Deep down, Evariste knew he had a duty. His magic would undoubtedly be useful in the coming fight against the Chosen.
But he’d survived so much pain and torture. Evariste didn’t know if he had the strength to sacrifice his relationship with Angelique, even if it was for the good of the continent.
A donkey’s bray eclipsed the swell of good cheer, and the sound inspired its companion donkey to bray as well.
One of the warriors he and Angelique had seen in the courtyard had brought the decked-out horse and its keg-filled cart inside the feasting hall. It stood placidly enough—it was the two donkeys the frequently-sneezing warrior had smuggled inside that added to the noise of the celebration with their happy but screechy brays.
Evariste leaned back in his chair and tried to discreetly massage his throbbing forehead.
I’m out of the mirror. I’m really out.
He felt a cold brush of magic and saw a line of silver curl around him. His heart sped up for a moment before he recognized the sharpness of Angelique’s magic as it encased him.
To his surprise, the boisterous noises of the celebration grew muffled and faded into a muted level that didn’t make his head ache.
He turned to Angelique—who was encased in the sound-reducing bubble with him.
She was sitting in her chair—balancing on the back two legs with a graceful casualness she’d never displayed before. When she felt his gaze, she glanced at him. “Roland taught me a few useful spells this winter,” she said. “I reverse-engineered one of them to muffle the sound of everything outside the bubble—thought it might be helpful if you’re feeling overwhelmed.”
Her thoughtfulness tugged at him like an insistent child.
She’d do this for anyone, he tried to remind himself. But she said my absence made her realize how important I was to her…
Evariste tried to shake the thought off. It wasn’t going to do him any good to build up hopes. Still, he was touched that she’d noticed and thought to do something.
He cleared his throat. “Thank you. The celebration is lovely, and I’m very glad for the noise, but…”
Angelique nodded. “I could tell it was getting to you. We can leave.”
Evariste shook his head. “No. I’d like to stay. I want to see people.”
“Very well. If you step out of the bubble, the noise level will return to normal.”
“I understand. Thank you.”
Angelique offered him a mischievous grin that made Evariste’s heart shudder in his chest before she set her chair down and stood up, leaving the bubble of quiet as she grabbed a lavender sprig from a decorative vase on the table. She leaned across the table and smacked one of the warriors on the face with it.
Evariste could hear her—though her words were muffled—as she shouted at the warrior. “That reminds me, Marzell. I owe you at least one garlic bulb to your face for all the grief you gave me about festering herbs!”
“My apologies, Lady Mage! Your disguise was too good—I never dreamed you were a powerful magic user!”
“Cute apologies now don’t make up for you constantly questioning me for using cooking herbs to heal wounds when all I was trying to do was hide my magic!”
Evariste chuckled—he’d heard a limited story of Angelique’s time with Princess Snow White and the warriors when she’d explained why she looked the way she did.
She’s happier. She isn’t approaching anyone here like she’s expecting to be kicked—or rejected.
Yes, coming out of the mirror and experiencing fresh air, true light, and noise again had been something of a shock to Evariste. But he was entirely unprepared for Angelique’s dramatic transformation.
She’d gone from a clever but relatively timid apprentice that held rigid expectations for herself and treated everyone like an audience member she had to fool, to a confident—albeit slightly jaded—enchantress who suffered no one and held back nothing.
She has friends, he thought as Princess Snow White called out to Angelique with a smile. Her countenance now makes me realize just how much growing she had to do when I made her take the practice examination to become an enchantress.
He wasn’t jealous—rather, he was happy for Angelique’s sake that despite all the pain and trials she’d been through, she’d grown as a result.
However, her confidence and her casual air (something she’d rarely shown him before) were intoxicating. He’d missed her laughter and smiles so much in the mirror, and now he came back to an Angelique that was surely his equal in terms of power and abilities.
I’m not sure how to react to it. Rather, I’m not sure how I should appear to react to her transformation—because I’m certain mooning over her like a lovesick fool is not appropriate.
Evariste sat up straighter and went back to picking at his food.
Duty first: save the continent. Evariste glanced sideways at Angelique as she re-entered the spelled area and sat down in her chair. I’ll have to free my magic—I just hope I can find an alternative way.
Chapter 32
The party went on into the late hours of the morning. Angelique had assumed Evariste would want to retire, but he seemed to be very much against sleeping, so they remained at the feast—though they retired to a space directly in front of the fireplace so they wouldn’t be in danger of getting fallen on once Lord Aldelbert began a table-dancing competition.
As the hours wore on, Angelique gave Evariste a highly abridged version of what she’d experienced while he was gone—going over everything from Severin’s curse to the freeing of the elves from Alabaster Forest, to the Council’s constant summons before she’d finally fought back.
Evariste told her pieces of what he’d observed about the Chosen, but Angelique suspected Severin would understand more of what his observations meant for the continent than she could.
Once the party had finally ended, Snow White had very sweetly asked Angelique if she, Evariste, and the Warriors would sleep in Queen Faina’s chambers that night—a last ring of protection from the threat of the Chosen.
Given that Angelique had been wracking her brain for a way to let Evariste sleep in a safe manner that would satisfy her, Angelique agreed.
So as the Seven Warriors scuffled among themselves, fighting to gain the most desired pieces of furniture, Angelique set up the most powerful defense wards she could muster (along with several alarm spells) and completely unleashed her magic, then took up a guard position on the wall.
She’d stood there ever since as the hours ticked by and, guessing by the bits of light that crept in under the heavy velvet drapes, morning had come, and the sun had risen.
Angelique stifled a yawn. Her eyes burned with her need for sleep—she hadn’t slept much since Snow White had eaten that poisoned apple—but she stood straight, the coldness of her magic keeping her alert and sharp.
I cannot sleep—not until others are awake to stand guard.
The door opened, and Snow White tip-toed inside, bearing a tray with three steaming mugs.
Snow White picked her way through the wasteland of unconscious-but-still-breathing warriors—Aldelbert and Wendal had taken over a dainty sofa that looked like it couldn’t possibly hold them both. Gregori had chosen a crumpled sleeping position that meant his head was hanging off the side of the sofa he’d claimed, and Marzell was actually sleeping on the floor with one leg propped up on a delicate tea table.