“Can’t say I’ve had occasion to do so in the past.” He shrugs and gestures to the door. “Good luck.”
I steel myself for a moment in front of the mirror outside the sitting room. My face in the mirrored glass looks grim and discordant with my perfectly coiffed black hair and elegant dress. Gaven is right—my violet eyes don’t look quite right. They’re a bit too glassy. Hopefully, this meeting is quick, and then I can go sleep off the impending headache.
Plastering a smile on my face, I push the doors open and step into the sitting room.
My parents and two strangers turn to look at me. I narrow my eyes, but no matter how I search, there’s no color. I only find the faint whitish aura that all unblessed have.
Strange. I know that the Havenwoods have Divine blessings, but I’ve never met someone with magic I couldn’t see. This must be how every other magical family in Lunameade feels. I’m so accustomed to seeing people’s blessings and anticipating how they might use them that I’m instantly disoriented.
“Harlow, allow me to introduce our esteemed guests, Philip and Evangeline Havenwood, the magic-blessed rulers of Mountain Haven,” my father says.
He’s laying it on a bit thick, but I smile and shake both of their hands. I search for my betrothed out of the corner of my eye, but there’s no one else in the room.
I lift my gaze, looking at my mother with a question in my eyes.
“Their son, Henry, was delayed in his travel through town last night. He’s running a few minutes behind,” my mother says.
I nod, clasping my hands and smiling as naturally as I can at my future in-laws.
“We’re very sorry for his tardiness, and rest assured it will not be a regular thing, but as you can imagine, traveling through the DrainedWood takes a lot out of us,” Evangeline says. “Such unusual violet eyes. We were expecting that, of course, since all of you have some shade of purple, but they are so very striking. You’re a beautiful girl. I expect he’ll be very pleased.”
She levels a gaze at me like she’s searching for my magic. Sadly for her, that’s a talent that only Carrenwells possess.
Most of the families of Lunameade’s magical high houses choose not to reveal their gifts until they’re named heir of a house, but the Havenwoods never revealed anything, and their well blessings are mysteriously missing from the city records. I’m sure it chafes on my parents.
I am so uncomfortable under the Havenwoods’ dissecting gazes. It’s a relief when my mother hands me a cup of tea. I sip it gratefully.
The silence stretches between us, becoming awkward. Finally, the door creaks open and a young man steps inside. He pushes the door closed, and when he turns to face us, I almost fall over.
Because he’s not a stranger. He’s Asher—the man I tried to kill but ended up making out with last night.
I place my teacup on the table with a clatter, tea sloshing into the saucer.
He stills, his eyes locked on mine. Then, his mouth tips into a perfect smile that showcases the teeth that bit my thighs last night. He nods to his parents and mine and then bends to kiss my hand with a smirk. The dim light in the boarding house didn’t do him justice. His storm blue eyes are bright with mischief, and his dark hair is perfectly combed in delicate waves, unlike how mussed it was when I ran from him last night.
I can’t tell which version of him I like better.
“Henry,” he says. “You must be Harlow. Blessed Divine, you have the most striking eyes.”
He’s not looking at them when he says it. It seems almost like he’s rehearsed saying it.
“Thank you,” I mumble, nerves twisting my stomach in knots.
I wait for him to rat me out, but he turns to our parents.
“My apologies for my tardiness. I assure you it’s not an indication of my eagerness to meet my bride.” He meets my eye again and winks. “She seems just as eager, so let’s get this started.”
Cocky bastard. An unfamiliar heat rises to my cheeks as I remember the way it felt to kiss him, the softness of his mouth, the eagerness of hishands on my skin, the way he nipped at my thighs and made me shudder.
He leans close. “Lady Stellaria, you are full of delightful secrets. Was that just one last romp before the big day, or should I expect it to be a regular thing?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” I keep my face placid, staring at our parents, who are gathering around a small table.
“As you can see, I’ve had the contract drawn up to stipulate that her first marriage payment will be delivered within a week of the wedding,” my father says. “The following three will be paid once a season through the first year to ensure a smooth transition.”
To ensure you don’t murder our daughter until we have more time to solidify long-term trade deals and peace, is what they really mean.
I want to focus on what they’re saying, but I can feel Henry’s eyes on me. I look up, and he grins. I doubt he’ll be grinning when the contract is signed and my magic is revealed.
