She wasn’t blind to the potential that, as heir, she could hold great sway. She’d have even more power as the future duchess, although that time would be decades away from now.
But Becka didn’t want to wait. She didn’t want to be patient. Her fire for change was in the present, not some distant, untouchable future.
However, when she’d had conversations with Astrid and Maura about her desire to have more control over her life, they’d both shot her down. Becka had been told she was pushing for too much, too fast, and to wait until her gift was under control before asking these questions.
They passed a young man in the hall dressed in the dark tan and green colors of House Oak. He stepped to the side and bowed as they passed.
Becka skirted around him, lost in her own thoughts.
During the past few months as she’d spent day in and day out with her shifter guards, Becka had grown to enjoy their company and had encouraged their candor. Luce had been the one who’d warmed to her most quickly, but even then, it had taken over a month to convince Luce that Becka didn’t want to be treated like some fae princess but rather as a respected peer.
The process had involved a certain quantity of whiskey. Happily, House Rowan’s stores were ample.
“Did you mean to slight the House Oak youth?” Luce asked under her breath.
Becka glanced back, but the fae had already continued on his way. “Ugh, I’ve lived for so long around humans. I forget I’m supposed to nod to everyone.”
“Just add polite decorum to the list of customs you’ve forgotten.” Luce shook her head.
Becka laughed along. “Well, aren’t we extra cheeky today?”
“What are you going to do, report me to Vott?” Luce waggled her brows, and Becka laughed again.
“You know I don’t toe the line. Why would I expect you to?”
Luce nodded. “That’s one of your redeeming qualities.”
They rounded the end of the hall, entered the stairwell, and then proceeded up towards the rooftop gardens four floors up. Becka loved this staircase with its ornate woven metal banisters and white stone risers. Missing her normal exercise regimen, she loved to pound steadily up and down all four flights at least once each morning. Her shifter guards appeared to like the activity, but she got plenty of raised brows from fae who considered it unseemly behavior.
At the top of the stairs, windows lined the outer wall, filling the space with bright beams of moonlight through the quiet evening air. Cautious about the conversation to come, Becka paused at an ornate gilt stained-glass doorway, peering out onto the open-air rooftop deck. Pergolas laden with wisteria provided a picturesque setting, inviting Becka to breathe long and deep of their perfume.
House Rowan really was a ridiculously gorgeous and well-maintained home. So why do I still think wistfully of my townhome in the city?
Becka knew why. In the city, she’d had freedom over her days. Over her life path. Here? As much as she wanted to belong, it felt like the responsibilities falling on her shoulders grew daily.
Maura wanted her on the council and Becka was interested in what that entailed, but as she wasn’t guilded yet, that step had been delayed. She’d worked to gain control over her gift, practicing daily, but didn’t feel like she was in control of how fast that mastery was approaching. Then there were the site visits to the farms and houses on Rowan territory to assess production and needs, but it still felt like foreign territory. And then there was her duty to marry per her house’s agreements, which was something she certainly could not bring herself to do, so Becka had dragged her heels.
With her keen night vision, Becka didn’t require any additional lighting besides the moonlight to see Vott reclined on a couch under the central pergola. When he saw her arrival, he rose to greet her, a broad smile affixed to his face.
Surprised by the tangle of nerves in her gut, Becka stepped forward and met Vott under the pergola. A couple of candles on the table cast a meager but warm glow around them.
“My dear Becka, thank you for joining me.” He took a step closer to her, but there was no hug or embrace.
“Of course, Vott. I’ve come to suspect you always know when I’m about to arrive. Since you can’t track me, how do you know?”
“It is true, your Null ability blunts the Oracular aspects of my Air Elemental powers, so tracking you has proven fruitless. However, I can still hone in on everyone else in the house. Therefore, I have learned to track you by association. Your guards, for instance.”
“That’s a clever trick,” Becka replied, glancing at Luce and Saige, who’d stepped off to the side but were still within earshot. She held Luce’s gaze for a moment, knowing she also understood the significance. Becka made a mental note to discuss Vott’s newfound skill with Quinn on their next call. If Vott had figured that out, so could the Shadow-Dwellers. Not that she’d encountered any hint of them in the months since the attack at Tesse’s funeral, but she hadn’t lowered her guard. Woden had said there would be more.
“Thank you. Please take a seat.” He gestured to the couches under the main pergola. The table was set with a pair of delicate earthenware mugs with a matching teapot, next to a pair of water glasses. “We can catch up on your progress.”
“What tea are we having today?” she asked.
He clasped his
