Alise cupped her chin in her hands. “Realllly. Do tell.”
“Don’t tell.” Iliana cut in with a meaningful glare.
Han closed his mouth and shrugged at Alise. “The lady has spoken.”
Alise groaned. “She won’t tell me anything. I hate you both.” They all laughed and, for just that space of time, it was as if nothing had changed between them. But it had, and soon they’d all be going their separate ways. Han and Alise seemed to be struck with the same thought, sobering along with her.
“How are you spending your festival day?” Iliana asked Han, hoping to break the mood. The big celebration didn’t begin until evening. “There’s ice skating, and then the magic exhibition.”
“Sign me up for both,” Han replied with a warm smile that quickly faded. “Once I’m done in the Tower of Testing.” He dropped his voice into sepulchral tones for that last, but neither Alise nor Iliana laughed.
“You have to gotoday?” Alise asked, aghast. “No one is working today.”
“Just proves what we’ve always suspected,” Han replied with an easy grin. “The proctors aren’t actually human, but are automatons puppeted by the oracle heads.”
“Yuck,” Iliana said, scowling at him.
He continued to grin unrepentant. “You just don’t have a good counterargument.”
“I have better things to do with my brain that think up counterarguments to frivolous theories.”
“Oh yes?” he purred, gaze traveling over her. “What are you thinking up, lovely Iliana? I hope you’ll try it on me later.”
“Stop that,” she hissed.
“You two are so good together. I’m happy for you. I’d be jealous if I didn’t love you both so much.” Alise sighed. “I wish we were still friends,” she added quietly.
“We can be,” Iliana promised.
Alise smiled ruefully. “I don’t think we can. The proctorsreallydon’t like us consorting with familiars outside of formal situations. You should see—”
A small Ratsiel courier popped into the air next to Han, chiming the testing tower summons. Han glared at it. “And there’s my cue.” Standing, he leaned hands on the table, waiting for Iliana to meet his gaze. “I’ll meet you for skating in an hour or so.”
An odd foreboding filled her, but she nodded cheerfully, pasting on a bright smile. “All right. Good luck.”
Han cocked his head. “What?”
“Nothing!”
“That’s your fake smile. What’s wrong?”
Erf.“I’m just sorry you don’t get your full day off.” Holding his gaze, she willed him to believe her. Or, if not, to let it go.
After a long moment, he nodded. “I’ll see you soon.”
He strode off, long queue of pale hair streaming down his back like an icicle of gold. Alise watched Han go, too. “I swear you are insanely lucky, Iliana. I’m going to write an epic romantic novel about you two.”
Iliana laughed politely, privately afraid of just how tragic their ending would be.
~ 9 ~
Han whistled ashe skipped up the testing tower steps, knowing that Iliana was the reason for his lighthearted mood, only belatedly realizing the tune in his mind—and heart—was the song they’d danced to the night before. It would be their melody forever. In the years to come, he’d make sure they danced to it on Founder’s Eve, celebrating the night they pledged their love to each other, in words and in sensual intimacy.
He only wished Iliana would stop worrying so much. Behind her fake smile, she’d looked like he was going off to his execution, not to be pronounced uncategorizable yet again. But she’d see, he’d meet in an hour for ice skating, and then he’d tempt her back to his room for a bit of alone time before the big feast. They could skip the magic exhibition. It was pretty much the same thing every year—all the showy magics with no substance. It wasn’t as if any of the houses wanted to give away their proprietary information.
“Happy Founder’s Day, proctor,” he greeted cheerfully.
“Prosperity through magic, M. Haniel,” the proctor replied without cracking a smile. Really, there was a case to be made that the proctors weren’t living people.
