Araya didn’t dare break the silence, but Jaxon only smirked when she caught his eye, maddeningly unbothered.
So she folded her hands in her lap, curling her fingers into the silk of her borrowed gown to still their shaking, and waited for the man who had written the laws she was now trapped beneath to finally acknowledge her.
By the time Garrick Shaw finally looked up, Araya’s heart was pounding so loudly she could barely hear her own thoughts.
“You must be Araya Starwind,” he said, setting his papers aside at last. “Jaxon has told me a great deal about you.”
“High Magister.”Araya dipped her head, glad neither man could hear her thundering heart as the carriage jolted over the uneven cobblestones. “I’m sorry—I didn’t?—”
She trailed off helplessly, staring accusingly at Jaxon. He just grinned at her, his expression lazy and satisfied as she squirmed under his father’s scrutiny. Araya looked away, forcing herself to meet Garrick’s eyes instead—a mistake. His sharp brown eyes lacked any of Jaxon’s easy warmth, pinning her in place as he dissected her with cold, calculating intent.
His lips curved into the faintest semblance of a smile at her unease, a gesture so small it sent a shiver down her spine. Without dropping her gaze, he flicked his fingers, his signet ring glowing as the stack of parchment lifted off his lap and arranged itself into a neat pile on the seat beside him.
Araya stared at the ring—an amplifier, no doubt. Custom made, powerful. He hadn’t even thought twice about using power for something so mundane. Meanwhile, the fae in the districts measured every drop of aether like it might be their last.
“Your friend seems stunned into silence,” Garrick said, glancing at his son.
“I didn’t warn her,” Jaxon said with a laugh. “I thought it would be fun to surprise her.”
“Jaxon,” Araya hissed, heat crawling up her neck to her cheeks.
He just leaned back, drumming his fingers idly on the leather bench as he grinned at her. “I love watching you think on your feet, Starling. You never disappoint me.”
Garrick’s smile deepened just a fraction. “Jaxon, you’ll give the poor girl a heart attack.” He shook his head, glancing at her apologetically.
“My apologies, Araya. I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said. “But when my son finally brings someone to my table, I do like to meet them face to face. Especially someone so…important to him.”
His pause beforeimportanthung in the air like a blade, pressing unseen against her ribs.
“It’s no trouble, sir,” she said at last, her voice thin but steady enough. “I was just surprised. It’s an honor to meet you.” The words spilled out too quickly, betraying her nerves.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Jaxon’s grin widen, but it did nothing to steady her fraying composure. Her focus remained on Garrick, the man who could shape—or shatter—her future with a single word.
“Araya was helping one of our Healers in Ravonfar,” Jaxon said when no one else spoke. “Serafina Hart—she runs the community clinic in North Bend. Araya helps her with maternity rounds in Ravonfar several times a month.”
Araya glanced at him, startled that he would know that. Serafina hadn’t started dragging her along on maternity rounds until after he’d left, using them as a convenient way to force Araya out of her bed and into the world.
Garrick’s eyebrows rose. “An unusual pastime. Do you not find your work at the Aetherium fulfilling?”
“I do,” she said carefully, proud that her voice didn’t shake. Thiswas no simple question—it was a test. “I’m very grateful to the Arcanum for giving me the opportunity to work. I’ve simply always enjoyed helping others in my spare time.”
Safe. Neutral. She clung to the words like a shield, but even as she spoke them, she knew they wouldn’t be enough.
Garrick tilted his head slightly, his gaze narrowing as if he could see straight through her. “Because you’re three-quarters fae,” he said, his tone devoid of any inflection that might hint at approval or disapproval. “I remember when we approved your waiver. But you’ve started cycling now?”
“Yes, sir,” Araya whispered. “I reported it—I’ve been waiting for the Arcanum’s decision.”
“Which we delayed while we considered Jaxon’s petition.” Garrick sighed, shaking his head with a small smile. “I see we’ve caused you no small amount of anxiety. Bureaucracy, I’m afraid, is a beast we just cannot seem to slay.”
His petition? Araya’s eyes flicked to Jaxon, searching for an answer. But his easy charm had vanished, leaving behind an expression she couldn’t read.
“Let me put you at ease,” the High Magister said—though the glint in his eye suggested he expected the opposite. “My son has requested to acquire your bond from the Arcanum. Do you understand what this entails?”
“I do,” Araya managed to say. She twisted her fingers together, darting another desperate gaze toward Jaxon, but he didn’t meet her eye. Instead, he jumped to his feet as soon as the carriage lurched to a stop.
“I’ll take care of things inside,” he said, not even bothering to look back before the door clicked shut behind him, leaving her alone with the High Magister.
“You can, of course, decline,” Garrick said when she just stared at him, the silence stretching a moment too long. He smiled—almost kindly. “If you do, there will be no consequences. No one will punish you. I’ll simply tell Jaxon it was my decision.”
