All the betrayal, all the hurt, all the grief builds and builds until I’m about to burst. My gaze falls back on the powerful weaver in his large, leather chair with his lit cigarette and cool arrogance. I swallow through the tightness in my throat. I can hold back no longer.
My voice rasps, my eyes burning. “You ruinedeverything.”
Vincentius blinks and my fingers curl into fists as I focus on him with a growing intensity that lengthens the shadows. “My life. My rightful place. Myfuture.” I shake my head. “You fucked it all up.”
He takes a slow draw from his cigarette, gaze wandering to the bookshelf. The stream of smoke blows to the ceiling with a long exhale. “I know.”
Now it’s my turn to blink. Whatever I expected, it was not that. “Why did you do it?”
Vincentius sighs, tapping the ash in an ornate tray on the corner of his desk. “The Archweaver offered me a deal to not oppose his decision. It seemed like a good one at the time.”
“What was the deal?”
His cold stare is unwavering. “One I miscalculated.”
I scoff. “Miscalculated? You didn’t even warn me!” Hurt bleeds into my words, the shock from that night like a raw, pulsing wound in my chest. “You shouldn’t have let me go in there thinking that… that…” I’m losing control and my vision blurs, but I won’t let my tears spill. He doesn’t deserve the sight of them.
A small flicker of shame and regret shadows his eyes. It must be quite intense to bleed through his perfect mask. “Yes. That was also a miscalculation.”
I lean forward, my magic rising with my emotions. My voice lowers dangerously. “Stop being vague and tell me. I deserve toknoweverything. And if you don’t, I won’t be held responsible for my reaction.”
He eyes the clouding magic thoughtfully. “Threatening me is a bold move, child.”
“I’m not a child.” My teeth bare, magic crackling. “I’m a woman scorned, and my rage will rip through your office like it did your precious sphinx.”
His eyes glint like he’s enjoying this moment, and it nearly tips me over the edge of sanity. He holds out his cigarette. “Would you like some? It might help you calm down.”
My body shudders, eyes flashing. My heart falters when he stills. What color did my eyes turn? Fear chills me.
He’s right, though I’m loath to admit it. I need to calm down. My control is slipping and if I want the answers my soul so desperately craves, I need to play the game. I cannot force Vincentius to bend. I need to sway him, which takes cunning composure.
I force my too-tight throat to swallow, force my coiled body to lean away from the desk. My voice is still strained, but a normal volume. “Why?”
He surveys me and I can see him calculating something rapidly. The fear chills some of the burning rage within me. Finally, he speaks. “Your father and I came to an agreement. Alasdair and Emilia would be betrothed, and Valen and you as well. Emilia would’ve made an excellent Lady Archweaver and brought Alasdair’s wild ways to heel.” He frowns slightly. “It was a good move for Emilia at the time.”
Hurt overwhelms the surging elation of being correct. He chose Emilia over me and it plunges a knife deep in my chest. Logically, it makes sense. Emilia is his true daughter, after all.
My small, cracked “Oh” is barely audible. My vision blurring worse.
Vincentius’ expression softens, his cigarette lowering. “Oh, Tori.”
I turn away, hoping to hide the single tear that escapes. His voice is gentle. “Would it have been so terrible? Emilia would’ve moved to the Archweaver estate, and you would be here.” He offers a small smile. “Did you really want to stay at that place with Atticus and that shrew Luciana?”
The sound of Alasdair’s mother’s name sends a ripple of terror down my spine. Vincentius continues, like he doesn’t notice. “You could’ve been happy and free of them if you’d complied.” His head tilts. “Rossana misses you dearly. As do I. Don’t get me started on Valen.” He huffs a small laugh.
My throat tightens. His words are seductive, as if his focus wasn’t solely on placing his children in the best positions of power. My teeth clench, my instincts whispering to me. There’s something else, something he’s not saying. If that was truly the best option, then he would’ve planned it from the beginning. He could’ve spent years carefully molding me into the future Bauer wife. But instead, he pushed me to be the best, pushed me to climb harder, be a leader. Be the Archweaver. All my life, Vincentius schemed for my ascension as much as I dreamed it. As much as Viola dreamed it.
My eyes narrow. It doesn’t make sense, because it doesn’t answer all the questions, only the easy one. “And why did you want me at the Bauer estate so badly that you’d risk our relationship?” My chest tightens, suspicions taking form. “Why did myfatherwant it?”
Vincentius studies me carefully and a drum of his fingers gives him away, just like his son. He looks down, studying the desk, his hand smoothing over the lacquer. “You and Valen make quite the pair. Two halves of the same coin. You balance each other.”
I catch it. The give-away.Balancing. I draw in air sharply. “You think my magic is unbalanced.” My voice cracks. “You fear I’m unhinged.”
His gaze snaps up. “No. Never.” My lips tremble and Vincentius makes his voice firm. “You are powerful, Astoria. Any idiot with a wand can sense that. Not only powerful, but you have a will towieldit. Creation and Entropy thrum through your veins. Lesser children died in the womb from it, but not you. You came out glowing with power. And by the Tapestry, you were smart and creative enough to bend those threads like a true master, even as a child.”
I wait, letting the silence stretch. There’s more. I sense it and I don’t let my gaze waver from him. Finally, his tongue clicks. “But you have that fire from your mother.”
There it is. My jaw clenches, teeth clicking. He takes another long draw from his cigarette. “The Entropy Flame is a curse to your blood. Even now I can see it.” His eyes narrow, the blue brightening with magic. “The darkness of your pupils has a flicker, a fire that threatens to burn you from the inside out. Not many can see it. I doubt even Valen can.”
