And on top of it all, I was also worried about the Chief Mage’s intentions toward me.
What if Comenius is right? I thought as I flopped down onto my bed, my belly full of beef stew and bread – yesterday’s leftovers by the smell of them, but at least I was getting fed. What if the Chief Mage’s interest is more than clinical? I thought about the fact that even though he was cold and dispassionate, he’d also shown me some kindnesses. I was out of those magic-suppressing shackles, he’d expended his own magical energy to heal me, and he was going out of his way to find my father.
Going out of his way? Are you kidding me? Finding your father is part of his investigation… he’s definitely not doing it for you.
A knock on my door derailed my train of thought, and I sat up as the scent of the visitor reached my nose – it was Elgarion. My heart rate sped as I crossed the room to answer the door – what did the Director’s apprentice want with me now?
I opened the door to see him standing in the hall with a candle in his hand. Ice filled my veins as I caught sight of the two guards standing behind him.
“What do you want?”
“The Chief Mage commands your presence,” Elgarion said stiffly. His dark eyes glittered in the candlelight, and I knew he was still thinking about the way I’d embarrassed him back in the storage chamber the other day. But I could hardly hold onto that thought – I was still stuck on the fact that the Chief Mage had sent for me in the evening, far earlier than I expected to see him again.
“Where?” I demanded as I reached for my jacket. My makeshift crescent knives and stakes were still in the pockets, and I was not going anywhere near those guards without them. “And why?”
“To his quarters,” Elgarion told me. “As for why, I cannot say. But he does not like to be kept waiting.”
As if I give a fuck about that, I wanted to snap, but I kept my mouth shut and followed Elgarion. He led me past the Chief Mage’s study and further back through a maze of corridors until we reached a door near the end of the West Wing.
“The Chief Mage will join you shortly,” Elgarion said, opening the door to reveal a large sitting room.
“Wait.” I hesitated, my foot on the threshold. “There’s no one here?”
“The Chief Mage insisted that this be a private meeting.” Disapproval was stamped all over Elgarion’s stony face.
“Then why did you bring these guards along?” I asked, incredulous.
Elgarion stiffened, then drew his robes around him. “Good night, Miss Baine.”
I gaped as he swept back down the corridor with the guards in tow, as the truth suddenly dawned on me. Elgarion, the apprentice to the Director of the Mage’s Guild, was afraid of me. Feeling smug, I grinned after Elgarion’s retreating shadow before I sauntered into the room.
The smugness faded as I looked around the large, empty chamber, which, while decorated in the Chief Mage’s colors, was cozier than I expected. The wall to my left was lined with bookshelves, and the one on my right was dominated by a large bay window that offered a beautiful view of the Firegate Bridge stretching across Solantha Bay. Couches made of dark, heavy wood and upholstered in blue and gold were grouped around a marble hearth where a roaring fire crackled. The flames illuminated the gold threading woven through the plush blue carpeting covering the floor, which sank under each step I took.
As I wandered over to the window to look out at the view, I realized that there were very few smells beyond the Chief Mage’s own scent and Fenris’s. He probably didn’t invite visitors here often. The realization only made me even more uncomfortable. What was so urgent that he had to call me in the middle of the night to his private chambers, that couldn’t be said in front of the guards?
The thoughts that question sparked caused my cheeks to flush and my palms to grow uncomfortably warm. Which was great timing, because the door to my left, at the far end of the room, opened, and Iannis stepped through.
“Sir.” I turned on my heel to face him, feeling incredibly off-balance. He was still dressed in the same robes from this morning, but his cherry wood hair had been freed from the confines of its queue, flowing freely around his oblong face, the ends flowing over his broad shoulders. The loose waves gleamed in the firelight, and I fought down a sudden urge to reach out and touch them. Was his hair as soft as it looked?
If that’s not the fastest way to get yourself incinerated, I don’t know what is.
“Sir?” He arched a brow as he came to stand next to me. The firelight behind him cast his features into shadow, making him look even more enigmatic and mysterious than usual. “Could it be that your time in the palace is actually teaching you some manners?”
I flushed. “My apologies,” I quipped. “I should have addressed you as Almighty Dictator.”
He frowned, not at all amused by my sarcasm. “I don’t understand why you aren’t fearful of me.”