Handing her the offending document, I walk to my desk and shove aside a stack of folders to make myself room.
One of the folders, the latest demand for reparations from Labornne, falls off the edge right into a waste basket.
Oops. So sad.
She skims the. . .note. “You are right not to show them this. The general response would have been both hasty, and unfortunate.”
I'm so rarely given verbal validation. I take the letter and store it in the safe, wondering why I don’t burn it now.
Nora’s tone is grave, her intent gaze framed by strands of her wispy white blonde hair. “Your mother should have warned you about happens when you catch the eye of a High Lord. OfthisHigh Lord, but she said you were too young to discuss such things. Muri was always optimistic.”
This feels like victim blaming, but I let it go. The entitlement of a High Lord won't be fixed but I can control, more or less, whether I'm in the presence of one.
“I didn't do it on purpose.” I hop onto my desk.
She flicks her fingers. “Of course not. The ones who interest them rarely do.”
There's a lot to unpack in that statement. “He likes the hunt.”
“He is a Temthrennes High Lord.”
“A High Lord is a High Lord. I know about High Lords. Does his family line matter?”
Her says nothing, which says plenty.
I pick up a few darts and idly aim for the Prince on the wall. The tip of his nose.
Bullseye.
If only.
The second dart misses and I set them down, sliding my hands back into my pockets. They haven't stopped shaking, and I can't blame post battle adrenaline or another half-hearted attempt at sobriety.
I'm cold. I've never beencoldwith fear before. “An assignation with this kind of power differential won't be pretty. For me.”
“No, it likely won't be, but you can mitigate the risk. We don’t yet know what his full intention is, so we will consider all scenarios.” She wanders the room, her gaze distant.
“Nora, focus.” If I let her travel down the path of wherever her thoughts are leading, I'll lose her for the next couple of days.
“My mind will remain with you a while yet. I will not sleep. Experience is usually the best teacher, but short of that, the experience of others often suffices.”
Nora approaches, cupping my face between her cold hands. “Lovely. The fire of humanity combined with the ethereal grace of the Fae. A hint of Other. We underestimated your allure, Aerinne. Or rather, we underestimated the speed at which. . .” She notes my hesitation. “What is it?”
My temples begin to ache, and I grip my teeth against the oncoming migraine. “He has an avatar.” The pain stops me from saying ‘like mine.’
I breathe through it, and after a long moment of silence it lessens.
“What did you see?” she asks.
“An Other. . .Dragon. I think. On a different plane. Could he have been projecting a threat?”
Nora releases my face, turning away from me. “He doesn’t need tricks to make threats. A Dragon,” she adds in a whisper to herself. “I need to think.”
Shit. She begins to walk to the door and I sigh. “Aunt Nora. I don't think we finished our discussion.”
The Old One halts. “Oh, yes.” She hums, turning back to me. “And the discussion?”
She is my aunt, so I refrain from sarcasm. “We were talking about how my irresistible sexiness is going to cause the destruction of the city.”
