“My uncle is the headmaster at Mistral Hall,” Icarus confessed.
Seren’s head tilted to the side, her face unreadable. It was like his own personal torture to not be able to know exactly what she was thinking.
“I know,” she said.
Of all the things Icarus had expected her to say, that hadn’t been it. If he could not read her, she was clearly able to when it came to him as she said, “You don’t think they all whisper about you? I’m fairly certain there’s a weekly meeting where they all sit around and discuss what you wore, what you said, and your vast accomplishments.”
Well, that was unsettling, to say the least. “And you learned this at one of these meetings.”
Seren smirked. “I was kicked out after the second one. Apparently, they frown upon discussing how unbearably moody you can be.”
Icarus raised an eyebrow. “Moody?”
Seren nodded, raising her hand to count on her fingers. “Brooding, melodramatic, morose, overbearing—”
“I think I’ve got the picture.”
“Are you sure? I can always keep going.”
Something skittered to life in him at the way the hint of a dimple appeared on her right cheek when she was amused.
“You’ve been more than helpful,” Icarus said, his chest feeling lighter than it had in months.
“I do aim to please,” Seren crooned.
He loved seeing this side of her. She wasn’t bogged down by the things that haunted her during her waking hours. She was full of possibility and brilliance.
“So what about dear old Uncle Cyrus?” She said, still wearing that dimple that threatened to finally do him in.
“He’s planning something for the Winter Solstice. I have reason to think it will involve you and your sister.”
At the mention of Arabella, the dimple retreated, and he hated himself for being the cause of it.
“Planning what?” She asked, her magic seeming to wrap around her.
“I don’t know. The professors have spent all semester setting wards in the main hall. Whatever he’s planning, his magic isn’t strong enough to break through them,” Icarus confessed.
Seren seemed to relax. “So as long as Arabella stays in the main hall she will be safe.”
“And you,” Icarus reminded her.
Seren ignored him. “What does your uncle want with us?”
Part of him had hoped she wouldn’t ask, but he knew she would. Seren was too bright to not ask the questions that mattered. Nevertheless, he hesitated under the weight of the truth Calder had saddled him with.
Seren closed the distance between them and rested a hand on his arm. It burned him.
“Don’t keep doing that. We have come too far. No more keeping things from each other. What you know, I know. What I know, you know. We go together well, Icarus.” Her words latched onto him, embedding themselves into his very core.
We go together well.She was the compliment to what was left in him that was decent.
“Calder overheard him saying he intended to learn both of your secrets.”
Seren laughed. Icarus had just told her that a middle-aged man wanted something from her and she found it amusing. It cooled the rage that had taken root when he had spoken of his uncle’s intentions.
“So we will add an insane uncle and a despicable brother to the list,” She said, the dimple reappearing.
“Are those really character flaws though?” Icarus was surprised by the levity in his own voice especially when it came to discussing his family.
