Becka smiled at Hanna, feeling genuine mirth. “I think we’ll get along fabulously, Hanna Hawthorne. Shall we get going?”
“Remember, Becka,” Maura said. “Leave the investigation to the enforcers and keep your focus on your duty to House Rowan.”
Like she’d needed the reminder? She’d understood Maura’s threat to Quinn’s career loud and clear. “There’s nothing else on my mind, Mother.”
“That’s not at all true,” Hanna replied, progressively looking more confused.
“I know, isn’t it exciting?” Becka smiled, her mood brightening. She took Hanna’s hand in hers, dragging the bewildered woman along with her. “We’re going to have such fun today.”
Chapter 10
It felt like a veritable host of guards trailed Becka as she walked the halls with Hanna at her side. She hoped her first council meeting wouldn’t be as dreadfully boring as she feared, but perhaps with Hanna along for the ride she’d at least have someone on her side, even if that side was also Hawthorne’s and Maura’s side.
Becka’s desire to avoid arriving at the council meeting early meant they’d walked in circles, but Hanna hadn’t complained.
“Who are they again?” Hanna whispered, leaning towards Becka.
“Which set of guards do you mean?” Becka asked, her voice at deliberately normal levels.
Hanna frowned. “Start with the ones who aren’t fae.”
“Sure. They are wolf shifter guards who are pledged to Vott. After the attack on me a few months ago, he assigned some to me. Shamus, despite looking so attractive and inviting, is a brooder, while Lorelai is the friendlier one of the pair.”
“I would not have guessed it,” Hanna replied. “My gift does not work reliably on shifters, thus why I asked. She looks so grave.”
She wasn’t wrong. Shamus, sporting a fresh frown, always seemed to be waiting for the other shoe to drop. His pate of wild curls and perpetual five o-clock shadow was worthy of a magazine ad. Becka had tried to get him to laugh, to no avail, so she mostly ignored him.
Lorelai laughed, the sound filling the hall. Becka looked back and the wolf was threatening Shamus with the end of her long braid. Sure, her angular features made her look perpetually stern, but her attitude was always upbeat.
“Nah, Lorelai is a blast.” Talking with Hanna, Becka realized she seemed different than other fae. Perhaps it was her focus on bringing joy to others, but she appeared to genuinely care about Becka, which came as a welcome surprise.
“What about the others?” Hanna asked, motioning to the guards.
Becka looked back. The fae guards were clad in their everyday uniforms, the standard tan form-fitting outfit with an Illusionists Guild sash running right shoulder to left hip.
Becka shrugged. “The fae guards? That’s Elena and Oba, part of the family house guard.” Her interactions had been relatively perfunctory with the house guards, who’d rejected her overtures of friendship. But why wouldn’t they? As the heir, they couldn’t relate to her without the customary deference lest they risk their jobs.
Hanna’s eyes widened. “Oh my! Are you in that much danger?”
“Yes, I’m afraid I am, but you don’t have anything to worry about.”
Most likely. Just don’t drink after me!
Ascending the stairs to the third floor of the manor where the council chambers were located, Becka watched a pair of Astrid’s students creating an elaborate waterfall illusion cascading down one side of the stairs and over the banister. The water danced as if a living thing, color-shifting through a rainbow as it hit obstacles, leaving nothing wet despite its appearance of being water.
Becka altered her course to the far side of the stairs, knowing an accidental footfall could break their illusions into dust. It wasn’t like she was stepping on eggshells to avoid conflict with her housemates, but neither was she oblivious to how other fae reacted with fear or caution to her approach. She tried not to take it personally, but she couldn’t deny the ache in her chest every time someone jumped out of her way or turned and walked away to avoid her. No one wanted to accidentally run into her, lest they suffer the consequences of lost time, effort, and intention.
The students, both male teens, eyed them with caution as they walked up the steps. She had seen them in the training hall but hadn’t yet learned their names.
“Don’t worry,” Becka said to them. “I won’t break it.”
The shorter of the two rolled his eyes at her. “I told you this was a bad location,” he said to his friend. “She loves walking these stairs.”
The other boy nodded back. “Let’s go.”
They turned and ran off down the stairs, leaving their illusion for her to appreciate. Becka made a point of staying out of its way. She was happy when she passed it without ill effect.
“So there is a fair amount of friction between others in your house over fear of your power?” Hanna said.
“It’s inevitable due to the nature of my gift,” she answered. “I may be valuable to the house, but people fear what they don’t know. They don’t know me, and they don’t know how my gift works.”
Hanna placed a reassuring hand on Becka’s arm. “That must be terrible for you.”
“It does suck. I wish I could step into a future date where that’s all behind me, but all I can do for now is wade through the murky middle.”
Hanna patted her arm and they walked in silence the rest of the way up the stairs.
The council chambers were conveniently located across from the top of the stairs. To her knowledge the closed doors weren’t kept locked, yet only council members and visiting dignitaries were allowed within. The ornately carved pine doors recounted the long history of House Rowan. She’d spent hours in her youth staring at the scenes and learning the stories. Becka recalled wondering what secrets were held within the chamber, knowing in her youth that one day, as heir, she’d be privy to the inner workings. But that day never came, as she was never guilded. When she was cast out, the loss of her potential inclusion within these hallowed halls had been the least of her concerns.
But now, standing with her gloved hand on the handle, Becka paused. Lorelai and Shamus backed off and stood across the hall, at the ready for when she returned. As shifters, they could not follow her into the chambers. Guards were not allowed inside. Elena and Oba, her fae guards, stood at attention against the wall down the hall, to silently await her re-emergence.
She turned the handle and walked into the room. Becka was met with a series of nods from the short list of fae inside. It was clear everyone had gotten the memo that she’d be attending, likely even before Maura had delivered the message to Becka.
She ushered Hanna in beside her and closed the door behind them. It took Becka a moment to absorb the room. Duchess Maura stood near an ornately carved chair at the head of an oblong table, which ran lengthwise nearly the full length of the room. The table was ringed by plush and carved chairs from the same material as the table, a lightly stained rosewood with a stunning sap grain, varying in ripples from beige to dark rose. Portraits lined the stone-walled room, images of former influential members from the house over the generations. The wall across from the doors was filled with bookshelves and tomes covered in a fine layer of dust, and predictably the scent of musty library filled her nose. On the wall with the doors hung a map, fifteen by ten feet in size, of the world of fae territories, each boundary marked with a distinctive and separate color.