She thought back to her childhood. Yes. Whenever she felt exceedingly happy, or even angry or sad, somethinghadradiated within her, reacting to the world around her. She opened her eyes. What was that...something?
She would have to pay more attention now that she’d recognized it. Perhaps the next time it flared, she’d be able to identify why or how it happened.
For now, she ought to hurry back to the rectory. How long had she been gone? She had lost all sense of time, and if it had been a few minutes or an hour she could not say. She pressed on until the clearing of the house came into view.
She had just seen a dragon—touched it, watched it breathe fire. And she’d been alone with High Mage Darkwood. Clearly this merited some kind of telling, or at least a confession to Gynelle.
But when she came through the door, Cidel was in a flutter.
“Where have you been?” Cidel’s thin hands flanked either side of her cheeks. “The Colonel called on us, and when I told him you were walking alone, he almost darted after you. You said you were going to be brief, but now we are nearly late to Magess Degowyn’s evening party. Hurry into your dress and we shall leave presently.”
Cassia did as she was told but smiled inwardly at her friends’ fretfulness. A little too much of Clovis’ influence had worn off. Cassia still thought the gown business utterly silly anyway.
“You really mustn’t stray so,” Gynelle said quietly, smoothing her gold and cream dress, which bore a medieval flair with puffs at the shoulders and elbows. Cassia shimmied into her maroon velvet bodice that flowed into an off-white skirt. Whatever the evening’s entertainment was to be, she guessed it to be something ancient. Gynelle assisted the maid in pinning some of Cassia’s hair. “Cidel and Master Clovis have been all nerves.”
“I really did intend for a short walk,” started Cassia, “but I went toward the woods and—”
Just then Master Clovis’ shrill cry rang from downstairs. “Ladies. If we don’t leave now, we will surely be late!”
This outburst was followed by an agitated Cidel at their door.
“We are coming at this moment,” called Gynelle. Cassia felt a small burst of something travel from Gynelle toward Cidel, whose panic melted into a smile.
As they descended the stairs, Cassia whispered to her sister. “Did you just use power to...diffuse Cidel’s anxiety?”
“Yes, I think I did,” said Gynelle, lifting her skirt as they hurried behind Cidel. Master and Mistress Clovis had already made it through the open door in pursuit of Rosings. “I’ve been thinking, and I think my gift is improving other’s moods. I know I can’t change people’s moods entirely, just bestow on them greater happiness or ease for a moment.”
Cassia’s eyes grew wide. What was it about this place, and all that had happened since Blythesome came to Netherfield, that awakened so much magic? How had she lived most of her life with hardly any real outpourings of true ability, now to be surrounded by such powers? Surely magic wasn’t all bad. She still felt leery of the Magess. And some people’s magical abilities only reached as far as truffles. What good could that do anyway?
But what she had felt with Ember was exquisite, unadulterated, and good. That was magic she could abide and wished to see more of. She had always been a heb, and if she didn’t have any abilities, perhaps she could try to surround herself with people who, some in the literal sense, could radiate good. Like Gynelle.
“Hurry now,” said Master Clovis as he clapped toward them. They were all halfway across the great lawn, but he still insisted on their rapidity.
Cassia shot her sister an encouraging glance. Gynelle’s brow furrowed. “Try it,” Cassia whispered. Gynelle’s lips rounded into a small “o,” and then she inhaled slowly and then exhaled toward the man as she pushed her hand out slightly, and almost instantly Clovis’ shoulders lowered, his gait easing up by one degree. Gynelle turned her head to the side and smiled at her sister.
This could make things fun.
Chapter Nine
“Now as you can see,”drizzled the Magess as soon as the ladies came into the parlor, “I have offered medieval dresses for the ladies tonight. I do hope to take you into the past as we study my display downstairs in the exhibition room.”
Gaius did not attempt close attention to his aunt as she carried on. He had too many things on his mind. First, he found himself entirely unable to keep his eyes off Cassia. The Magess’ magical dress more than suited her figure, the maroon and cream a nice compliment to her dark hair and smooth skin. But it wasn’t just the gown. That interaction with the dragon had been too intimate, too unexpected, and frankly, too short. He hadn’t learned enough about her and wished more than ever to be near her.
It made absolutely no sense.
He distracted himself by turning to the second aspect niggling his mind. Why these displays by his aunt? Why these dresses? Why so much show? When it had been just Caliazo and himself last year she had never done this. She only had great exhibitions when others came to visit. Perhaps this was her modus operandi with visitors. Regardless, something seemed more than just a show. Like somehow his aunt had an agenda.
“Time for dinner,” the Magess chimed into his thoughts as she clapped her hands together. “We will have some delicious trout from the lake…”
Master Clovis came bustling in on her heels, eager enough to enter the dining room. One might think him a foxhound.
During dinner, Gaius found himself across from Gynelle, which proved a blessing. They spoke pleasantly of general subjects. Cassia, however, was completely engrossed in Caliazo’s conversation. It provoked Gaius to jealousy, until he thought better of it. He should keep Miss Cassia at arm’s length or further, for the good of, well, everything.
Four courses later, including some vegetables drizzled with Clovis’ truffles made into a terribly sour sauce, the Magess cleared her throat.
“And now, we shall adjourn to the exhibit.” The Magess discarded her napkin on the table and stood, causing the men to rise abruptly. Everyone else followed suit.
Once downstairs, the Magess encouraged her guests. “Do not be shy.” She placed a hand on a helmet. “Touch whatever you wish. This armor is unpierceable, as you know.They sayevery sword that touched this armor imbued more strength into the metal.”
