rising, but he didn’t need to be able to do that. What he was using was a day. “If I make the land and air feel like the start of March — the second week of March — the end of March — the beginning of April — ”
Finally, he found the ideal day, the 17th of April. If he caused the entire border on the Waldenstein side to think it was that date, the deep snow that was there now would quickly become mush. The longer he held the spell in place, the more snow would melt, and the deeper the mud would become. Soon it would become impossible for wagons and heavy horses to pass — and if they could not, then so much for the passage of the Waldenstein army.
That took care of the date they needed to match.
Then came a much more mundane calculation — how deeply into Waldenstein lands should he go to make a proper barrier that would serve as a deterrent? He wanted to cover enough territory that it really became a slog, but he didn’t want to affect more than that, because this was going to throw off the whole growing season within that area for at least a year.
Then, because of course, as soon as this started to happen — although it was a very novel technique — Waldenstein magicians would know what he was doing, and try to counter it, he began computing the countermeasures to their countermeasures.
And when all of that was done, the magical parameters had to be calculated all over again, adding the powers and abilities of more magicians.
Eventually, though, they had to stop. “Enough,” he said. “We have enough for the Godmother. There is no point in spending too much time on something she will either approve as it stands, modify or throw out altogether. It is weather magic… It is nothing you trifle with, and for all I know, she’ll decide that instead of being subtle, this situation warrants calling in a flight of dragons — or, more likely, calling a half dozen more Godmothers and setting up a Winter Carnival on the spot.”
“A — You’re joking.” She looked at him askance.
He shook his head. “Not a bit of it. She’s done it before. And who would dare bring an army across a spot full of Godmothers?”
“No one in his right mind,” she agreed, and found herself yawning. “My head is full, and my eyes are starting to close by themselves.”
“Mine, too.” He looked at her across the little table they were working at, and then, unexpectedly, leaned over it and kissed her.
At first, her reaction was surprise. This was not the first time that a man had kissed her — although she had no serious suitors now, she had had three before the twins came of age. Well — they were serious, even if she hadn’t been. One had been a tentative kisser, one a demanding kisser and one had kissed her as if it was a duty.
Sebastian was nothing like any of them. He was confident without being demanding, and although she sensed he would withdraw immediately if she reacted poorly, she could tell he was enjoying this.
So was she…
A wonderful wave of warmth enveloped her.
Quite a lot…
She closed her eyes and leaned toward him, just allowing herself to feel instead of think.
It was very, very nice. It was more than nice. Her lips parted a little, and he licked and nibbled at them, sending all manner of pleasantly thrilling sensations up and down her body and —
Slowly, regretfully, he drew back. “I think I had better — we had better — stop now,” he said. “Before things get quite enjoyable, extremely messy and potentially damaging to glassware and papers.”
Feeling a little dizzy, she realized that she hadn’t taken a breath in quite a while. She did so, and stood up straighter. “Oh, my,” she said. “Ah — yes.”
He blinked at her. “Erm…yes, what?”
“Your question. The one you asked me about. The answer is yes.” She took another deep breath. “I realize that just having been kissed…like that…I am probably not in my right mind to be answering it. But having just been kissed like that more or less is the answer and I — ” It was her turn to blink. “Bother. Too much talk, more kissing.”
And she leaned across the table and kissed him.
The result was not damaging to glassware or papers, although it did take a little careful maneuvering to a spot beside the hearth, a huge, ancient bearskin where they could sit and continue the experience without wreaking havoc. It didn’t — a little to her regret — get to the point where there was clothing flying about, but it did get to the point where buttons were unbuttoned, some laces were undone, and there was a certain amount of damage to hair and quite a bit of skin exposed. There was not enough goings-on to have caused a torch-bearing mob to descend in fear of werewolf cubs appearing in a few months, but there was enough to make her quite, quite certain that the first kiss had not only not been a fluke, it was the harbinger of better things to come.
She let Sapphire help her the rest of the way out of her clothing and into a nightdress and robe in a bemused and preoccupied state of mind. Was it too early to hint about this to her father? Probably not. He could very well get annoyed with her if she didn’t give him some warning, and her letters of late had been more full of the patrols with and without Eric than they were of Sebastian.
That might have been giving entirely the wrong impression.
Honestly, as long as she was happy, he probably wouldn’t even put up a token objection.
But there was something else she hadn’t been telling him. While she’d talked about Sebastian working magic, and her own work in the stillroom, she hadn’t exactly told him, “And by the way, Father, it seems I’m a sorceress.”
