Chapter 15

T he next couple of days fall into a routine. Grayson and I eat breakfast together, and then he takes me to the priest, who in turn takes me down into the bowels of the castle. I scrub away in that underground room until the guards come back and beat me in front of the elf before making me climb the stairs where Rodrick meets me and takes me back to Grayson. The magician is always quiet as we walk back to his rooms and he heals me, my strange gift of amplifying his magic making the process so much quicker. My presence as Lady Clarissa hasn't been needed since the other week, and although I hate my daily task, I don't have to pretend to be anyone else.

Grayson, Wilson, and I are sitting around the table in his dining room as I eat the stew Jayne prepared for me. She's been slowly adding richer food to my diet, and I've started to notice the difference in my body. I feel stronger, like I have more energy, although that could be the daily healing from Grayson. My figure is starting to slowly fill out, my bones not sticking painfully through my skin any longer. It will be a while before I don't look gaunt and half starved, but I feel better than I have in years.

Wilson has joined us for the evening, as he often does, chatting away happily about some gossip he heard about one of the ladies who is visiting court. He seems to have made it his mission to make me laugh, and each evening he has another wild tale to tell me. I have no idea how much of what he's telling me is true, but I look forward to seeing him and hearing whatever ludicrous story he has for me that day.

Today, he's telling me about one of the ladies that plied a palace magician with alcohol and then convinced him to use his magic on her to make her more beautiful. Leaning back in the chair, I watch as the young magician weaves his story, his hand gestures getting bigger the more enthusiastic he gets.

"—and then, her hair fell out! Right there in the middle of dinner!"

"You're exaggerating," Grayson critiques, but he's smiling as he leans back in his chair nursing his glass of wine, the most relaxed I've seen him in days.

"Ha! She's now fashioned the remainder of it into some ridiculous comb over. Next time you see her, have a look and then tell me who's exaggerating."

I can't hold back my laugh at Wilson's feigned hurt expression at the thought we might not believe his crazy story, but I have to admit this one has more of a ring of truth than most of his nightly updates.

"Well, there you go, don't drink and use magic folks." Grayson sips from his glass of wine again and then chuckles at the irony of his statement. I had tried the bitter liquid, but recoiled at the burning sensation, and I still don't understand the draw.

"So, magicians shouldn't drink?" I haven't been around many magicians other than Grayson and Wilson, so I'm still learning what's acceptable and have come to realise they are bound by a far stricter set of rules than the rest of us.

"It's discouraged. One glass with dinner is accepted, but drunk magicians make mistakes."

Frowning at Grayson's comment, I fight a shudder that runs through me. I've witnessed first-hand what alcohol can turn a person into, and the thought of what a magician, an individual with that much power, could do is a scary thought. They seem to have a strict set of rules that I can't understand. Why is this allowed when simple things like getting married isn't permitted without the approval of the higher magicians? "Why not ban it then?"

"Sometimes magicians need to forget some of the things we see..."

The haunted expression on Grayson's face makes me regret asking the question. He doesn't talk about it much, but I know he's been stationed at the front line of the war with the elves for a long time. He feels guilty that he left his legion behind to come save me and that he's stayed here since. It can be seen in the tightness of his shoulders and the tension around his eyes. Not that he would tell me, but I've seen him standing at the windows with a glassy look, and I know he's not really seeing the view.

"That reminds me of the time when Balin visited the castle!"

Wilson weaves another impossible story that has me laughing and the high mage smiling as he sips his wine. Grayson likes having the young mage around, and I'm not really sure how they know each other, but they have more of a sibling type relationship rather than a mage and his superior. I have to admit that I look forward to Wilson coming over in the evenings, especially since he acts as a buffer between myself and Grayson, always filling any empty silence with chatter. I'm very fond of him and his cheery disposition.

Does that make him my friend? I've never had friends before, so this is something I'm not used to. I enjoy seeing him, he makes me smile, I trust him not to hurt me, and I would be upset if anything happened to him.

