few huffs and labored sighs from Gabrielle.
Five doors. One must lead to the workshop downstairs. I think it’s reasonable to expect there’s a private study for Nefari given how he runs this stronghold.
Angelique tried leaning on the walls to see if she could feel anything in the timbers or drywall of the cottage that might indicate where the study was—it probably had enchantments on it to ward off fire, like Evariste’s library back at Wistful Thicket. But all she felt was the cloying black magic and the hundreds of spells that were attached to the gems.
“Very well,” Nefari said, redrawing Angelique’s attention. “Given that we have settled on a price for what spells you have selected, I will need a down payment.” He smiled smoothly. “As proof of your finances.”
Gabrielle slowly blinked.
“Naturally, Mademoiselle Mystrim says,” Elle interpreted. She untied a small sack from her belt that clinked when she set it on the table.
Nefari yanked the sack’s drawstrings open and peered inside before he passed the papers they’d filled out to his servant girl. “Run this down to the workshop.” He swatted his hand at her in a shooing motion but kept his eyes on the money—based on his smirk, he’d over charged them a great deal.
It’s fine. Severin will get the money back when he ransacks this place.
Angelique watched the servant girl pick up the papers and scurry back down the hallway. She’d purposely positioned herself so she could see where the girl went—though she tilted her head down so, with her eyes hidden, it would seem like she wasn’t paying attention.
The little girl slipped through the smallest door—the one sandwiched between the two much larger doors. Angelique only saw the faint flickers of light dancing on the wall before the little girl stepped down and pulled the door shut behind her.
He told her to run the papers down to the workshop. It’s underground, like the ranger said. Angelique fidgeted a little and continued her attempt to appear to be bored. I didn’t see where she went to get the papers, but he didn’t tell her to run downstairs to get them. Does that mean he keeps his papers on this main floor?
Angelique internally fumed that she hadn’t moved in time to watch the girl when she first left. But perhaps one of the other women noticed something she hadn’t.
“Everything seems to be in order,” the Chosen mage said. “I will send for you when we are ready for an attunement. Where will you be staying in the meantime?”
“Ohh, no.” Elle brandished a finger at him until her spectacles almost slipped off her nose and she had to wrestle them back into place. “We will not be telling you where the Mademoiselle chooses to retire—she has no use for your lewd advances!”
Nefari stared at Elle, and his forehead started to wrinkle again.
If we ever want to confuse the enemy and throw their lives into chaos, we should send out Elle, Angelique decided.
“No,” Elle continued. “We will be returning in two weeks.”
“Two weeks?” Nefari sputtered. “I cannot possibly finish it in two weeks!”
“Then consider it a progress report so we can make certain you are producing a goods that is worthy of Mademoiselle Mystrim!” Elle snapped.
Nefari frowned. “I am a busy man. I don’t have time to play attendant to you.”
Gabrielle sighed, then glided across the room, making for Angelique, Quinn, and the hallway.
“Two weeks!” Elle clarified as she hopped after Gabrielle, scurrying down the hallway. “We’ll return in two weeks!”
Nefari frowned but gestured for Angelique and Quinn to exit the showroom ahead of him.
As Quinn and Angelique strolled down the hallway, Angelique glanced at the doors, but didn’t seen any differentiating details between the doors that would hint what lay behind them.
When Gabrielle reached the front door, she pointedly looked to Elle.
Elle shuffled ahead, intending to push it open, but just before her fingers grazed the iron handle, the Chosen mage spoke.
“Before the esteemed Mademoiselle Mystrim leaves, I must ask you, who recommended my work?” Although the mage’s voice was casual, it made the hairs on the back of Angelique’s neck prickle.
This is a test.
Gabrielle flicked her fan open and fanned herself, then twitched her nose.
“Numerous stores we visited reported that you were the manufacturer of the charms,” Elle sniffed in disapproval. “Mademoiselle said as much when we told you why we’d come.”
“But you had no reason to think I was capable of something that could protect you against the likes of Angelique,” the Chosen mage pointed out. “Was