“Then why don’t you ask for help?” Reagan asked, strolling toward me with his own duffel bag slung over his shoulder.
He crouched, easily lifting my bag with his free hand.
“Do you have super strength, too?” I asked, irritation creeping into my voice.
“No,” he replied, flashing me a glance as we started down the stairs. “It’s a spell. Only I can carry our things. It’s impossibly heavy for anyone else.”
“Figures,” I mumbled.
He shot me a look. “Did you sleep well?” he asked, his black button-up shirt stretched across broad shoulders, drawing my gaze. “I thought I heard you talking.”
I pressed my lips together. That question was entirely new. “I slept fine,” I said. “And you?”
“I didn’t sleep,” he replied, stopping halfway down the staircase with an irritated expression. “The Barrows have company. We’ll say our goodbyes and leave.”
I nodded, wondering just how much he could hear with those ears.
We descended to the ground floor, making our way toward the entrance foyer where the whale fountain rested. Three figures stood beside it, two of whom I recognised as Erisea’s rulers.
The third was a tall man, roughly the same height as Coriander, with short black hair against pale skin. He wore a finely tailored black cloak with thin red hems. There were small symbols embroidered in crimson.
As we neared, the man shifted his gaze to Reagan, watching him with a small smirk and a slightly arched brow.
“I heard you’ve been visiting Erisea Hall,” the stranger said. “And yet you didn’t come to see me, cousin.”
Cousin?I glanced between Reagan and the stranger, a man I hadn’t seen in Mountheim in the time I’d been living there.
“Hello, Varian,” Reagan said, his voice colder than I’d heard in recent days. “I trust you’ve been enjoying Erisea lately.”
“Sadly, no, but I was at the border when I heard you were here, so close.” Varian’s gaze shifted to me, narrowing as if sizing up an opponent. “And who’s your companion?”
“My emissary,” Reagan said, his tone clipped and detached. “Jane, this is Varian Ilya, my mother’s nephew.”
“Emissary?” Varian echoed, a note of amusement threading through the word. “No offence, but you seem...fragile.”
I studied him, the challenge in his voice. Perhaps he was misjudging me as a person whose power he couldn’t sense.
“I suppose that makes it all the more impressive that I’m standing here,” I said, letting a thread of boldness slip into my voice.
Something in me knew better than to admit anything in front of him. Sometimes it was just a prickling at the nape of my neck or the friction along my back that marked those who wouldn’t be agreeable. I’d learned to recognise people’s tone from my father.
“Right,” he said, unimpressed. “Pleasure to meet anyone added to Reagan’s staff.” He extended his hand toward me.
I cast a quick glance at Reagan, noting the tension in his posture, before reluctantly shaking Varian’s hand. A faint, nutty scent reached me as he bent, his lips brushing the back of my hand, lingering just a breath too long as his nostrils flared.
“We were only just meeting Jane this week,” Alameda said, her smile just a tad too stiff. “Reagan does have an eye for capable staff.”
Varian straightened, his mouth curving into a smirk. “Ah, you forgot to mention your emissary is human.” His gaze flicked toward Reagan, feigned scandal glinting in his eyes. “How very unconventional of you, cousin.”
So, Reagan hadn’t told everyone.
“Can’t say it comes up in conversation much,” Reagan said, voice mild and unbothered.
Varian’s chuckle came alone. One brow lifted. “But in your staff?”
“Know your audience, Varian,” Coriander cut in, his voice cool but carrying a warning. “Your indignation doesn’t play well here.”
“I’m aware,” Varian replied. “Just as Reagan is aware of my opinion. Not that he ever asks for it. A shame we only meet like this, cousin.”
