Lady Pol’s butler had just shut the door to her apartment behind him when Dwayne asked her through gritted teeth, “What were you thinking?

“What do you mean?” Her Majesty’s future Royal Sorcerer toppled onto her lush embroidered sofa. “Myers, water.”

“Of course, milady.”

“I mean,” Dwayne stepped around Lady Pol’s third desk, a low table laden with books and papers, “what were you thinking when you gave that speech at the funeral? Clearly the respectful thing was to say and do nothing. And at lunch, why didn’t you say Souran honor comes with Souran curiosity instead of insulting your entire queendom?”

“And just now, why didn’t I let that Baron Whoever-She-Was say whatever she wanted instead of hitting her with a light spark spell?” asked Lady Pol from the depths of the sofa cushions.

“She was a countess and yes, answer that question too.” To be honest, Countess Auer was fine, only her wig was singed. “We’re supposed to be making allies, not enemies!”

Myers appeared with a cup of water. “Here you are, milady.”

“Thank you.” Lady Pol sat up, took the cup, and drained it in one go. “Another, please.”

Her apparent disinterest made Dwayne’s fists clench. “Do you not even care?”

“You two are being quite loud at a very late hour.” Odette strode into the living room, wrapping a thick purple robe around herself. “We’ve only leased the top floor, not the whole building.” She watched Lady Pol down another cup of water. “I take it the day went badly?”

“Oh, very much so.” Lady Pol made room on the sofa. “You can tell by how much young Kalan has been raising the temperature of each room as I’ve screwed up more and more. Myers, more water.”

“What?” Dwayne looked around, as if he could see evidence of it. “That shouldn’t be happening.”

“It’s not a concern.” Lady Pol accepted another cup of water from Myers, which she only half drained before continuing. “Unconscious manipulation of thaumaturgical elements is a sign of a mage’s growth.”

Dwayne’s head jerked back. “It is? I thought I was just-” He glared at Lady Pol. “Don’t change the subject.”

“Apologies.” Lady Pol smiled before finishing her cup.

Dwayne eyed her. She was still too calm. He’d challenged her and she was just sitting there.

Lady Pol gave him a look. “You’re wondering why I let you yell at me like that.”

Dwayne started and then nodded.

“I know my own limitations better than anyone else.” She grimaced. “Veiled comments frustrate me, blatant hypocrisies anger me, novel circumstances distract me, and dealing with any combination of those three exhausts me so much that I want to run off, find the nearest hole in the ground, and study cave paintings for the rest of my life. However, I know what it’s like to have your expressed concerns dismissed. Come,” she patted the seat next to her, “sit with us. Unless you’d rather stand?”

Standing in front of Lady Pol like this did remind Dwayne of the examination panel. He took a seat. “You’re really not angry at me?”

“Did Bart get angry at you for expressing an opinion?” Lady Pol shook her head. “Don’t answer that. I know he didn’t. He only kept doing whatever it is he wanted to do without telling you why. No, I’m not angry at you. I may seem calm, but that’s only because I’m very practiced at hiding frustration, and it helps that my magic isn’t tied to my emotional state. If you had scolded me in front of the Water Sage, maybe… Although I would have understood if you had.”

“Was young Gallus there?” Odette placed both feet on her lover’s lap. “She may have been a calming presence.”

“No, she…” Dwayne looked away, his heart pounding. “She’s unrelated.”

“It was probably the opposite.” Lady Pol let her voice drop to a stage whisper. “While I was having my little tantrum, they were conspiring next to the buffet table.”

“We weren’t conspiring!”

“Her parents thought so.” Lady Pol chuckled. “I’ve never seen Iona move that fast before.”

Only when Magdala had been pulled away had Dwayne realized how close she’d been and how both exhilarating and yet comfortable that was. While the memory evoked the kiss, it had been nice to just talk to her for the first time since that night. However, he’d been relieved when Lady Pol had had her “little tantrum” because there was something beyond just talking, something beyond even the kiss, something that haunted his dreams and left him sweaty and messy in the morning. He wasn’t ready for that something.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

He cleared his throat. “We talked and I told her I can’t afford the distraction.”

Odette and Lady Pol shared a look.

“What?” Dwayne asked.

Odette smirked. “Nothing. I’m certain your efforts to evade distraction will be entirely successful.”

Dwayne’s jaw set. “What do you mean?”

“Oh,” Odette’s smirk became a grin, “you are so much fun to tease.”

Lady Pol slapped Odette’s knee. “Stop that. Dwayne, you and young Gallus will be fine. While she did go out of her way to muck out her family stables, she-”

“She did what?” Dwayne felt sick. Obviously she’d wanted to meet him, and he’d thrown it back in her face. No wonder, she’d smelled like horse.

Lady Pol stared. “You didn’t know?”

“Oh, Lu,” Odette patted her lover on the head, “you can’t tell me to stop pricking his fingers and then go and stab him in the heart.”

