Gemma wryly lifted an eyebrow. In love with me, indeed. Now that the original is here, there is no need to settle for a lesser, like me.
“Enchanters and enchantresses generally have highly specialized types of core magic, too, and they are typically very powerful,” Stil added. “Angelique’s Master is considered to be one of the greatest magic users since the Snow Queen. He was the youngest enchanter ever approved,” Stil added. “But we are getting off topic. Angelique, I know you can destroy the rider with your core magic.”
“Perhaps if I was approved to use my core magic. The Conclave still hasn’t agreed to it,” Angelique said. For Gemma’s benefit she added, “My apprenticeship was and continues to be unusual because my core magic makes most…squeamish.”
“I see,” Gemma said, politely refraining from further questions.
“Regardless, I am certain I could drive the rider off for a time,” Angelique said. “Although we will have to be careful. The forest is crawling with soldiers.”
“Pardon?” Gemma said.
“They’re King Torgen’s men. At first I thought they were the followers you referred to in your letter, Stil. But now I suppose they are searching for you, Gemma?” Angelique asked.
Gemma shifted uncomfortably. “Yes,” she said.
Angelique smiled. “Do not worry yourself over it. You are safe in Stil’s home, and the border is but a short ride away.”
“Is it? That’s a relief,” Stil said. “It feels like molasses runs faster than Pricker Patch is willing to move.”
“Perhaps Pegasus can speak sense into him, although I fear he is growing to be just as ornery as your donkey,” Angelique said. “The time away from Master Evariste has been hard on him.”
Stil shrugged. “Pets,” he said. “But, it would appear we are here for the night, so we should enjoy it. Tonight we will have a feast,” Stil promised.
“I look forward to it,” Angelique smiled.
“It will take me a while to get everything ready. Do you need to see to Pegasus or anything?” Stil asked.
“No, but if you do not mind, I think I would like…rest for a while,” Angelique said, standing up.
“Certainly. Any of the rooms are open—except mine and the frost room,” Stil said, finally releasing Gemma. “Take all the time you need,” he added, calling over his shoulder as he left the parlor.
“Except for…Gemma, are you in the last room in the hallway?” Angelique asked.
“Yes.”
“Oh,” Angelique said, her eyes wide. She turned a thoughtful eye on Gemma and studied her from head to toe. “I’m glad you are so lovely. If you will excuse me, I will see you at our banquet.”
When the enchantress left, Gemma stood, alone, in the parlor, trying to organize her thoughts. “I’m lovely?” she snorted. She shook her head and looked around the room for the cape she made Stil. She didn’t see it—he must have carried it off or stowed it while she was fetching tea.
Recalling the cape made Gemma, unfortunately, recall Stil’s reaction.
“It’s just a phase,” she decided. “Now that Angelique has joined us, he will stop this foolishness.
“So, how long have you known Stil?” Angelique asked.
Gemma and Angelique were seated at a table in a dining room Gemma didn’t previously know existed. They had just finished the massive amount of food Stil—or, more correctly, Stil’s magical kitchen—had prepared for them. The craftmage was off getting dessert. Gemma didn’t think she had any room to spare, and she thought they had already eaten dessert between the fresh fruits, candied nuts, and pastries, but Stil insisted she eat more.
So, Gemma and Angelique sat together, waiting for Stil to return.
It was a little awkward, truth be told.
“A few weeks,” Gemma said, clasping her hands in her lap. “And you, Lady Enchantress?”
“I’ve lost track of the time, but years. Would you like to know more?” the beautiful enchantress asked.
Lacking any other discussion topics, Gemma nodded.
“My Master and I were traveling when we found Stil in a market in Baris. He was a youngster—twelve or thirteen I believe—and was selling stone beads. My Master recognized him for what he was and tried to get him to leave with us, but Stil was suspicious of him,” Angelique said, pausing to take a sip of wine.
Gemma nodded again to show she was listening.
“Eventually, my Master realized Stil found me less intimidating and instructed me to talk him around. I…managed it. We brought him to the school at the Veneno Conclave where he proved to be a veritable genius at craft magic,” Angelique said.
Is she trying to show that she knows him better? Or that she has first preference? That is silly. I am not in a position to be competition. I better make that clear.
“I see,” Gemma said. “It is obvious you have a bright relationship with Mage Stil.”
“Friendship,” Angelique corrected. “I flatter myself to say I am like an older sister to him.”
