“Things?” The High Lady’s voice sharpened to a blade’s edge. “What precisely have you learned? And through what means?”
“Surely you did not imagine I would send Aurelise here unaccompanied, without some method of ensuring her safety?”
What?Aurelise’s mind reeled in confusion.
More rustling, and then she heard the High Lady’s voice, pitched with incredulity: “What exactly did you dispatch with her?”
Silence.
Then an incredulous laugh escaped the High Lady. “You sent one of your plants. Those tea house vines that excel at?—”
“Very well, yes,” Lady Rivenna interrupted, a note of defensiveness creeping into her tone. “I presented it as a gift, a reminder of home. But indeed, the vines have been whispering their observations, and what I have heard has been most?—”
The High Lady let out another laugh, a sound caught somewhere between astonishment and reluctant admiration. “Oh, Lady Rivenna. You are truly something extraordinary.”
But Aurelise barely heard her. Heat flooded her veins, and her breath came quick and shallow as she pictured the oversized teacup with its trailing green-gold leaves—the gift she’d cherished as a piece of home. It had beenobservingher?Spyingon her?
Before wisdom could intercede, she’d bolted upright and spun to face the two women, her hands clenched into trembling fists. “Grandmother! You have beenspying on methe entire time I’ve been here?”
The reaction was instantaneous and, under any other circumstance, might have been amusing. Lady Rivenna gave a startled shriek—an undignified sound Aurelise would have sworn her grandmother incapable of making—and clutched a hand to her chest. Beside her, the High Lady, wearing only a nightgown and wrapper with her pale blue hair tumbling loose about her shoulders, seized both arms of her chair, eyes going perfectly round in disbelief.
She recovered first, however, her eyes narrowing as she took in Aurelise’s presence. “What,” she asked in a voice that could have frozen flame as she slowly rose to her feet, “are you doing in here? How did you even enter? The enchantments on this room should have prevented it.”
“Prince Ryden gave me permission,” Aurelise managed, lifting her chin despite the trembling in her limbs. “He said I might come whenever I wished. And I … I needed somewhere to think, to process certain matters, so I was … hiding.”
She drew a steadying breath, hoping to call on that elusive courage Ryden seemed so sure she possessed.
“But I find I do not particularly appreciate discovering that you both have been manipulating and orchestrating my life behind my back. I would like to request—politely and with respect—that you cease your meddling at once.”
The High Lady’s eyebrows rose nearly to her hairline. “Oh, would you now?”
“Yes.” Aurelise dropped into a hasty curtsy, then straightened and raised her gaze once more. “With respect, Your Grace.”
“Aurelise, dear.” Lady Rivenna rose to her feet, apparently having recovered from her shock. She lifted her chin, striving to recover her usual formidable composure, but after a moment her shoulders lowered, and a flicker of embarrassment crossed her face. “I apologize for … well, manipulating and orchestrating, as you put it. I admit,” she added with a sigh, “it must have seemed an unforgivable intrusion. And perhaps it was. But I swear to you, my dear, it was done only out of concern. I was merely trying to look after you.”
Aurelise searched her grandmother’s eyes for some trace of manipulation and found only weary truth. She felt the edge of her anger begin to ease. “I understand, Grandmother. But I’ve learned I’m not nearly so helpless as everyone seems to think.”
“Well, be that as it may, I still believe it would be wise for you to return to Rowanwood House with me tonight. Regardless of whatever … spark might have developed between you and the prince, this is a matter of magical compatibility, not mere affection. Your magic remains fundamentally unsuitable?—”
“Actually, it is not,” Aurelise said at the exact moment the High Lady declared, “I believe you’ll find we were mistaken on that account, Lady Rivenna.”
Both women turned to stare at each other. “If you had not insisted upon interrupting earlier,” the High Lady continued, “I would have explained that Ryden and Lady Aurelise have discovered her magic provides precisely the calming influence we had hoped to find.”
She turned to Aurelise, her expression softening somewhat. “I apologize for dismissing your magic so readily at the start of the Season, though I hope you understand I sought only what I believed best for my son. As the days have passed and I have observed you, I find that you remind me greatly of my own mother—gentle and shy, yet so beloved by everyone both here at Solstice Hall and throughout the Shaded Lands.”
Heat bloomed across Aurelise’s cheeks at the unexpected praise. “I—oh. Thank you, Your Grace. That is most kind.”
She took a breath and turned to her grandmother, drawing strength from the High Lady’s support. “Her Grace speaks truly of the calming influence my magic appears to have developed. Moreover, I’ve consulted with Kazrian, and he believes he can craft an enchanted cuff that would allow the prince to carry a measure of my magic with him always, providing stability whenever needed.”
“Well.” Lady Rivenna appeared to brighten somewhat at that. “How remarkably convenient. Then there exists no requirement for you to marry the prince after all.”
“No requirement, no.” Aurelise kept her voice steady despite the emotions roiling through her chest. “But our feelings for one another?—”
“Aurelise, dear,” her grandmother interrupted with that particular tone of condescension that suggested she knew best, and Aurelise quickly discovered that perhaps her anger had not ebbed after all. “These feelings shall pass. I know what is best for you, and that young man is certainly not?—”
“No!”
The word rang out with such unexpected force that Aurelise shocked even herself. Both older women stared at her as though she’d suddenly transformed into something unrecognizable.