’t alone.
A short fae female arose from the couches and gave a quick bow in her direction. “Lady Becka, I am Alain’s cousin, Hanna. We met at the trade delegation, but I wasn’t sure if you’d remember after all that’s happened. I’m so glad for this opportunity to see you again.”
“That evening is something of a blur, but I do remember you, Lady Hanna.” Hanna was the one person who’d been enthusiastic to meet her, Becka recalled. She’d been suspicious at the time and now Becka was even more so. Why was Hanna here? “It’s nice to see you again.”
“Please, take a seat.” Alain motioned to the couch nearest her. “There’s no need for you to exert yourself any more than necessary.”
Becka sat, and Alain took a seat across from her, while Hanna sat on the section of the rounded couch squarely between the two of them. Saige stood to one side of the doorway, her gaze fanning between them and the corridor outside. Luce must have been right outside, because Becka didn’t see her. Alain poured Becka some sparkling juice, placing the glass close to her.
Saige stepped in and used a wipe on the rim of Becka’s glass, and then dipped it into the liquid briefly.
“What is that?” Becka asked, her heart skipping a beat. It was one thing to know about the potential of another poisoning, but the reality of having her food spot-checked made the danger visceral.
“You took chemistry at school?” she asked, and Becka nodded. “Then think of it as a type of litmus paper, except this is enchanted to detect a variety of poisons.” Saige used another wipe on the silverware and plate before Becka. “Simply put, if it turns black on contact, it’s bad.”
Is this how all meals are going to be until they catch the poisoner?
“That’s clever, but do you really think they’d use the same method?” Becka asked. She didn’t miss the worried glances between Alain and Hanna.
“Unlikely, but the testing is Brent’s directive,” Saige replied, watching the paper strips.
Alain, sitting forward in his seat, cleared his throat. “You aren’t suggesting that we would poison Becka?”
Saige didn’t miss a beat. “It’s not personal. I’ve been directed to test all of Becka’s food, no matter the source.” She turned to Becka. “You’re clean, drink up.” She drifted back towards the door, blending into the background.
Alain’s expression soured and Becka had the impression that Saige’s explanation hadn’t placated him.
Becka lifted the glass and toasted them, before taking a sip of the refreshing, sweet beverage.
Alain appeared to force a smile, but his expression remained tense. “How are you recuperating from the poisoning?”
“I got lucky. Besides feeling like someone has knocked me off a horse, I’m otherwise intact. I can’t say the same for Vott.” A shadow of guilt moved over her, settling in her chest.
“We are all deeply concerned for his welfare,” Alain replied. “I’ve offered House Hawthorne’s support to your healer, but please let me know if you think of any way we can be of further assistance.”
Becka couldn’t imagine what fire elementalists could do to help Vott in this situation. “I’ll leave the healing to the healers.”