“Is there anything in particular that’s worrying you?”
I studied him over my raised hand. “Did you come here to try to talk me into it? Figured you could buy my service with a couple of éclairs?”
He grinned. “Was I wrong? No, seriously, the request obviously threw you for a bit of a loop. The others are mostly off doing their baron business, but I’m here, and—we’ve gotten to know each other decently well, haven’t we? I thought you might appreciate having someone to hash it out with.”
To be fair, I might. Even if it sent a quiver of self-consciousness through me to think that through our study sessions and the rest of our shared time at the school, he’d gotten to know me well enough that he read my reactions. And that he’d bothered to.
“I don’t know how much there is to hash out,” I admitted. “It’s dangerous. If the reaper families find out I’m conning them, they’re not exactly known for forgiveness. I could end up dead.” The school’s protections and my association with the barons had kept me relatively safe. Out there on my own, committing a crime directly against them—I’d be on much more precarious ground.
That point appeared to sober Noah up. His mouth twisted with a frown. Rory might have questioned whether the other fearmancers would really retaliate that quickly and brutally, but while the Ashgraves were known for being “soft,” he’d grown up in this society. It was an open secret that his own aunt had tried to off his brother on a regular basis; she’d been arrested in the middle of the rebellion for trying to blast both him and Declan to bits. And that was without any more wrongdoing on their part than holding a position she coveted.
He understood. Somehow that made me feel better about the whole situation, even though I still had no idea what to do.
Noah took a smaller gulp from his glass of vodka as if to offset the serious turn the conversation had taken. “I can’t deny that. That’s why we wouldn’t order you to do it. We wouldn’t ask you at all if we weren’t concerned that a whole lot more people’s lives may be on the line if we don’t figure out what the reapers are up to.”
“I know.” I frowned at my glass. The haze in my head was starting to take on a dizzy vibe. I should probably stop there.
Well, one more sip. I focused on the sharp tang at the back of my throat, but I couldn’t quite tune out my awareness of the guy sitting across from me. Of how those bright eyes of his lit up a glow inside me that I wasn’t totally comfortable with—mainly because at least some of this friendliness had to be a front.
The words tumbled out before I could catch them. “Are you all sure you’d want me on the job anyway? No one’s worried I’ll turn traitor again and screw you over this time?”
When I dared to meet Noah’s eyes, he was staring at me. “Of course not,” he said. “Why would anyone think that? You were one of the first members of the Scion’s Guard—you were there for every battle. You’ve done nothing but support the school and the new pentacle since then.”
The Scion’s Guard had been a makeshift army of students meant to protect the scions from the attacks of the older barons—although we’d ended up going on the offensive toward the end. I glanced away. “You know I only joined as a way of getting out of the other guard duty my parents wanted me on.”
“Yeah, because you didn’t like what the barons were doing—you didn’t want to be involved in bullying the Naries. It doesn’t matter why you joined. You still fought with the rest of us. I saw how you fought. You were right there in the thick of it, not hanging back letting everyone else take the worst blows.”
I hadn’t realized he’d even noticed me or known who I was back then. He’d only just come back from France to enroll at Blood U.
I swiped my hand across my mouth. “Well, if you’re going to do a thing, you might as well do it properly. Just because I disagree with the rest of my family on a whole lot of things doesn’t stop me from being a Warbury.”
The corner of Noah’s mouth quirked up. “I think the ‘doing it properly’ part matters a whole lot more to the pentacle than why you were doing it in the first place.”
I forced myself to look at him again. I must have been drunker than I’d realized, because somehow the question I’d only meant to think came blurting from my mouth. “If you think I’m one hundred percent trustworthy, then what have all these tutoring sessions been about? Or did you just come to that conclusion now after all your observations?”
Noah’s forehead furrowed. “You assumed I was asking for tutoring… to figure out whether you’ve been double-crossing the barons?”
Well, I’d stuck my foot in it now. Might as well really wedge it in there. I threw my free hand in the air. “What else am I supposed to think? I know you don’t really need much help with your illusion magic. Maybe it’s your weakest area, but you’re still better at it than half the other students.” It was typical for a barony heir to have that kind of magical strength.
Noah opened his mouth and closed it again. Then he tossed back another mouthful of vodka. A flush was spreading across his pale neck. I must have hit the mark… right?
He set down his empty glass and appeared to gather himself. “Okay, I might have had an ulterior motive. But it wasn’t to spy on you or evaluate your loyalty. Maybe I simply wanted to enjoy the pleasure of your company.”
Wait, what? He’d been using the tutoring sessions as an excuse to hang out with me?
My mind traveled back over the pastry offerings, the charming smiles, and the eager conversation he’d always made between exercises that I’d been so careful engaging in, wondering what information he was looking to ferret out—had it all been genuine?
A blush flared in my cheeks, probably twice as red as the color now creeping across his face. “Oh,” I said. “I…” I had no idea what to say.
Noah ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck, the loose strands of his black hair drifting along his jaw. “I guess I can see how you could have misread things. It seemed like an easy way to get to know you better. I thought if you got to know me a little better, you’d be more likely to want to see more of me once I got around to asking about that.”
Noah had been working up the courage to ask me out. Noah Ashgrave, future baron and champion of justice, was interested in me: disowned by my family, not a particularly spectacular mage in any area except illusion, nearly friendless? I couldn’t quite wrap my head around it. The alcohol-induced fogginess probably didn’t help.
I drained the last of my drink. The crisp sear of the vodka didn’t offer any inspiration.
Could this be some kind of trick? An elaborate joke?
I groped for words, and all I came up with was, “Well.” And then, no doubt thanks to that last swallow, “Why?”
Noah let out a rough chuckle. “Is it that hard to believe?”
Kind of? “I just—I’d have figured you’d go for more of a heroic type or something.” Like Declan and all the other older scions had been drawn to Rory. How many of our peers must hate her for taking all four of the most eligible bachelors on campus off the market? Except it was pretty hard to hate Rory once you’d spent any time around her at all, so maybe no one did.