Lady Pol cringed. “I don’t mean to.”

“What a pair you two make. And now,” Odette swung her legs off the noble mage’s lap and stood up, “I’m off to bed. Today was a busy day and tomorrow will be the same.”

Dwayne grabbed at the distraction. “What were you doing?”

“Reconnaissance mostly.” Odette stretched. “Mei has her work cut out for her; this city is a veritable hive and I have no idea how she’ll find her brother. Well, good night.”

When the bedroom door shut behind Odette, silence settled in between the two mages. All their efforts for the past two weeks - studying Vanurian funeral customs, researching local and visiting merchants, convincing Lady Gallus to host, holding Lady Pol’s sharp tongue, enduring questions about Dwayne’s intelligence, magic, intentions, pedigree - all of it had come to naught. While some of it had been their own limitations, the sudden influx of people at lunch stank of Thadden’s handiwork. Doubtlessly, he was scheming to leverage any of Lady Pol’s slip ups to his advantage. However, that strange discussion at lunch couldn’t be him since the baron wanted his provisional license system to stay in place and whoever was behind Ugo Sorgi wanted to tear down the very concept of the Royal Sorcerer’s Office.

Dwayne sighed. “I think you had to say what you did to Sorgi. We couldn’t let him question why we exist.”

Lady Pol sighed too. “Still, I need to be able to handle surprises like him better. I can’t let people like him or that countess provoke me.”

Dwayne shrugged. “Thadden probably told her to.”

“Ha!” Lady Pol’s laugh was dry and humorless. “She knew just the right thing to say to do so: that young Gallus and her team faked the Qe core Offering.”

Dwayne sat up. “What? That’s ridiculous. How would they even do that?”

“Right?” Lady Pol squirmed. “That doesn’t excuse me implying she was attempting to purloin her nephew. After that, things got away from me.”

Dwayne blinked. “Purloin her nephew?”

“That’s the more polite version. What I said implied something a bit less appropriate. Anyway,” Lady Pol nestled into her sofa, “you were right to be angry at me. Such behavior jeopardizes everything we’re working towards.” She raised an eyebrow. “You, on the other hand, require practice in expressing yourself.”

Dwayne shifted in his seat. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Young Kalan,” said Lady Pol sternly, “you’ve mastered the art of projecting calm and acting like what we Sourans say to your face doesn’t affect you. That’s good for society, but terrible for your magic. You are a Ri mage. If you don’t learn to express your emotions, sooner or later your magic will express them for you.”

Warming rooms was probably only the start. “You’ve studied Ri mages?”

“Only one.” Lady Pol’s eyes went distant. “Chika.”

“You knew her?” Dwayne leaned in. “What she like?”

“She was a pure force of nature and the only person I’ve ever known who could cow Iona or keep Bart on task. She used to tell us how much of a relief it was to just be herself around us, and that’s why,” Lady Pol’s eyes met Dwayne’s, “it’s good you yelled at me.”

“Really?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I would prefer it not to happen again, but you need a place for you to be you.”

“I see.”

“You will. Young Gallus has her father’s smarts, her mother’s determination, and her lord uncle’s fixations so you’ll be facing your feelings sooner rather than later.”

Dwayne blinked. “What?”

“You’ll see. Now,” Lady Pol placed her empty cup on the table, “let’s talk about our other problem.”

So, she’d noticed. “Sorgi isn’t alone. He’s sheltering the Lo Ducas here in the city.”

“Oh?” Lady Pol sat up. “How do you know that?”

“Rodion told me.” Dwayne gestured at the window. “That means he’s connected to the robbery in the Royal Secretary’s Office.”

“And the robberies of those mage families and the attack on Sanford and the murder of that poor windsong.” Lady Pol shook her head. “It can’t be Thadden. He’s a hidebound fool who finds it inconvenient he was born a mage, but he abhors doing violence.”

“We still have to counter him,” said Dwayne. Thadden had gone quiet since the Harvest Ball. “We need more people on our side.”

“We have time to deal with him. While he has the favor of Her Highness and the whole of the Royal Secretary’s Office, losing you was a significant blow. He’ll need time to recover.”

“Was Countess Auer just feeling things out?”

“Probably.” Lady Pol’s eyes narrowed. “As for Sorgi’s mysterious backer… We need more information.”

“Mei is on that.”

Lady Pol cocked an eyebrow. “You think she’ll come through?”

“Yes.” Mei had faced down dragons, bewildering visions of the past, and a horde of mareoneda. She could deal with this. Dwayne had total faith in her. “She’s our best chance.”

Lady Pol winced. “I suspect she’s our only chance. In the meantime, we’ll come up with something big to show our strength.”

Dwayne went still. “You mean like a bigger lunch?”

“No,” Lady Pol grinned, “I mean something big, something so big that it’ll put us right back on our feet, something that only the Lightning Bolt of the East and Soura’s premier Ri mage could cook up.”

“Okay…” Her confidence somehow wasn’t reassuring.