Page 41 of A Wayward Movement

“What was it about, then?”

“It was his comment about it being a pity magic can’t be captured from movement and stored for later.”

They’d reached her door now, and she paused, looking up at him. Seeing she was waiting for more, Xavier glanced at his hovering guards.

“It’s probably a conversation for another time.”

In response to his threatening look, the two guards moved discreetly to the end of the hall, out of hearing range. Even so, Xavier didn’t explain himself further. His mind appeared to be on other matters.

“You do realize, don’t you, that there’s another, more obvious reason that I seem uneasy when people talk about your skill in magic? Namely that craftsmen are being snatched from the street.”

“That aspect of it worries me, too,” she assured him. “Of course I realize.”

“I wish we had more of a lead on whoever is behind all this,” Xavier said.

His earnest tone and furrowed brow were more attractive than any of his rakish charm, Alina acknowledged to herself.

“I don’t feel like we learned anything in today’s interviews,” the prince added.

“We learned one thing,” Alina said, feeling the need to lighten the mood. “The women of Alton find you even more irresistible than the ones back home.”

“They are persistent, aren’t they?” Xavier gave the ghost of his usual flirtatious smile, but Alina had the impression that underneath it, he was exhausted.

A laugh bubbled up in her. “As that serving girl demonstrated nicely,” she said. “You really have no one to blame but yourself, you know, with the way you carry on.”

That banished his moment of weariness. “I’m wounded,” he declared, slapping one strong hand over the center of his chest. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“I think you do,” Alina said, amused.

She’d been loaned a traveling cloak by Mrs. Pincer, the garment currently over her shoulders. With a flourish, she swirled it off, directing the resultant Dust to latch on to the laces of Xavier’s tunic. They were loosened in a rakish way that she had no doubt was very intentional. But under her direction, the magic made quick work of pulling them tight, until the garment was actually quite respectable.

“That’s just mean-spirited,” Xavier complained, although his eyes were dancing with appreciation. “I’ve been told my broad, manly chest is one of my best features.”

Alina was laughing again. “Who in Ryki actually said that to you?”

“Well, it was more that I overheard it,” he acknowledged. “You’re not really one to lecture, sweeping your cloak off so dramatically.”

“I needed the movement to generate Dust,” she protested. “It was the perfect option.”

“Ah, yes, because of the principle of inverting movement for the simplest conversion into magic.”

“Yes, actually,” Alina said. She was a little surprised he’d listened and remembered.

“I’m not sure I fully understand the principle,” he said innocently. “Maybe you should put your cloak back on, see what that magic does to the state of my tunic.”

“Nice try,” Alina scoffed. “You’ll have to try a lot harder than that.”

“Oh, I’ve barely begun to try,” he said, an unsettling glint in his eyes.

“And you wonder why local girls are throwing themselves at you,” Alina scolded.

“I do, actually.” Xavier leaned against the wall, crossing his arms and looking thoughtful. “I mean, I know I’m irresistible, naturally.”

“Naturally,” Alina parroted gravely.

“But I am a little surprised by the, well, aggressiveness.” His tone was more serious as he met her eyes. “Even you, my harshest critic, have to admit no encouragement has been required.”

“If I’m your harshest critic, you have an easy life,” she quipped. “But yes, it’s been fairly overwhelming. I suspect the rumors are to blame.”