Smiling at the thought, I lean back in my chair as I watch the mage. My friend.

Movement to my left has me glancing over as Grayson shifts in his chair. Does that make the high mage my friend too? He's done nothing but help me, he heals me daily, and makes sure I'm fed and comfortable. He scares me sometimes, but I do trust him not to harm me. Under the table so no one can see, I tick off the same criteria I used with Wilson on my fingers.

I enjoy seeing him, yes. He makes me smile—it's not as easy as with Wilson, but he does—and I like being around him, he makes me feel safe. Would I feel upset if he was harmed?

An anger so deep and fierce rises within me that the glass in my hand shatters at the thought. I don't even notice as the shards cut into my hand, the room going silent they turn to stare at me and the broken glass. They seem to realise something is going on with me, that this wasn't just a clumsy accident.

"Clarissa, are you okay?"

Taking a deep breath, I meet Wilson's concerned eyes and see him recoil slightly at the anger there. I immediately feel guilty, but it's not enough to stop the swirling rage that's building inside me.

"Clarissa." Like a cornered mountain lion, I follow the voice and spin my head to look at Grayson, narrowing my eyes at the command in his tone, the top of my lip curling back in a snarl. "Stop." The command rolls through me. "Everyone is safe. I'm not sure what's upsetting you and I can't help unless you talk to me."

I continue to stare at him, the swirling anger twisting with something else as I try to comprehend his words. "Has she gone into euisa ?" Wilson whispers, but I don't take my eyes off the high mage.

"No, she doesn't have magic, she couldn't have," he tells the younger mage, but there is a note of uncertainty in his voice. He keeps his eyes locked on me as he speaks. "But we've triggered something, look at her wrist."

Following their gazes, I see my wrist is glowing despite the cuff that's covering my mark, the purple glow shining through the fabric. A fierce need to protect rolls through me and I push out of my chair and stalk towards Grayson, our gazes locked together. That is until Wilson coughs awkwardly and pushes up from his chair.

"I should go—"

"No," I snarl, cutting him off. Prowling around to him, I grab him by the collar of his uniform and drag him with me as I go back to Grayson. Then, in a move that's completely out of character for me, and one I'm sure I will look back on with horror, I climb into Grayson's lap, pulling Wilson so he's draped over me. It's awkward, and the high mage grunts a few times as I shuffle into a more comfortable position. However, with the two of them wrapped around me, I feel safe, the fierce need to protect placated.

"Okay... guess I'm staying then," Wilson mumbles, his words echoing through me as his jaw presses against my head. He says it like it's a chore, but as his arms close around me, I can't help but let out a contented sigh.

We stay this way for a while, the passing of time strange, but the longer I stay in Grayson's lap, the more I relax, and the anger starts to disappear, only to be replaced with mortification as I return to myself.

"What just happened?" Voice tight, I try to keep as still as I can, ignoring the heat of Grayson's taut chest and how good the warmth of his body feels against mine. The comfort I'm getting from Wilson draping himself over me is different, but no less calming.

"I'm not sure," Grayson replies honestly, his arms tightening around me as he starts rubbing small circles on my back. "You reacted a little like you'd gone into euisa . The protectiveness is similar, the need to be close to the person who set it off." Frowning, I try to lift my head to look at him, but this turns out to be impossible with Wilson draped over me. Grayson has continually told me that I'm not a magician, that I have no magic, so I couldn't have gone into euisa . It makes no sense. "What happened?" he asks gently, and I know what he's asking—what set it off?

"I was thinking about friendship." My throat tightens and I clear my throat before I continue, "About how I've never had friends before…and about what I would do if either of you got hurt."

Both men still, and I worry I've said something wrong, that I've offended them. But then Wilson peels himself away from me and turns, placing a hand on my chin. He lifts it so he can look at me, Grayson's arms loosening around me so I can move if I want to.

"You consider us your friends?"

