Heat floods my cheeks. “The ones all over my ass and back? I’m good.”
He rolls his eyes. “I’m a medical professional, or I will be soon. Pre-med, in addition to being the Scion of Gawain, remember?” He wiggles his fingers. “Double healer.”
“So”—I puff up the pillows around my head—“you’re saying that I should feel comfortable getting down to my skivvies with you.”
“I’d never tell someone what they need to be comfortable with,” William says, his gray eyes thoughtful. “I was just offering context. If it helps, I’m happily in love and not at all interested.”
I grin, despite my fatigue. “Oh yeah? Who’s the lucky person?”
“He’s not Legendborn, that’s for sure.” William laughs warmly. “Dating inside the Order is nothing but trouble.”
I perk up. “Why’s that?”
“Bloodlines, oaths, inheritances? Pick one.” William pulls the table away and leans back against the other bed. “Pages can date Pages, easy. Squires dating Squires is fine, but tricky. A Squire’s job is to protect their Scion, and that bond is unbreakable, sacred. In battle a Squire can’t prioritize their partner’s well-being over their Scion, and the Warrior’s Oath is forever, even after the eligibility period ends and the inheritances disappear. Who wants to be with someone who’s already emotionally and magically bonded to someone else—for life?”
I grimace. “That sounds awful.”
“It is.” He whistles low. “You should hear the jealous snark that comes out of people’s mouths at the Selection Gala. It’s all Order grudges and gossip and drama. But even that’s just… awkward and inconvenient.” He shakes his head. “Dating Scions is a whole different ball game.”
I push up on one elbow, eager to learn more. “Why?”
“Sixty generations, give or take, of managing the bloodlines… It gets complicated. The Regents had to step in and lay down rules at some point. Order law forbids crossing the bloodlines, so no hanky-panky between anyone who could become a Scion or whose kids could become a Scion in the line of succession. If they didn’t prohibit it, there’d be babies with two, three, four lineages running around. It’d be chaos trying to track who’ll be Called next and how the bloodline will be preserved. It’s easier for couples where pregnancy is one hundred percent impossible. But for couples who could get pregnant? They’re screwed. In the not-fun way.”
“That’s…”
“Awful, I know. Though it’s sort of a modern fin’amor. The medieval ideal of courtly, ennobling love that can never be consummated. Very romantic concept back then. But today? There were rumors of a Scion couple at another chapter who hid their relationship, but the Regents have spies everywhere. They were caught. And punished.” He furrows his brow at that last word.
I know that, if I asked, William would tell me what the Regents do to the couples they catch, but the shudder that passes through his shoulders tells me I might not want the answer. The more I hear about the Regents and the more I hear about how much they meddle in both Onceborn and Legendborn lives, the more I hate them. No one in the chapter has spoken of the Regents without a touch of fear, or at least deference, in their voices. Not Nick, not Sel. Not even Lord Davis. Who are these all-powerful figures who keep the Order’s records, control its bloodlines, and send Merlins out in the world like demonic assassins and hypnotists?
I change the subject. “So… what about a Scion dating their own Squire?”
“Like Russ and Felicity? Or Tor and Sar?” William makes an iffy motion with his head. “Scions dating their Squires can work—but imagine breaking up and then being bonded to your ex forever. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather eat my own aether sword.”
“Ah,” is all I can manage.
“ ‘Ah,’ she says,”—William lifts a mocking eyebrow—“as if this is just idle conversation and has nothing at all to do with her relationship to one Scion in particular.”
“Shush.”
William laughs again. I like his laughter. It brings small crow’s-feet to the corners of his gray eyes.
“So”—he wiggles his eyebrows playfully—“shall I heal your ass, or are you still worried I’m gonna check it out?”
I sigh and reach down to tug my jeans off. “You can check me out if you want. I’m not not cute.”
“Ha!” he says. “I knew I liked you.”
Once I’m in my undies and on my stomach, William begins. The aether feels like heaven over my tender skin. I stifle a moan.
“You know,” William says thoughtfully, “while you’re not as banged up as one could be from facing multiple demons, your vitals were all over the place when they brought you in.”
Apparently somewhere between the graveyard and the Lodge, I’d passed out. Nick had carried me the rest of the way and then down the elevator to the infirmary. I’d woken up to Nick and William bickering over whether the would-be king could stay in the room during my treatment. Once I opened my eyes, Nick had grumbled and left William to finish his examination in peace. William sponged off the muck, disinfected the wounds, and got to work.
“I’d guessed at first that you would be in shock, but that didn’t quite fit. High blood pressure, increased oxygen levels, shallow breaths, dilated pupils. Typical signs of an adrenaline rush after a demon fight. I see ’em all the time. Fight-or-flight responses are inherently draining, and after an hour or so, vitals return to standard ranges. But your numbers were subnormal: pupils constricted, slow breaths, sluggish heart rate, low body temp.”
I chew on my bottom lip, remembering the shining red flames around my fingers and what Sel said about generating my own aether. “Is that bad?”
“ ‘Bad’ is a subjective term around here.” William hovers over a particularly painful spot on my lower back. “But it’s not typical. It was like your system had fired so intensely that instead of simply leveling out, it put you into hibernation.”
Firing intensely seems like the right way to put it. The very first time in the shower after the Oath, I’d been… terrified, overwhelmed, sad, but I’d been able to put it all behind a wall. Tonight I’d been angry in the graveyard, and terrified for my life with the hound, and the flames had faded away on their own. Sel’s right, I truly have no idea how this works, and I don’t have a lot of options for help. Sel has no interest in trying to help me understand, nor would I want to experiment with him to figure it out. I could tell Nick, but… he was pissed beyond belief tonight. And scared, after Tor’s Awakening. He and everyone else in the building are on edge. I don’t know if it’s a good idea to spring another surprise on him. Maybe Patricia—
The door opens, and Nick walks in. “Hey, Will, is—”
I screech and twist into a ball, pulling the thin blanket up over my entire body. It’s not fast enough. Nick’s face has gone summer-strawberry red. He definitely saw my butt. And my back. And my bra straps. And maybe some side boob.
He chokes out a strangled, “Um, sorry!” and disappears into the hall, slamming the door behind him.