“She’s lying. I don’t have a sister.”
“Not only do you have a sister, but you have a twin. Miranda stated under oath that twenty-five years ago she was delivered of a living female child—one born before you, incidentally—who was then taken to Shadows. She also swore to the results of a Perdita spell, which confirmed Sydney’s parentage. The House itself officially recognized her this morning, in front of the required three witnesses from other Houses. I have affidavits from them, as well as an unedited video recording. You’re welcome to review any of it.” Madison slid a file and a tablet toward him.
He didn’t touch them. “I’ll have this undone.”
“You’re welcome to try. But not today. Your ten minutes are up, and I have work to do.”
“Bitch,” he said, and slammed the door on his way out.
Madison texted Sydney: Those extra wards you mentioned? I want them.
The response was almost immediate: Done.
? ? ?
The whiskey in Grey’s glass sloshed as he paced in front of Laurent’s windows. “Did you know? When you hired her?”
“I told you, I had no idea who she was. Do you seriously think I would have had your long-lost sister working for me for all this time and not bothered to tell you? She was the third magician I auditioned, and I didn’t look at any of the others after her because her magic was so strong. We didn’t talk about personal details—we didn’t then, and we don’t now, because that is her business and not mine. I don’t even know where she lives,” Laurent answered.
“She’s an accident of biology—if even that—not my sister, and she lives at my House now, doesn’t she?” Grey slammed his glass down on the counter, paying no attention to the liquid that spilled over the rim.
“I don’t understand why you’re so upset. You agreed to the disinheritance. You could have fought it. And Sydney could undo it—she’ll have to name an heir, and probably soon, with the Turning.” Laurent didn’t say the other things that he was thinking, that perhaps Grey ought to show a little bit of compassion for what Miranda had done to Sydney, for what the Unseen World had apparently been doing to its children for generations in order to make things easier for itself.
“I don’t want to be the heir. Again. The House should be mine. Maybe it won’t recognize her. Maybe it won’t even let her in the door. My bitch of a lawyer cousin said that it did, but she could have been lying.” He tossed back the rest of his drink.
“Is that likely?” Laurent asked. “I mean, listen to yourself.”
“All I know is that this woman came from nowhere, and now she’s the Head of a House. My House. She shouldn’t be allowed to be part of us, especially if she came from the House of Shadows. Do you know what that place is?” Grey sneered.
“Do you?” Laurent asked.
“The magic of Shadows is corrupt. It’s not like ours. Anyone who uses it can’t be trusted. Plus, Miles says she’s the reason for the failures of magic.”
Laurent knew he was going to regret asking, but he let the question out anyway. “How is that possible?”
“Because her magic should still be in there. She took it with her when she left, and now we can’t use it.” Confident in the righteousness of his theories.
“That sounds—you know what, never mind.” Laurent moved to the other side of the room, giving Grey’s rant a clear berth.
Grey didn’t seem to notice. “Prospero should be mine, and I’m going to take it from her. You can help me, or you can stay the fuck out of my way.”
The elevator pinged. Grey turned around. “Are you expecting someone?”
“Yes,” Laurent said. “Your cab. You’re drunk, and you’ve had a shock, and you’ve been my best friend for years, so I’m going to give you a pass and put you in a cab. Then I’m going to pretend this conversation never happened, and maybe we’ll still be friends tomorrow.”
Laurent pushed Grey gently into the elevator and stood away from the closing doors.
“You don’t understand,” Grey said.
No, Laurent thought, he didn’t. He picked up his phone to text Sydney and warn her about the man he had considered to be his best friend, someone who he was pretty sure was not going to be his friend tomorrow, or ever again.
? ? ?
The front desk rang up to Miranda’s room. “There’s a Verenice Tenebrae here to see you, ma’am.”
Miranda considered. “Send her up, please. Oh, and have the kitchen send up afternoon tea. Sandwiches and petit fours.” It was still odd to her, this having to request things from other people, rather than her House. Her mirrors all looked strangely empty, wordless and silent.
“Thank you so much for coming by,” Miranda said as she ushered Verenice into her suite. “Your dress is lovely. Is it vintage?”
“Still have your manners, I see. I hope you have a spine of steel to go with them. You’ll need it after losing your magic.
“You do know it’s not coming back, don’t you?” Verenice said, matter-of-fact.
Miranda nodded. “I felt the connection break. It’s useful for people to be uncertain of me, so I haven’t publicly confirmed it. How did you know?”
“We get very good at sensing magic in Shadows,” Verenice said. “I knew as soon as I walked in. I’m sure Sydney does as well.”
“Yes. It didn’t seem right not to tell her, what with her having to take responsibility for the House, but—like you—she knew without my saying anything.”
A knock on the door announced room service. Both women sat silently as the waiter set up the tea. Miranda signed the bill and looked up to see Verenice pouring whiskey from the honor bar into the teacups. “I beg your pardon.”
“You’ve just lost your magic and your House. You’ve found your daughter, who probably wants very little to do with you and is currently risking her life on a regular basis. Tea is not the appropriate beverage for the occasion.” Verenice sipped at her porcelain cup of whiskey.
Miranda sat down, eyes blank. Then she picked up her cup and tossed back its contents.
Verenice refilled it.
“Why did you come to visit me?” Miranda asked.
“Because I remembered a conversation we had, years ago, at your husband’s funeral. You asked me about Shadows, which seemed an odd topic of conversation given the setting, but then you asked if I thought anyone else could make it out. People do tend to find things when they go through papers, and as you had just taken over as Head of Prospero, well, I wondered. And now I know, so I wanted to see how you were.
“How are you, Miranda?”
Miranda cut the whiskey in her teacup with tea, then sipped, each movement pulling the veil of control back over her. “I was happy to learn that Sydney’s alive, of course. I am happy that she continues to be so. The rest of everything will sort itself out.”