"Um, yes? If that's okay, I know I'm not—"

"Shut it," Wilson says with a grin, so I know he's not serious. "I'd be honoured to be your friend. I know that's not easy for you. Right, Grayson?"

The high mage stiffens beneath me at the question and insecurity starts to creep in. "Yes, of course. Friends." Although he said it, I get the impression he wants to say something else, something more, but as I twist in his lap and look up at him, his expression softens. Suddenly realising I'm sitting in a grown man's lap, I start blushing furiously. Grayson's never made any moves on me, or demanded anything sexual from me, but sitting here, realising how close I am to him, I hope he doesn't think I'm trying to put my advances on him.

"I suppose I should get off your lap now." With an awkward laugh, I climb off of him and pull at my dress, making sure it's straight, unable to meet his eyes. "I'm going to head to bed now. Thank you for dinner." Bowing my head, I hurry from the room intending to hide for the rest of the night and mull over every agonisingly embarrassing moment.

"Clarissa, wait." Freezing as Grayson calls my name, I glance over my shoulder at him. My heart flutters in my chest, and I'm not sure what I expect him to say, but it's certainly not what he says next. "You won't be working with the priest tomorrow."

"Oh." I try to hide my disappointment, but I'm not convinced I pull it off from the sympathetic look Wilson's giving me. "Night." Hurrying away, I leave the room and head to my door, but I don't miss Wilson's snort.

"Smooth."

I sleep surprisingly well despite my twisting and churning thoughts about how I acted at dinner. But after a hot shower, I curled up in the large bed, surrounding myself with cushions, and fell straight to sleep.

A knock at the door announces Jayne's arrival as I sit at the desk in front of the mirror, looking through the selection of lotions and makeup.

"You're Lady Clarissa today," Jayne announces as she bustles into the room, pulling open the wardrobe door and searching through the clothes with vigour. I have no idea where all these clothes came from, all of which are in the colours of the magicians. An uncomfortable thought comes to me as I watch Jayne through the mirror.

"Jayne, where are these clothes from? They're not Grayson's sister's, are they?"

"No, they didn't belong to Opal," she replies with a sad sigh, pulling out a dress and hanging it on the door. The garment looks lovely, but my thoughts are caught on something she said. Opal. Grayson sees me as a sister. Something twists inside me, something that feels like disappointment, but I push it aside. "Grayson made a couple with his magic, but the rest were made by the royal tailors." I'm not quite sure how I feel about this, and I have no idea how the tailors were able to make anything for me without measuring me. Perhaps Grayson told them. Shaking my head to rid myself of those thoughts, I stand and walk over to the maid where she's brushing down the skirt of the dress she selected.

"They're all blue."

"Yes, I'm sure it's a way to protect you, by claiming you as one of theirs."

The ladies I've seen walking around the castle have been dressed in many different colours, but so far all of my dresses, including the one I wear when I work with the priests, have been blue. Casting my eyes over the dress, I see it's much grander than the one I had worn to the library the other day. The top is fitted, deep royal blue in colour, and has sleeves that end at my wrists. The dress is fairly plain in design, but the golden stitches and edging on the bodice make it stand out much more. This is a statement in a dress if I've ever seen one.

With Jayne's help, I slip into the garb, and with the bodice laced up tight it accents what little bust I have, making me look more womanly now that I've started to fill out. The skirts are pleated, so they fall in a way that shows off my hips, with delicate golden patterns stitched into them. From a distance it just looks like the skirt is sparkling, but if you look closely, the patterns are actually the Great Mother's symbol delicately stitched over and over again.

There's a knock at my door, and after a moment Grayson walks in, his gaze immediately taking me in. His eyes skim over the fine dress before rising up to my face. I feel the tingle of magic, resisting the urge to reach up and touch my hair as his magic changes my locks from black to blonde.

"You look lovely."

Shaking my head, I try to ignore the tight feeling in my chest at his compliment, catching sight of one of the now curling blonde strands. "What's going on?"

