Trial of Magic (The Fairy Tale Enchantress #4) - K. M. Shea Page 0,227

serve as your personal protection?” the war mage asked.

“Um, no. That won’t be necessary.” Angelique twisted around to look back at the tent. “Stay with Felicienne and Tristisim. I think they’re the most likely targets right now.”

The war mages saluted her. “Yes, Lady Enchantress.”

Angelique waved, but she didn’t quite know if that was the right reaction so she cut it off by scratching her forehead. “Come on, Evariste. I need to get those messages sent as quickly as possible.” She trundled down the street, relaxing when she heard Evariste’s low-pitched chuckle, which almost sounded normal.

He caught up with her quickly. Walking side-by-side with him brought back such a rush of feelings, Angelique couldn’t possibly identify them all—but she knew relief and sheer gratitude led the pack.

“Of course, you must tell Prince Severin and Princess Snow White,” Evariste said. “Snow White deserves to know she may have Chosen mages running around her country, and as you stated, this will greatly affect Prince Severin’s strategy.” He peered up at the sky, which had turned a powder blue as the sun gloriously shone with a joy no one in the Conclave felt. “I look forward to meeting him.”

“He is a very reassuring person to be around,” Angelique said.

“Because he’s so capable?”

“Precisely! He might not know how to modify curses, but he can form a plan for anything and starts working on it immediately.” Angelique nodded her thanks when Evariste opened the door for her.

“I imagine that was quite a relief when the Veneno Conclave was refusing to take action.”

“Very much so. And his wife, Princess Elle, is a great deal of fun.”

“Ahh, yes. She was the one who used to be a Loire Ranger and said you should pose as an herb wizard’s apprentice, yes?”

“That was, perhaps, not her greatest idea considering how I struggled to keep my cover when I spent time with Snow White, but she hadn’t accounted for that when we were planning it,” Angelique said.

“I’m glad for you, Angelique.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ve made friends who understand you and support you.”

Angelique stopped abruptly at the base of a staircase, making Evariste pause on the first step.

“Angel?” he asked.

She turned to face him, then slowly, tentatively, reached out and brushed his hand. When she felt his warm fingers, she relaxed, exhaling deeply.

Evariste studied her, his expression unreadable.

“Sorry.” Angelique cleared her throat and straightened up. “Sometimes I just wonder—or rather, I still have to assure myself that you’re here. I thought I’d be better about it by now, but I’m not.”

Evariste shifted so he faced the top of the staircase. “I see.” He started up the stairs, but when Angelique joined him, he snagged her hand, holding it with a firm sort of gentleness.

He was pacifying her—one could even call it spoiling her. But she didn’t care. The heavens knew how much hadn’t gone her way these last few years. If Evariste was inclined to spoil her, she was going to revel in it.

The tension in her shoulders eased, and Angelique slightly swung their joined hands as they climbed the stairs.

“Where would you like to be when you use your mirror?” Evariste asked.

“I was thinking your office here,” Angelique said.

“Are we going to try and make an escape to the Thicket through the portal in my office?”

“Tempting, but I actually thought that was probably the last place anyone would look for us, and we’ll be left alone for a short while.” Angelique confessed as they left the staircase and marched down a hallway. “And your office should have paper so I can draft my message to Snow White as well.”

“Smart.”

“I have greatly honed my skills at avoiding people who may potentially assign me more work while we were separated.”

“A worthy skill—I approve.”

Angelique laughed, and their conversation continued in a similar vein until they reached Evariste’s study.

Angelique opened the door and paused, shocked by the sight of Evariste’s ruined gateway. It had collapsed in on itself, leaving a pile of rubble that lacked even a spark of magic.

Evariste leaned over her shoulder. “Ahh, I expected that. It’s the limit of my magic.”

She nudged some of the rubble with the toe of her boot. “Your limit is that you can’t raise a gate in the presence of dark magic, isn’t it?”

“Yes. The gate will collapse on itself—as you can see here. The use of black magic last night must have tainted the place enough that it triggered my limit.”

Angelique frowned. “If your magic can’t operate in the presence of black magic, how did the Chosen get