As if stirred by her thoughts, her magic unwound. It layered the area so thickly, the air almost seemed to shimmer in the swiftly fading evening light.
She had half-expected Evariste to jump in and tell her that she needed to completely accept her magic—he’d done that before.
He surprised her greatly, though, by simply nodding. “You’ve come a long way.”
Something deep in her relaxed.
I will always appreciate how Evariste believed in me and supported me, but it would be idealistic to a foolish extent if he continued to insist there was no possible danger in my magic at all.
“Thank you.” She smiled at him, but it was strangely difficult to meet his gaze, so she looked away.
He kept his hands where they were on her shoulders, and Angelique squeezed the heat charm between her fingers as the silence stretched on.
He’s going to get cold, even if he’s not acting like it.
Angelique placed her hand on his wrist, sandwiching the charm between them. The gesture felt awkward, as did touching his hand when she tried to adjust to that position.
Evariste raised an eyebrow at her, and the desire to talk and fill the moment burned in her.
“Truthfully, the greatest danger of my magic is that there is so much of it,” she sourly said. “Whenever I use it, it always seems like it can continue to grow even though my mind is already cluttered with the dozens of weapons, and if I tried to use more, I’d likely fumble. It’s a gluttonous magic, really.” Angelique playfully scowled.
“You feel everything your magic touches?” Evariste asked curiously.
“Yes.” Angelique removed her hand from the awkward position and frowned a little as she tried to figure out where else she could touch him that wouldn’t feel…odd. “It’s easy to lose my concentration if it becomes too overwhelming.”
“Ah,” Evariste said. “And that is why I must apologize.”
Angelique peered up at him despite her good sense. “I beg your pardon?”
“I was pushy and clumsy in the way I handled your difficulties with your magic. I never stopped to think that handling your magic would be so different from mine.” The slant of his smile was tinted with sadness. “There is no danger in my core magic. If it grows out of control, the portal will collapse in on itself. The greatest danger is that I act foolishly and impertinently fling myself into an unknown realm without taking precautions, but that’s a personal decision. As your master, I didn’t even attempt to research war magic and discover how it would be an entirely different experience for you. In some ways, I was perhaps too young to be a good teacher when I took you on as my apprentice—though I would never regret it. I’m merely afraid you suffered in a few ways as a result.”
“No—never,” Angelique violently shook her head and grew more upset as Evariste’s gaze slid away from her. “The Council would have sealed me. You gave me the opportunity to use magic, something I assumed I’d have to give up forever.”
Evariste still wasn’t looking at her. Impulsively, she grabbed a fistful of his cloak on his chest and felt when the warmth of the heat spell bloomed. “You offered me friendship when no one else would. It took losing you to make me aware of all you did. I need to be thanking you, Evariste. For reaching out—for caring. I didn’t recognize it before, but I promise you I know it now.”
Evariste slid his hands off her shoulders. One rested on her hip, and the other skated down her arm, stopping to cover her hand folded in his cloak.
She gulped as she stared into his almost magnetic eyes—unable to look away even though the only thing that filled her mind was panicked internal screaming.
What is he doing?
“Angel…” Evariste said.
Angelique hunched her shoulders a little as her mouth mysteriously went dry. “Um…”
Chapter 31
A percussive clang pierced the air, followed by the rhythmic chiming of bells and beats on a drum that followed a musical pattern.
Angelique leaped backwards, almost dropping the heat charm in the process, then clumsily spun around to face the courtyard—the source of the noise.
Aldelbert and Oswald stood in the courtyard with a horse whose mane and tail were elaborately braided.
Oswald tied ribbons into the horse’s mane.
Aldelbert appeared to be playing an instrument of sorts: a thick staff that was nearly as tall as he was that was topped with a miniature cymbal and little bells. Two strings ran from the top to the bottom of the instrument, where there was what appeared to be a tambourine of some sort.
Aldelbert switched from beating on the tambourine portion of the instrument to jostling the stick to make the bells and miniature cymbal clang, creating a very loud and invasive beat.
Oswald and the horse didn’t seem to mind the bedlam. Oswald yawned—used to his friend’s eccentricities. The horse swished its tail as a few soldiers in uniform hustled around it, loading barrels (which Angelique assumed to be filled with alcohol based on the care with which they handled them) into a small cart that was attached to the horse.
Only a minute passed before Rupert stalked out of the palace. He marched up to Aldelbert, ripped the instrument out of his hands, whipped it over his head, and then slammed it down on the courtyard cobblestone.
The instrument gave one last resounding clang as it snapped in half—the tambourine flopping off and hitting the ground with a clatter.
“My Teufelsgeige!” Aldelbert placed a hand on his heart. “I was going to play that at tonight’s banquet to properly bolster everyone’s warrior spirit. Rupert! How could you?”
“You were assaulting the ears of everyone in the palace and insulting all musicians in the world!” Rupert said.
Oswald finished tying off another ribbon on the horse. “Why don’t you go roll in some hay and make yourself sneeze!”
“You obviously are unaware Wendal was practicing a horn accompaniment piece inside. He has remarkedly less musical sense than Aldelbert.”
“It’s one of his great flaws,” Aldelbert solemnly said.
Angelique had been leaning so far over the side of the balcony that the stonework poked her in the stomach. When she straightened up, she snuck a glance at Evariste. The lines around his mouth were relaxed in what was nearly a smile as he also watched the action play out in the courtyard.
His almost-smile wasn’t tinted with sadness; rather it was almost wistful as he watched the trio argue.
There are so many things that need to be done: I need to get word to Clovicus and Severin about what has happened. The alliance must be notified about the mirror, and I should especially tell Emerys that Evariste has been freed. Moreover, the mage the Veneno Conclave sent to investigate will eventually arrive, and I’d like to be gone before then. However…
The wind ruffled Evariste’s blonde hair, and despite the cold, he turned slightly so he was faced into it, his shoulders heaving as he inhaled.
He’s been through so much. I can give him a day or two. Once we leave…the dire circumstances mean we’ll never stop traveling. He needs this—and I want it.
Proving that he was exactly what he’d instilled into Angelique, Evariste sighed. “I imagine we need to begin sending messages. I didn’t learn much about the Chosen’s plans, but I learned a lot about their hierarchy and leaders.”