Alain stepped forward, meeting Becka midway between the two groups. They stood for a moment staring each other down. She didn’t understand what he was doing, but the formality inherent in his actions gave her pause.
Becka spoke first, hoping to deescalate the situation. “Duchess Maura informed me we’d be meeting soon. Would you like to walk with me to the council chambers to discuss reparations?”
“The opportunity for civil discussion passed when you stripped my cousin of her powers.” He reached down and pulled a scroll from his waistband, held it between his fingers for a deliberate moment, and then held it out to her. Not as an offering, but as almost as if he were striking a blow.
Becka had a moment of hesitation, looking from his eyes to the scroll, and then back to the cutting glare within his eyes. She held his gaze as she reached out and received the scroll into her gloved hands. She took it delicately, as if it might explode in her fingers if she mishandled it.
Alain grasped one hand in another, his chin cutting toward Hanna, who came to stand beside him.
“Becka of House Rowan, our engagement is broken. This document comes from Duke Eldinrod; I will deliver another one to Duchess Maura at the council chambers next, but I wanted to ensure you received the message first, and from me directly.”
Becka’s heart leapt! She’d hoped for an out to this arrangement, and the moment had finally come. But it was only due to the harm she’d dealt Hanna, who stood, arms crossed, glaring at Becka.
“I thought the engagement was a binding agreement and couldn’t be broken?”
His voice was hard as honed steel. “There are provisions in most contracts that allow for one or both parties to cancel the agreement.”
She shook her head. “I’m familiar with the agreement. Which section are you referring to?”
“House Hawthorne has issued a statement declaring you unfit and has advised other houses to follow our lead and not permit you within their territories.”
Heat flushed Becka’s face and Hanna smiled cruelly at her reaction. An aching sadness filled Becka, and although she didn’t want to believe him, the accusation in his words hit her so hard in the solar plexus that Becka had to take a moment before she could breathe in again. She’d once considered outcast a horrible term to own. Unfit felt even worse.
Astrid had been wrong. Hawthorne’s declaration named Becka’s power a weapon and asked the other houses to take a stand. What fae would risk contact with her? Perhaps, as Astrid had said earlier, only the desperate.
“Unfit? How…”
He cut her off. “You’re a danger to your own kind. Your house appears too blinded by the potential of the unique nature and raw power of your gift to realize you’re an uncultured loose cannon who will destroy everything she touches.”
Is he right? Was House Rowan so blinded by the monetary nature of her gift to see her potentially destructive power honestly? She did her best to keep her expression neutral despite the anger, frustration, and pain bubbling beneath the surface. All eyes watched her, waiting for her reaction.
“All right,” she replied, endeavoring to keep her voice steady. “But how does this unfit claim break our engagement contract?”
“House Hawthorne contends that since you are unfit, you therefore cannot be the heir to House Rowan.”
Becka pursed her lips. What impact will Hawthorne’s declaration have with Maura? The council? Other houses? How many houses could House Hawthorne turn against Becka, and by extension, House Rowan?
Becka thought she could see the specter of reconciliation give her the finger, turn, and then saunter off. Calder had been right, waiting for Maura’s oversight had been a mistake. Although even if she had acted promptly, Becka doubted the outcome would have been much different.
Perhaps I can still reason with him? I have to try.
“Alain, please. Let’s not act rashly.”
He smirked. “On the contrary, our action is well-reasoned and grounded in evidence.”
Becka tamped down a flare of anxiety. She was determined to try harder. “It was an accident, an awful one, and I harmed your cousin. I am sorry for the damage I have caused. Please, let’s find a way to move past this, for both our houses’ sakes.”
He rolled his eyes at her. Actually rolled them! “This is standard diplomacy, Becka. Not that I expect you to be familiar with standard fae culture.”
Becka’s composure shattered, she raised her arm and took a step towards Alain, pointing. “I am not…” she started, but a moment later Quinn and Brent grabbed her and pulled her back. Becka shook them off, confused, forgetting what she’d been about to say.
Alain assessed Quinn and Brent, surprise clear upon his face. “I’d heard you both were fearless, which you must be to touch this volatile creature without hesitation.”
“I can control my gift!” Becka’s raised voice carried the length and breadth of the long hallway. “I couldn’t have known I would be tossed onto Hanna while my gift was peaked.”
“No. You can’t control it,” Hanna replied. “Or have you forgotten the irreparable damage you’ve done to me and my house by your lack of control?”
“I haven’t,” she replied. “And I will never let myself forget the harm I have done to you. But throughout fae history there have been magical accidents, especially with potent gifts.”
“After my injury, I convinced Alain that the dangers to his gift and his life were too great,” Hanna said. She leaned in, fearless as only those who’d already lost it all could be, and whispered to Becka, “What do you imagine will happen to your lovers when you lose control in the throes of passion? Have you no conscience?”
Becka took a step back, Hanna’s words a frightening image she had yet to consider. “I have hurt no one! I mean besides you.”
Hanna turned to Becka. “Who would mate or marry you, knowing the price might be the loss of their powers? Our gifts are the very heart of what elevates us above the other races. No wise fae would risk it.”
“I swear, there have been no other accidents. I haven’t damaged anyone else,” Becka repeated, not at all liking the direction this conversation had taken. Yet the truth of Hanna’s words lingered. Who would want a partner who might maim them in a careless moment? “Haven’t any fae within Hawthorne had magical accidents?”
Alain’s countenance softened. “But we’re here to discuss you right now, not them. It’s not your fault, Becka. None of us chose the gifts our bloodlines bestowed on us, and for a select few, it’s overwhelming. But others are due warning, and since your own house won’t do the right thing, it forces House Hawthorne to step up for the greater good.”
Becka remembered stories she’d read from her childhood of gifts so powerful they drove their vessels mad. Not everyone learned to control or manage their gifts, no matter how much training they had. Some got drunk on their power, it was so potent. Some lamented away their days, unable to use gifts without fear of harming those around them. In those tales, some were locked away. They sent others to live in hermitages far away from those they might harm. And still others took their lives to protect those around them.
She shivered at the thought. Astrid believed Becka had adequate control, but did Alain have a point? Were Astrid and Maura blinded, uncaring about what might befall those unaware within Becka’s immediate vicinity? But surely no! They’d sounded rational and reasoned over how to approach hiring her out and being cautious with the jobs she’d take.