“I could say the same for you.” Carrow chuckled. “It looks like things have worked out for you—even if I do miss having you in the workshop. No one is quite as meticulous as you.” His gaze shifted to Jaxon, respectful but shrewd. “And you must be the reason she’s here tonight.”
“Master Jaxon Shaw.” Jaxon stretched out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Araya always spoke highly of her time in your workshop.”
“Did she?” Carrow mused, raising his eyebrows as he shook Jaxon’s hand. “Having her in my workshop during your years in the Eldergreen was a true privilege. Though, truth be told, the work never quite challenged her enough—she’s an extraordinary mage.”
Jaxon’s smile didn’t slip, but his fingers tightened at her waist, his voice cold. “She certainly is.”
Before anyone could say anything else, movement at the far end of the ballroom caught Jaxon’s attention. His father now stood surrounded by a cluster of high-ranking magisters and officers near the dais, their uniforms dark and severe against the gold-lit walls. Garrickcaught Jaxon’s eye and made a sharp, deliberate gesture—summoning him.
Jaxon’s jaw tensed. “Commanders’ meeting,” he grumbled. “Only my father would schedule one during a party—” he glanced down at Araya, his expression torn.
“I’ll be fine here,” she reassured him. “Master Carrow and I worked together for years?—”
“Exactly,” Jaxon said, his voice dark. “A long time. I’m sure you have plenty to reminisce about.”
Then, to Araya’s shock, he dipped his head and kissed her—holding her in place until she relaxed into him, letting him claim her for everyone to see.
“Be good, Starling,” he murmured, his fingers brushing over her bracelets as he stepped away. “Pleasure to meet you, Carrow,” he added, barely glancing at the other man as he turned and strode into the crowd, cutting a clean path toward his father’s side.
“You apprenticed under Shaw, didn’t you?” Carrow asked mildly, watching him go.
Araya flushed at his implication—but there was no censure Carrow’s tone. “A long time ago,” she said, tucking a loose wave of hair behind her ear. “We reconnected when he came back from Elvanfal.”
“Well, Garrick must be pleased,” Carrow said. “I can’t imagine he’s seen his son this happy in a long time. And you—” Carrow smiled at her, his voice warm. “You seem to be thriving, Miss Starwind.”
“Some things have been an adjustment,” Araya said with a laugh. “But I’m very happy with how it all worked out.”
“I’m glad.” Carrow regarded her with a thoughtful expression, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You know, I’ve yet to find anyone who matched your efficiency and intuition in the workshop. It’s a rare combination, and one I appreciated more than I likely told you at the time. If Master Shaw can ever spare you, there will always be a place for you in my workshop.”
Araya’s eyes widened, her breath stuttering in her lungs. That kind of offer—it wasn’t made lightly. And Carrow was making it toher—not to Jaxon Shaw’s bond.
“That—that’s very generous, sir,” she said carefully. “But I’m assisting Jaxon with a project right now?—”
“It’s an open invitation.” Carrow gave her a warm smile. “Think it over. No rush, no pressure.” His gaze flicked past her shoulder. “Though it looks like someone else is hoping for a moment of your time.”
Araya turned, expecting another guest—someone eager for a polite introduction, another curious gaze drawn by Jaxon’s bond.
Instead, she came face-to-face with Darian Hale.
“Master Carrow,” he said, his pale eyes gleaming as his mouth lifted in the faintest hint of a smile.“AndMiss Starwind. Out and about—without Shaw, for once.”
“Wonderful to see you again, Magister Hale,” Carrow replied lightly, either missing or deliberately ignoring the edge in Hale’s voice. “I trust things have been going well?—”
“Yes,” Hale cut in, his gaze never leaving hers. “I need to borrow Miss Starwind.”
Carrow hesitated, just long enough that the spark of hope in Araya’s chest sputtered and died when he gave her an apologetic smile. “Of course. Don’t forget what I said, Miss Starwind. You’re always welcome.”
Araya forced a tight smile, but it wavered as Hale’s fingers closed around her bare arm. “I won’t,” she managed, her voice thin.
Carrow’s brow furrowed, his gaze dropping to Hale’s grip on her arm—but he didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. He was in no position to saynoto the High Inquisitor—and neither was she.
Araya cast one last, desperate glance over her shoulder as Hale steered her away, searching the crowd for any sign of Jaxon—but he was nowhere to be seen. She was on her own.
Her heart pounded as she wrenched against Hale’s iron grip, trying to twist free as she fumbled for some plausible excuse—but hewas faster. With a practiced shove, he forced her into one of the private alcoves that lined the edges of the ballroom, the heavy curtain snuffing out the warmth and light of the ballroom like a candle.
Araya ripped her arm free, stumbling back before he could grab her again. “Don’t touch me,” she snapped.
“How impolite.” Hale’s smile didn’t falter. If anything, it widened, his gaze cold, calculating. “Your entanglement with Jaxon doesn’t come with immunity to decorum, Miss Starwind.”
