Mr. Baree grinned at Felix, but like Mr. Clark, he bowed his head to me. “Adept.” He folded his meaty arms across his chest and squinted down at me.
“I can go back inside.” I didn’t bother to attempt a smile, but I inhaled deeply and rolled my shoulders back—which probably did more to convince them anyway.
“We can wait,” Mr. Baree said.
“It’s expected.”
Mr. Baree snorted. “What’s expected can take a swan dive off a steep cliff. This isn’t a sprint, Adept, it’s a lifestyle. You can take your time and settle in. No one is expecting you to be perfect the week your parents pass away.”
Mr. Clark rested his hand on my shoulder. “Roy is right. You’re the last in the Medeis line. House Medeis needs you, which means it’s important that you survive and don’t burn yourself out.”
Mr. Baree nodded. “The House comes first,” he said, repeating the ancient adage I’d heard probably the day I was born. “Which means you’re now our top priority. If some folks are displeased or House Medeis loses a bit of its austerity, it doesn’t matter. You are far more important.”
He meant to be encouraging.
Or supportive.
Or…something.
But those words made my stomach heave.
It felt so wrong! How could you prioritize like that? Sure, it was how wizarding Houses were supposed to operate, but I’d never seen it so brutally displayed for me.
Everyone in House Medeis would prioritize my wellbeing over everything.
“Right, well, I’m fine. So, in we go!” I trundled into motion—if I stood there and listened any more there was a very good chance I was going to throw up. “Are there any more representatives from our close allies I should greet?” I chattered to fill the silence.
“Not any that matter,” Felix sniffed.
“Well said,” Mr. Baree growled.
I slipped back inside the funeral parlor before the others could join me.
My eyes automatically slid to the viewing room where my parents’ coffins were, but I jerked my gaze away and peered around the foyer.
Mason was standing with someone at the viewing room door.
Perfect, I could ask him if I had missed anything.
I slipped through the straggling mourners—with my height I got mistaken as a high school student pretty often, so no one paid any attention as I padded around them, bits and pieces of their conversation reaching me.
“Drake struck down a law that would have allotted space for another wolf Pack in northern Minnesota.”
“You’re surprised?”
“No, just disgusted he can control our Regional Committee of Magic.”
“Vampires rule the Midwest, my friend…”
The rest of the exchange fell out of my hearing range as I edged around the two tall women—werewolves, judging by the gold gleams in their eyes.
Ugh. Politics.
Politics I’d soon have to worry about as the House Medeis Adept.
I briefly shut my eyes. My life had become a waking nightmare. Losing my parents had torn a hole in my heart, and being responsible for House Medeis was a different level of horror. But the politics, the leading…how was I going to manage it? Especially once everyone in my House started going back to work.
Adept was considered a full-time position, so I’d spend my days waffling through my new workload. But besides Great Aunt Marraine, everyone else had jobs—or school. (The only reason I still didn’t have college was because I had luckily finished my business degree a semester early, in the winter.)
A part of me felt angry with my parents that they hadn’t better prepared me, but it wasn’t their fault. Heirs receive the first part of their training when they turn twenty, and then receive more responsibilities and training after they reach twenty-five.
I hadn’t ever questioned that policy before…until now.
Another breath and a correction to my posture, and I made myself cross the remaining distance to Mason. I was surprised to find he was talking to a wizard from House Tellier. Medeis and Tellier weren’t enemies, but we weren’t friendly either given Gideon’s tendency to bother me and Momoko’s methods of revenge—which usually involved lightning.
The two spoke in lowered tones, though Mason smiled when he saw me. “Ahh, Adept, we were just talking about you.”
“Yes.” The House Tellier wizard smiled, but it seemed flat and insincere. “When do you think we might observe the grand occasion of your Ascension?”
Ascension was the old and showy ceremony that basically was the handoff of the House to the Heir-turned-Adept. There were a few speeches to give, and I’d get officially sworn in as Adept, but the most important part was that I would make my vows to the House and bind it to me.
The House would then physically change in accordance with my magic and the kind of person I was. It would still keep that Victorian-house-crossed-with-a-chateau feel to it, but it might grow bigger (unlikely) or smaller (most probable), grow some new gardens, or—as had been my dearest childhood dream—sprout a pool.
“I don’t imagine for a couple weeks,” I said. “There’s still a lot to…settle.” My gaze again strayed to the viewing room before I yanked it back.
Mason’s smile turned overpoweringly sympathetic, like too much sugar in your coffee. “Of course, Adept. You need time to mourn your parents.”
“And to notify the Wizard Council, gather the records, and find the House Medeis signet ring,” the House Tellier wizard added. “Unless you already have it?”
“No.” I clasped my hands behind my back so I wouldn’t be tempted to make any rude gestures I would later regret. “Given the tragedy, having my parents’ will read hasn’t been a priority.”
The two wizards exchanged an indiscernible look.
“Of course, Adept,” Mason said smoothly. “If I can be of any service in the meantime, just ask.”
I had been eyeing the Tellier wizard, but when Mason spoke I shifted my attention to him. He said that already. Is he just putting on a show for House Tellier? It seemed my future in politics was grimmer than I thought. “Thanks.”
Mason bowed slightly. “It is my honor—the House comes first, after all.”
Three weeks passed, and the unbearable pain left by my parents’ death settled into a dull ache.
Laughing came more easily, but sleeping was rough. I spent hours every night walking House Medeis.
The magical House was both comforting and a stark reminder that I was less than an Adept should have been—less trained and less skilled.
I’m going to have to come up with a method to supplement my magical power, I reluctantly concluded. Or House Medeis will crumble even though I’m the rightful Heir. I mean, kicking kneecaps and being as squirmy as an eel works for facing off with people like Gideon, but that’s not going to help with politics. But what would work? Stronger allies would be ideal, but who would want to befriend us that didn’t want to when my parents were alive?
I scratched under the elastic waistband of my owl fleece pajama pants. Though it was late spring, nights were still cool, and House Medeis was always a bit drafty—a good thing given wizards tended to run hot most of the time.