I obviously didn't give the response he was looking for, as he reaches up and runs a hand through his hair as he sighs. "Prince Rhydian has returned from the warfront, there will be a meal and ball in his honour tonight." I understand why I'm wearing a nicer dress, but if the meal isn't until later in the day, why am I dressed up now?

"Your time is your own this morning. I've got a meeting I have to attend, and I'll come find you later to escort you to the meal." He turns to leave but pauses in the doorway, his back tense as he looks over his shoulder at me. "Be careful today."

As he leaves, I get the feeling there is something more going on than he was saying, and I realise that today is going to be difficult. With that thought plaguing me, I finish dressing and eat breakfast alone.

I try to decide what to do with my free time, knowing at the very least I'm going to leave these rooms and get some fresh air. As I exit Grayson's quarters and walk through the corridors, I can't shake the feeling that's hovering over me. Something is going to happen today, something important.

Perhaps I'll see if I can find Wilson, I muse to myself. The young mage has a way of always being able to lighten my mood. Now having a plan, I feel more confident as I enter the main corridor of the castle. It's much busier here. The wing where the magician's room is located is always quiet, but I suppose that's because most magician's don't spend much time here, being required either at the academy or on the frontline.

As I look around the hallway, I see many groups of young ladies, all of whom are watching the lords as they strut through the castle. I fight the urge to roll my eyes at the obvious ogling of both the males and females, and simply ignore it and walk past them. I still feel uncomfortable under their gazes, so used to being unnoticed before, but I can't let them see that it gets to me. Whispers follow me but, thankfully, no one tries to talk to me. My thoughts are too twisted to attempt to navigate a conversation with the vipers disguised as ladies.

I continue to search the castle for Wilson, sticking only to the areas I know and have already been shown. I don't want to get into trouble for wandering into some forbidden area out of ignorance. Although this part of the castle is carpeted and there are tapestries on the walls, I can't help but feel uneasy, like I'm being watched and they know I shouldn't be here. That I don't belong.

"Lady Clarissa, right?" A voice cuts through my musings, making me jump slightly, and put more distance between myself and the person who's appeared at my side. Looking at the woman who surprised me, I can't help but wonder what's happened to me, how she managed to sneak up on me. I've always been very good at knowing my surroundings, but this last week it's like I've lost that ability.

"Yes, I am," I reply, looking over the lady again and realising I recognise her. She was the one next to me in the choosing ceremony who stood up to the snobbish lady. She's wearing the same colours from the ceremony, but her dress is much less formal, her bright, curling auburn hair falling free around her face. "You're Lady Aileen?"

"You remembered my name." It's a statement rather than a question, but I don't miss the slight note of surprise in her accented voice, like she hadn't expected me to remember her.

"You remembered mine," I counter, the corner of my mouth lifting in amusement.

"Aye, but I wasn't the one who received a Goddess mark and then disappeared."

"Grayson has been keeping me busy—" I start to explain before realising how what I just said would sound. Blushing furiously, I try to clarify, mortification filling me. "Not in that way. I've been working with him, helping him," I babble, my words coming out in a rush which I'm sure makes me look all the more guilty.

"Aye, I believe you." An amused smile spreads across her freckled face. "You're fun to wind up. Will you be attending lunch today?" I'm still trying to decide if she truly believes me or if she's joking—the laughter in her eyes telling me the answer—when I realise she's asked me a question.

"I hadn't realised it wasn't mandatory."

"Oh, it is. But you're Goddess blessed and a friend of a high magician, so the same rules don't apply to you." Shifting uncomfortably under her gaze, I simply shrug at her flippant comments. "I'll see you there," she chirps abruptly before spinning on her heel and walking back the way I've just come from. Remembering my own mission, I call out to her again.

"Oh, Lady Aileen, have you seen Mage Wilson?"

At my question, she quickly turns back to me, her eyes wide as a ferocious blush covers her cheeks. Shaking her head violently, she practically runs away from me and I have to fight back a laugh. Seems Wilson has an admirer.