“It wasn’t?” I ask.
Harlow laughs bitterly and takes a long gulp of wine.
“But why attack during the engagement dinner?” I ask. “He was there. He danced with you right before the Divine-damned explosion.”
“Yes, but what better cover than that of a victim? And if memory serves, he wasn’t in the room when it happened.” She meets my eye. “Neither were your parents.”
“Neither was your brother Kellan.”
She rolls her eyes. “Point taken, but I noticed something curious. Only one person moved before the blast went off, and that person was you. How do I know thatyourfamily wasn’t responsible and just using the rebels as a convenient distraction?”
I’m impressed that she thought of this, but I’ve been dreading her bringing it up. If her stupid bodyguard hadn’t confirmed it after the fact, she might have let it go.
I shrug. “Wish I could have taken credit, but if I’d done it, I would have made sure I was farther from the windows. Just because I can heal quickly doesn’t mean it’s fun to take the brunt of all those glass shards.”
She purses her lips and offers only a mildly skeptical look. I’m desperate for a distraction, and Carter must read it because he leans forward.
“If you two are done bickering, I have a question about the well ceremony,” Carter says. “Could someone hide a baby’s aura?”
Harlow shakes her head. “There’s always a Carrenwell there to witness, and since we can see magic, we would also see any kind of glamour they used to hide it. That’s how I know you have a blessing from Polm.” She turns to Bryce and winks. “And you have a gift from Kennymyra. We don’t get many of those around these parts.”
“How do you know?” Bryce asks, looking down at his body like he’ll be able to see his own magic.
She grins, twirling her wine glass on the table. “It’s the color in your aura. Yours is red. Must admit I’m very curious to know about your magic.”
Bryce leans toward her, a lazy smile on his face. “I’d be delighted to show you.”
I don’t like the way they’re eyeing each other. She doesn’t look like she’s just doing it to fuck with me anymore—she’s actually curious. Not that I care.
My head is spinning. I’m relieved that my parents have been wearing their cloaking rings. She’s offering a lot of information freely. So much that I don’t trust that it’s real, or that she doesn’t have some other motive for being so forthcoming.
I tap a knuckle on the table. “That hardly feels foolproof. I tricked you the night we met.”
Harlow scowls at me, the skin on her neck and cheeks darkening from pale to light gray. She’s blushing.
She clears her throat. “If I hadn’t been so distracted by my impending unwanted nuptials, I might have paid closer attention.”
“Yes, I’m sure it was that and not the fact that you were ready to let me fuck you through the bed,” I taunt.
“Don’t flatter yourself. I was annoyed my parents were selling me off again?—”
“Again?” Bryce interrupts. “You were married before?”
Harlow feigns a pout. “Did you think I was just an old spinster?”
Bryce leans forward and winks. “Of course not. It’s just that Henry tells us nothing.”
“Yes, I was married before. To a man named Marc Beckley. He passed,” she says.
We all look at her expectantly.
“May Divine Asher deliver his soul safely beyond the veil,” she says, a beat too late.
Bryce laughs. “You seem pretty broken up over it.”
“It’s been six months. I’ve had some time to adjust,” she says. “I had faith the Divine would bring me my true love, and here he is—” She gestures to me and pretends to swoon. “How fortunate I am.”
“You’re so sincere,” I say.
