like that. It—”
“I wouldn’t exactly say I’m not impressed!”
He grinned. “You say, interrupting me.”
And proving his point.
Liv decided to shut up. Maybe differentiating herself from all the other women who came here—and were unsuccessful in their attempts to seduce Gavin—had not been a good plan.
“It seems every time I summon a woman between the ages of thirteen and sixty, she comes dressed like a Ruthgari courtesan, either overly eager or completely terrified. Like I run a brothel up here.”
Oh, Orholam strike me, what if I’ve done the one thing that makes me more attractive to him? “You’re Gavin Guile,” Liv said, like that explained everything. It did. Not only would snaring the Prism totally change a woman’s own life, but it would change her entire family’s life. Immediately and for generations to come, and for the better. Add gorgeous and virile to “Prism,” which already meant powerful, respected, and rich, and Liv had no doubt that hemlines soared and necklines swooped. It was a wonder that women didn’t come to the Prism naked. How much would Ana have worn if the Prism had summoned her?
On second thought, Liv didn’t want to think about that.
“Yes, I am,” Gavin said, smirking as if at some private joke. “And I need your help, Aliviana.”
Liv swallowed. The truth was, he could ask anything, and there was no way she could say no. “Liv, please.”
“Right.” Gavin cleared his throat. Why is he clearing his throat? He feels awkward? Does he feel awkward starting an affair with a girl half his age?
Gavin glanced over Liv’s shoulder again. “A number of years ago—it feels like quite a number of years ago… I have a… nephew. His mother was Tyrean. I want you to tutor him. It might make him feel more comfortable to learn from another Tyrean. I know you Tyreans don’t have it easy here. What do you say?”
Liv spluttered. A “nephew”? A tutor? Kip! Of course! Orholam, she’d gone completely the wrong direction! Idiot! The Prism hadn’t even been thinking anything remotely…“W-well, of course, Lord Prism. Is there… why do…” What was she saying? She’d already been impertinent enough. Asking the wrong question about a man’s bastard might be a good way to ruin everything. “What color is he gifted with?” She only remembered at the last second to say “he” and not “Kip.” She wasn’t supposed to know Kip was the Prism’s bastard at all.
I would make a lousy spy.
“Green. Possibly blue. He’s being initiated right now.”
“Right now?” Liv asked. The year’s initiations had been completed long ago. Liv had never heard of someone being initiated at any other time of year. “How long has your—how long has he been here?”
“He arrived yesterday.”
“And he’s being initiated already?!” Liv asked. Poor Kip.
Gavin glanced behind her again. This time, she knew what he was looking at. Throughout the tower, for reasons Liv had never comprehended, there were plain crystals set into the walls. For the whole year, they simply sat and sparkled, dully refracting whatever light they caught from their surroundings, but during initiations at the beginning of each year, they glowed brilliantly. As the supplicants passed through the Thresher, invariably there was the wash of one color after another as each test progressed, the same wash each supplicant saw. As soon as they drafted, the crystal turned a brilliant hue in whatever color they drafted. For Liv it had been superviolet first, then yellow weakly.
The whole time Liv had been here, the Prism had been watching to see how his bastard son was doing.
Come to think of it, if the test had been going on since the first time Gavin Guile had glanced behind Liv, it was taking a really long time. Usually it took less than a minute.
They both turned to look at the crystal. “What did the tester say when they lowered you into the Thresher?” Gavin asked.
“He said something about the only good rebel being a dead rebel, and how he still owed my father blood,” Liv said. The point had been, as it always was, to scare the person being tested. Fear made the eyes dilate. Fear made a supplicant draft to the utmost of her abilities. It also helped even the most arrogant young lady or lordling begin their studies with a bit of humility.
“How about you?” Liv asked. Neither of them turned from the crystal.
“Something about my brother,” Gavin said. “Turned out to be more right than they knew.”
“I’m sorry,” Liv said. She wasn’t sure if she was apologizing