Becka’s chest constricted. How could Maura send him away now, when they’d just learned about the shadow-dweller connection? Quinn had pulled rank on Rowan before, staying because Becka was technically not a member of the House.
Now she was. She looked back and forth between Maura and Quinn. Was there anything she could say to keep him here?
If he left now, how would she ever see him again? Quinn had become her friend, confidant, and so much more. The memory of his lips against the sensitive skin of her neck flashed through her mind. No, she most certainly could not use their budding affection to sway Maura to let him stay.
“With all due respect, Duchess, I do not feel they know enough about the case to fully manage potential threats,” Quinn replied.
“Well then,” she smiled, “Bring them up to speed before you leave.”
Chapter 25
“If you don’t mind,” Astrid said, standing, “I have something to announce.”
“Go ahead,” Maura said, gesturing for her to continue.
“First, I would like to apologize to Lady Becka for getting off on the wrong foot during our previous encounters.”
Becka couldn’t believe her pointy ears, but she reined in her irritation, convinced remain diplomatic would server her interested better. “Why apologize? You were acting in what you thought were the best interests of house and guild.”
“As you say,” Astrid replied. “I was, understandably, working under incorrect assumptions when we reconnected upon your arrival. I would like for us to be able to work together, so I am hoping you can look past my initial reactions to your abilities.”
“This seems like a strategic move on your part.”
Astrid’s ever so slight grin touched her eyes first and lips second. “I am unquestionably loyal to House Rowan. Where before you were an outsider, now your position has changed. And it would benefit our relationship to adjust accordingly.”
“I forgive you for the misunderstandings and your claims I was working against House Rowan. It’s an unusual situation. Definitely not something anyone could have imagined might happen. I do think you were acting in the best interest of our house.”
Maura and Vott gave approving nods, as did a number of her siblings; Calder was an exception.
Astrid smiled and sat back down at the table. “I appreciate your understanding.”
“What are you proposing?”
Astrid straightened in the chair. “I am the preeminent instructor of Illusionist arts here at the House of Mirrors.”
“I’m no Illusionist.”
“No, you certainly are not. You are…”
“I am a Null,” Becka replied.
Astrid raised a brow but she didn’t argue the point. “Yes, a Null, whatever all that entails. But there are no teachers for your craft.”
“I’m the first so it’s all new territory. There’s no formal guild for me to learn from.” Becka made a mental note to review folklore and fae custom for new emergences of magic, particularly any similar to her own. Perhaps hers wasn’t the first emergence of the Null. Perhaps it had only been forgotten due to lack of use or understanding?
“Despite not knowing Null magic, I am confident I can aid your journey.”
Becka remembered her first encounter with Astrid upon her return. Her fire. Her anger. “I do appreciate your conviction.”
“As head trainer for the House of Mirrors, I know how to evaluate a candidate's strengths and weaknesses. How to aid their focus. I have developed methods of intensifying will and accordingly, power and abilities.”
Becka met her gaze unflinchingly. Astrid’s eager interest was palpable.
“I can help you to understand and explore your powers,” Astrid replied. “Help you test out the limitations and range. Perhaps, in time, help you control them.”
No doubt Astrid had a level of prestige on the line. What were the bragging rights to training a new lineage, Becka wondered? However, she wasn’t likely to get a better offer, especially from one who was so motivated to make her house look good. If it didn’t work out or Astrid’s intensity got to be too much for her, would Becka be allowed to seek out someone else?
“I’m sure you have a great deal to offer as a trainer,” Becka replied. “But what if it’s not a good match?”
Astrid frowned, cocking her head a little to the side. “If that unlikely event were to occur, I could recommend another for you to work with.”
“I recognize your proposal is a generous one, but I need some time to consider.”
Astrid’s smile faltered. “I doubt you will get a better offer.”
“I’m not doubting your skills.” Becka held up her hands. “This has been a trying week and I can’t say I’ve digested yet what today’s news means for me.”
All of a sudden Astrid’s features softened. “Oh, of course, it has. I admit it is a tad gauche of me to offer while we are still under funerary observance for your sister. But please understand, I am concerned for the safety of you and those around you.”
“Safety?” A sinking sensation suddenly weighed down her gut.
“Being unaware and untrained as you are, you have managed to damage the funerary shroud and break the Unbreakable. Much of this house has magic woven into its very walls. There are those who rely on magic for health and quality of life issues.”
Back in the cities magic had been an uncommon thing. Few admitted using magic or magical tools except for some wealthy humans who had the money to afford the financial and the prestige to manage social costs. The stigma of the risk of normalizing magic, and thus the fae, endured decades beyond the Great War.
Here amongst the fae, magic was so commonplace. Becka had noticed things, but not thought anything of it. Sure, she’d assumed some of the elaborate clothing was illusory and that the amazing food served daily was grown with nature blessings and spiced with a smidge of enchanted flair. But Becka hadn’t failed to notice the simulacrum hand used by an Elder at the feast, no doubt created for them after the
