[Ann’s POV]
After a final, steadying breath, I slid the door open and stepped back into the private room. My eyes imdiately went to Lady Ovelia. My heart gave a small, worried lurch. She wasn’t in her seat. She was sitting in Sir Ace’s lap, facing him, her head nestled against his shoulder, her body completely slack in the deep embrace of sleep. Sir Ace was looking out the dark window, his profile unreadable, but the way he held her—one arm securely around her back, the other supporting her legs—was not the grip of a re protector. It was possession. It was shelter.
"What happened to Lady Ovelia?" I asked, my voice low to avoid disturbing her, but unable to hide my concern.
"She’s just sleeping," Sir Ace answered, his tone brief, still not looking at .
But why in that position? The intimacy of it was stark. A thought, warm and unbidden, blood in my chest. Is Sir Ace finally showing his love for her? Openly, without his usual guarded reserve? I felt a smile trying to break through my own residual anxiety and quickly covered my mouth with my hand.
"Ann, I can see your reflection in the window glass," Sir Ace said dryly, finally turning his head just enough to et my eyes in the dim reflection. "Don’t get the wrong idea." The admonishnt was typical of him, but it lacked its usual sharp edge. It sounded more like a reflex, a habit of denial he was no longer fully committed to.
I simply nodded, lowering my hand, but I couldn’t completely suppress the small, hopeful smile that remained.
"Just close the door already and take your seat," Gale grumbled from the table, his irritation a familiar, oddly grounding sound.
He was right. I peeked back into the bustling hallway, scanning the faces of the passing staff and patrons with a quick, professional assessnt. No one lingered with undue interest. No flicker of killing intent was directed at our door. Satisfied, I slid the door shut with a soft click, sealing us in once more.
Sir Ray shifted on his chair, moving to the spot where I had been sitting earlier. I took the now-vacant seat beside him, which put directly across from Gale. As I settled, I felt his gaze land on , heavy and assessing. It felt like he was trying to peer past my eyes, to dissect the reaction he’d provoked earlier. He’s waiting, I thought, my stomach tightening. He’s going to ask about the Thaumamorphs again. I didn’t know the word, but the re thought of it now made my skin crawl and my wolf whimper internally. I couldn’t look at him.
"Are you okay now, Ann?" Sir Ray asked, his voice a quiet rumble beside .
I turned to him, grateful for the distraction. "Yes, Sir Ray," I said, forcing calm into my tone. He offered a faint, reassuring smile, and so of the coiled tension in my shoulders eased.
I let my gaze settle on Lady Ovelia. Seeing her peaceful expression, the worry-line between her brows finally smoothed away in sleep, was a balm. Whatever storm had raged inside her had passed, at least for now.
[Gale’s POV]
Just Ann.
The tight coil of defensive energy in my chest loosened, and the subtle, ready current of wind magic I’d gathered under the table dissipated with a silent sigh. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, the air leaving my lungs in a controlled stream. Crisis averted. For now.
But my attention didn’t relax—it refocused. On the woman now sitting across from . Ann. Her focus was fixed on Ovelia, a clear avoidance tactic. Fine. Curiosity, and a nagging need for data, prompted to act. I focused a sliver of my still-recovering mana and reactivated my fairy sight, just for a quick scan.
The unsettling dark aura that flowed through her was there, as ever. But unlike the violent, expanding storm I’d witnessed when she’d fled the room, it was now calm, a deep, placid river of shadow, much like it had been back in Thunoa. However, the mory of the taphysical parasite—the vile little creature born of unstable dark aura and dark mana that had latched onto Ovelia—was seared into my mind. That thing had co from her. The connection was undeniable, and it was a problem waiting to happen again.
"Gale." Ace’s voice pulled from my analysis. I looked at him. "What happened with the witch? The one in dark clothes who was following you earlier."
"Witch?" Ann’s head snapped up at the word, her attention finally fully on the conversation. Then, as if rembering she didn’t want to engage with , she quickly looked away again. Her skittishness was telling.
"I didn’t sense any mana from her," Ray mused, his analytical mind already at work. "She must have been using a mana-nullifying device. Any idea why she was tailing you?"
"Yes, she was using a nullifier. She wanted to buy the sealed elental mana stone," I explained. "The one I picked out, but Ace paid for it," I added, jerking a thumb in his direction.
Ray steepled his fingers, resting his chin on them. "So witches, especially those with an alchemical bent, are deeply knowledgeable about rare stones. It’s not surprising she recognized it even in its dormant state. What happened after you confronted her? Did she beco hostile?"
"Nothing of consequence," I shrugged. "She was greedy, but not dangerous. Turns out she was a child. No more than twelve."
"A child?" Ace’s eyebrows shot up. "But what I saw—" He cut himself off, his eyes narrowing as he seed to search his mory. "Gale, can you describe her? Her real appearance?"
I tapped a finger against my chin, recalling the brief, bizarre encounter. "Initially, she used a poorly-made age-alteration potion to appear as an adult. When it wore off, she reverted. Short hair, a mix of green and yellow. Eyes to match—yellow-green."
"I think that’s Filafelia," Ann said softly, recognition dawning in her black eyes.
"Yes, it’s definitely her," Ace confird, a note of exasperated familiarity in his voice. "My mother’s apprentice in spellcraft. A prodigy with potions, even at her age. She runs her own shop in the Silverhowl market district." He spoke as if this explained everything.
"So what?" I said, a flicker of my old irritation returning. "I don’t care who she is. It’s not my concern."
Ace just sighed, a weary sound, and turned his gaze back to the window, watching the blurred shapes of festival-goers pass by outside.
"Huh? Sir Ace was just giving you context about the person you encountered!" Ann said, finally holding my gaze for more than a second, a flicker of her old, blunt self returning.
"So what?" I shot back, the tension of the night making brittle. "Did I ask for a biography?"
"Stop fighting," Ray interjected, his voice calm but firm. A small, amused smile played on his lips as he gestured toward Ovelia, still asleep in Ace’s arms. "Ovelia is sleeping."
At that exact mont, as if summoned by the ntion of her peace being disturbed, Ovelia let out a soft, muffled groan. Her body shifted slightly in Ace’s hold. Her eyelashes fluttered against her cheek.
She was waking up.
Reviews
All reviews (0)