“Maura isn’t going to let me go.”
Quinn shook his head. “I do not think you are quite comprehending what is happening here.”
“Oh, I think I do.” Becka pulled her hair up into a bun, getting the damp strands off the back of her neck. “I’m once again a useful asset to Duchess Maura and House Rowan.”
“I doubt the possibility of you running away has even occurred to them. I mean, from their perspective, what fae would prefer to be anywhere but with their own people?”
“That’s a trick question from a man who lives and works between the worlds.”
He didn’t react to her sarcasm. “It is much more likely Rowan is moving to protect a valuable and unique asset.”
Becka harrumphed and walked past him. “I’m no one’s asset. I have my life. I have a new job to intern. A doctorate to earn. It’s not a perfect life, but it’s mine and it’s far away from here!”
“Are you...wallowing?” He arched a brow her way. “Because, as impressive as your newfound gift is, I do not feel it rates this level of moping.”
“I am not a wallower!” She let out a short, drained laugh. “Or a moper! I’ll have you know I come from a long line of non-wallowers. Excuse me if I needed a few minutes to process,” she replied.
His eyes glinted with amusement, but he matched her serious expression.
Becka spotted Calder round the end of the row and heading their way. His stiff smile could have been painted on and he walked like a man returning to his prison cell.
“Oh gods not again,” she muttered. “Hasn’t today been long enough already?”
“Are you forgetting tonight’s dinner?” he asked. “You should steel yourself for another few hours of peak amusement.”
“Like I needed any reminder?” Becka stopped and waited as Calder approached.
It wasn’t lost on Becka that her subtle shifter guards suddenly reappeared and got closer.
“Becka,” Calder said. “I had thought I would find you here. I remembered how fond you used to be of the rose gardens, just like Tesse.”
What a horrible analogy, considering her twin just died out here a couple of days ago. Becka closed her eyes and rubbed her temples.
“Can I...help you with something?” she asked.
He didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. Calder’s gaze flitted back and forth between Becka and Quinn.
“Quinn’s not leaving, so just say whatever you’re gonna say.”
Calder’s smile was grim. “I fear we got off on the wrong foot. It has been a difficult time and I have not behaved my best nor given you the respect you deserve.”
She barked out a laugh, but then sobered at his earnest expression. “You’re serious?”
He paused a moment, but Becka didn’t have anything else to say. “If you are willing, I would like to try and start anew.”
Becka pursed her lips. “Why the sudden change of heart?”
Calder frowned, cocking his head to the side. “Things have changed. You are a member of House Rowan again and I do not want any ill will between the two of us.”
“Oh.” Becka shook her head in disbelief. “So you have to like me now, for the good of House Rowan?”
A flash of anger hit his features, which was quickly replaced a moment later by his attempt at a stoic mask.
“Are you declining my offer?”
“Not at all,” Becka forced a smile. “I accept your offer. I understand it may not be genuine, but I appreciate the de-escalation of conflict.”
Calder painted the smile back onto his face. “My gratitude, Becka. I hope this heralds a new chapter between us. Would you like to walk with me back to the manor? The hour for dinner approaches.”
“I’m going to finish my walk, but I’ll see you there.”
“Very well,” Calder replied, not appearing disappointed in the least with her refusal. “Good day.”
As he strolled away, Quinn chuffed. “Why in the world did you agree to Calder’s request?
Chapter 23
Becka continued her stroll, this time paying attention to how the numerous guards moved in synchrony with her changes in direction.
“Have you forgotten he’s still on our potential suspects list? Not to mention being one of the more unreasonable members of House Rowan,” Quinn said.
“Oh, I don’t buy his redemption for a moment either. However, anything has to be more pleasant than his bald-faced rage routine,” Becka replied.
He appeared to consider her statement. “I suppose so?”
“Look, if he’s playing nice perhaps he’ll be more likely to let down his guard. Or at least I can have longer conversations with him.”
“Perhaps. The more amenable he is the more likely he might let something slip. Interrogations are difficult because suspects have their guards up. If he calls you family, perhaps his words will flow more freely.”
“And more politely,” Becka replied. Quinn laughed. “Well, I can always hope.”
They wandered for a few moments in blissful silence.
“Oh my gods!” Becka rubbed at the back of her neck, grateful to have her hair up in a messy bun during this summer heat. “I need a name for whatever this gift of mine is!”
Quinn tilted his head to one side. “I am no expert with protocol in these matters, but may I suggest you take the lead?”
She paused, digesting his words. “You mean, just name it myself?”
“If you do not, the testers will.”
Becka sighed. “And then I’ll have to live with whatever they use. How does destroyer sound?” she said, saying destroyer like a superhero in an adventure film.
He grinned before quickly concealing it with a frown. “Destroyer might not give the most upbeat of impressions.”
“Hmm. Smasher?”
He pursed his lips and shook his head.
“I’m not going with magic-breaker. The testers talked about how I nullify magic. How does Null sound?”
“Null has a nice, simple, yet powerful ring to it. And it lacks the emotional charge of the other terms.”
“Yeah it’s not as fun, but sounds strong.” She shimmied her hips and clucked her tongue. “Null, oh yeah.
