Page 46 of Prince of Shadow and Ash

“Fine. For the baby.” She handed Minerva another roll and picked her own back up.

“I have to admit,” Min said between bites, “this is working well in Lord Hargreaves’ favor.”

Adelaide didn’t respond, but she had to agree.

Chapter 17

REGULUS SAT IN A LARGEarmchair in his room across from the small fire crackling in the fireplace, feet propped up on a cushioned stool. The orange light of the fire provided the only illumination now that the sun had set. He rubbed his thumb over the mark on his arm. Nearly three weeks had passed since he had returned from killing the dragon, and he hadn’t heard from the sorcerer. In the two years since receiving the mark, there had been times he had gone three months without the sorcerer contacting him. Still, if the sorcerer was too busy to bother him, what was he busy with?

The sudden appearance of Magnus’ large head in his lap pulled him out of his gloomy thoughts. “Hey, boy.” He scratched under Magnus’ chin. Magnus licked the rough, scarred mark on Regulus arm. “I’m afraid you can’t clean that off, buddy.” He pulled his sleeve back down and massaged Magnus’ big, floppy ears. Magnus stood with his head resting on Regulus’ thigh. As Regulus massaged his ears and the side of his head, Magnus closed his eyes and panted. Someone knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

Dresden walked in, his face like stone. “Care to explain this?” He held up a piece of parchment. Magnus left to rub against Dresden’s legs.

“Explain what?” Regulus knit his brows. “Is that a letter?”

Drez strode over and shoved the parchment in his face. “You left this in the dining hall.”

As Regulus’ eyes focused on the writing in the dim light, he recognized it as the letter confirming his entry into the Etchy Tournament. “Oh. That. I was going to tell you about that.”

“When? It’s in four days! We’ll have to leave the day after next!” Dresden dropped the letter in Regulus’ lap as Magnus curled up on the rug in front of the fireplace. “‘Oh, Drez, get ready for a trip. Where? The Etchy Tournament, time to go, no time to talk.’”

Regulus ducked his head. “Something of the sort did cross my mind.”

“Reg, there’s a reason you don’t do tournaments!” With a groan, Drez sat on the end of Regulus’ bed.

“I know—”

“Then explain! Did the sorcerer tell you he won’t need you for the next week?”

“Well, no—”

“So you could have to up and leave with no explanation?”

“That wouldn’t be so strange—”

---