Serafina’s steps faltered, her boots scraping the frozen cobblestones as they stepped out onto the darkening street. She didn’t answer. The silence stretched, cold and heavy, pressing into the space between them. Araya swallowed hard, her throat tight, the ache in her chest sharp enough to steal her breath. Maybe she should have expected it…but it still stung.
“When you get home, you should make a tea blend with chamomile, nettle, and a pinch of dried valerian root,” Serafina said finally. “It will knock you out for the night, but it will help replenish your magic faster.”
“Thanks,” Araya sighed, her breath freezing in the air in front of her as she exhaled. “I’ll try it. Does it help with dreams?”
“You shouldn’t have any with this one,” Serafina replied. “Has that been a problem lately?”
“Sometimes,” Araya said, ducking her head. Serafina had sat with her through countless nightmares when they roomed together at the Aetherium—but Araya couldn’t tell her about Loren. Even Araya wasn’t supposed to know he existed. It was safer this way—for Serafina, for Araya…even for Loren.
By the time Jaxon’s building finally came into view, Araya’s legs were aching, and she was more than a little relieved that Serafina had insisted on walking with her—at least until she recognized the imposing black carriage pulling up out front.
“Who is that?” Serafina asked, her steps slowing as the carriage stopped in front of the building.
“Garrick,” Araya said. “Jaxon’s father.”
“You call the High MagisterGarrick?” Serafina said. “What is he doing here?”
“He comes for dinner sometimes,” Araya said absently. She didn’t want to do anything but go inside, eat, and curl up in bed—maybe after a hot bath. “At least I got extra soup.”
By the time they reached the building, Garrick was standing beside his carriage, clearly waiting for them.
“Garrick,” Araya mustered up a smile from somewhere. “I didn’t realize you were coming tonight.
“Araya,” he greeted her smoothly, his tone clipped. “This is an unplanned visit.” His gaze swept over her, lingering just long enough to feel invasive, before shifting to Serafina. “Who is your friend?”
“Master Serafina Hart, Healer.” Serafina inclined her head in a smooth, practiced gesture—but Araya didn’t miss the way her jaw tensed, or how her fingers curled tightly around the strap of her bag. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir.”
“The pleasure is mine,” Garrick replied, his dark eyes bright as they assessed her. “Will you be joining us upstairs, Master Hart?”
“No,” Serafina said quickly. “I was just making sure Araya got home safely.”
“Ah, a loyal friend,” Garrick said, his tone almost amused, though the faint smile on his lips never reached his eyes. “An increasingly rare quality.”
“Maybe you’re making the wrong friends, sir,” Serafina said blandly.
Araya’s breath caught. What was Serafina thinking? This was the High Magister—no one spoke to him like that. But Serafina didn’t so much as blink, holding his gaze with calm, unreadable eyes like she hadn’t just insulted one of the most powerful men in the New Dominion.
Araya cleared her throat. “I’m sure she didn’t mean?—”
Garrick held up a hand, his smile returning, cool and dismissive. “Healers often have… strong opinions. No harm done.”
Without waiting for permission—or perhaps choosing to ignore it—Serafina pulled Araya into a tight hug. “Make the tea,” she whispered, pressing the bag of food into Araya’s arms. Then she stepped back, offered Garrick a cold nod, and turned down the street, walking away with the same composure she’d worn the entire exchange.
Araya watched her go, shaken by the whole interaction—but she didn’t have time to dwell on the unease coiling in her chest, not with Garrick standing right there.
“Is Jaxon expecting you?” she asked.
“He’s not,” Garrick said, his expression unreadable as he gestured toward the door. “Shall we?”
Araya nodded, forcing her legs to move as she followed him toward the door. The warmth of the atrium spilled out as the heavy doors swung open, enveloping her in the scent of polished wood and fresh flowers. She stepped inside, her boots clicking softly against the gleaming marble floor.
Garrick’s measured footsteps echoed beside her, his silence pressing down on her like a weight. He said nothing until theyreached the grand staircase, his hand closing around her elbow to support her as she faltered on the climb.
“Loyal friends can be invaluable,” he said smoothly. “It’s a relief when they know which questions to ask… and which to leave unspoken.” His sharp gaze lingered on her, the faintest smile brushing his lips. “Especially when it comes to sensitive matters my son is too reckless to take the proper precautions with.”
Araya’s breath hitched, the weight of Garrick’s gaze pinning her in place.He knew—he knew Jaxon had taken her down to that cell.
“I didn’t tell her anything about what I saw,” Araya whispered, fumbling for an answer that might appease him. She was suddenly very relieved she hadn’t told Serafina anything, letting her answer directly. “I didn’t know?—”
