“‘I have told my daughter that the seed of Magic may grow in ways unexpected and that we risk awakening something not easily put back to sleep. It might not suffer man’s control. It might rebel. I believe that what she calls an Inspiration would be an Experiment swiftly come to sorrow. Margotte is stubborn, however’—look, he underlined ‘stubborn’ three times—“and will not listen to the Wisdom of her Betters.’”
“Margotte was my mother,” I said.Stubborn.Well, she was that. Once Mother was set on a path, there was no diverting her from it.
“Why would anyone want to bring back bone magic, anyway?” said Mieka.
“Mother said the Plague wasn’t bone magic’s fault. Not exactly. That she thinks someone started using it wrong, and taking too much, and it sort of threw everything off-balance.”
“So I suppose if you used it properly …” Mieka shook her head. “This is dangerous, Netta. We have to be careful.”
“I know.”
The following day, I stitched and stitched the piece I had started the previous night, saying my mantra over and over.Please come. Please, please come.My fingers were raw from it, but luckily I could conceal them with those cursed gloves when Milady called me to her chambers again. Finally a good use for the awful things.
“Ah, there you are, my dear,” she said. “Your betrothed wants to spend some time with you—isn’t that nice?”
I stayed silent.
“I wish you would see my side of this, Netta,” she said. “I only want the best for you. You are my niece, after all.”
She still wanted to keep up this pretense of concern, of care? I watched her as she moved about the room.
“No one can argue with a marriage bond,” she said, as if partly to herself. “Both magic and religion recognize it as sacred. Once you are wed, your power belongs to him as surely as if it were his own.”
“It will be of no use to him,” I said coldly. “I don’t choose when or how to wield it. The most I can do is read to him from his books and let my Hair put on a show.”
“Oh, my dear.” She crossed the room to me and cupped my cheek in her hand in a mimicry of motherly affection. “Did you not suspect? Ban Morin has a very particular skill, rare among mages. He is able to use another’s magic as his own, when he binds them to himself. Isn’t that interesting? He may even give you a demonstration of those abilities tonight, if you are fortunate.”
My skin crawled where she touched me.
“My maid will escort you to his rooms now,” she said. “And Netta? I suggest you submit. For your own sake.”
I knocked on the door of Ban Morin’s chambers. The hideous engagement ring winked maliciously from my finger when Iraised my hand, and I felt a deep, visceral distaste for it, as if it were a stinging insect that had alighted there.
“Come in,” came his voice from inside.
I turned the handle reluctantly, my brain still racing to decipher a way out without resorting to accepting Patrick’s help and exchanging the frying pan for the fire. Perhaps I could tell Ban Morin just enough to persuade him to let me go to Spire? Or perhaps I could tell him nothing and suggest we take a ride together within the grounds to celebrate our betrothal, then gallop away at the first chance …
Not that I knew how to ride.
I entered the room slowly, forcing myself to move forward when all I wanted to do was run.
“Netta,” Ban Morin greeted me. He was even bigger and more threatening than I remembered now that I was alone with him.
“Ban Morin,” I said, trying to keep my voice from trembling.
He caught my hand in his and touched his unpleasantly wet lips to my knuckles, leaving a slimy gleam on my gloves when he straightened up. He seemed to be in a good mood.
“The ring …” I began.
“Striking, isn’t it? It’s a family heirloom.”
“I can’t take it off.”
“Why would you want to, my dear?” he said.
I knew I had to tread carefully. “There are some tasks … I would be worried about damaging it …”
“No chance of that. It is almost indestructible.”
