Two days later, Father summoned me to his studio just before I was to leave for the Lioren estate.

  Under the cold scrutiny of his gaze, he reminded me to act cordial but distant, to deflect political conversation, to leave before the evening grew informal.

  I wondered what exactly Father's beliefs were when it came to Sirius, for him to be so anxious.

  The carriage ride was longer than expected. The Liorens, contrary to what I'd supposed, did not live at the heart of the capital, but uphill—at the rocky northwestern coast.

  Their residence was a tall, white stone rising among curated but plentiful gardens. The green vines claimed parts of the walls which, alongside the forest towering behind, made the house seem part of the ecosystem rather than something that was built to challenge nature itself.

  The first thing that I noticed when I got out of the carriage was the sea. It commanded the attention from all of my senses. The salty scent carried by the breeze, the dark waters swallowing the horizon, the sound of the water challenging the rocks at the cliff.

  It was no wonder the Liorens had decided to build their residence upon these hills.

  "Lady Velmire," a well dressed middle-aged man greeted me with a small inclination of his head. "Welcome to the Lioren estate. Lord Lioren is receiving guests in the west salon."

  Roderick shot me one last curious glance before disappearing around the corner with the carriage, guided by a footman.

  "Thank you," I replied as I clasped my sweaty hands in front of me and followed him inside.

  The interior was just as beautiful and luminous as the exterior of the house. The white marble of the floor and stairs was bathed in warm enchanted lights hanging from the ceiling in elegant lines. The walls were dominated by tall windows framed in golden filigree arranged into protective runes.

  It wasn't the painted landscapes decorating the walls nor the fragrant flowers sitting in wide blue vases flanking the stairs that rooted me to the spot. It wasn't even the stained glass dome refracting the light into the room—it was what stood beneath it. Bathing in the rainbow of colors stood proudly a Thoremir Willow. An old tree, judging by its size alone, its pale bark twisted upward through the open space of the foyer until its branches brushed the glass above. Its long silver leaves hung like veils around the trunk, drifting slowly in the still air.

  No statues guarded the entrance.

  No trophies of magical conquest lined the walls.

  The Liorens had placed a living tree at the center of their home.

  "Beautiful, isn't it?"

  I blinked and turned to face the owner of the feminine voice.

  A tall woman who appeared to be slightly younger than Father stood at the bottom of the stairs. I had not heard her approach.

  Her blond hair was gathered loosely at the back of her head, a few silver strands catching the colored light of the dome. She wore no elaborate jewels—only a thin band of gold around her wrist and another at her ring finger.

  Yet the quiet confidence with which she regarded the room made the space seem arranged around her.

  I had seen her before.

  Once, perhaps twice.

  The exact moment escaped me but the impression had remained.

  Lady Ellara Lioren.

  "It is," was all I could muster.

  "My husband insisted the house be built around it," she explained, blue eyes watching the tree fondly. "It seemed a shame to remove something that had been here far longer than we have."

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  So the Liorens had not resided here for generations. I wondered briefly if they had been at the high quarters before.

  "Lady Alya Velmire, I presume."

  I gathered some courage before approaching her. I was expecting even the smallest sign of disdain. For some reason, it would have hurt more coming from a Lioren than it did from any other pureblood mage.

  Her gaze was curious, lingering on inquisitive, but there were no traces of contempt. No judgement.

  I exhaled. "Yes, Lady Lioren. Thank you for receiving me," I lowered my head in respect.

  Her gaze softened. "My son mentioned you would be joining us today."

  My stomach did that uncomfortable twist it tended to do when Lioren was involved.

  "...yes. He was kind enough to invite me."

  "I'm glad you accepted the invitation," she observed me for a moment longer before smiling. "The others are at the west salon. Though I suspect some might be at the west terrace enjoying the sun before the afternoon grows colder. Come, I'll introduce you."

  Lady Lioren nodded once to the middle aged man who had received me as we made our way down the corridors. She kept a leisured pace, allowing me to observe the many paintings hanging on the walls and the view from the windows.

  "You have many plants inside," I commented.

  Lady Lioren laughed briefly. "It's unusual, isn't it?"

  Heat crept into my cheeks. "It's beautiful."

  She glanced back at me, her smile made her look younger. "My mother-in-law had a deep love for plants. Baeliar—my husband— told me she would not accept flowers from her husband if they did not come in a pot."

  I chuckled. "So the idea of keeping live plants inside came from her?"

  She nodded. "Indeed. Actually—"

  "Mother, you've stolen my guest." Sirius was ahead of us, leaning on the wall next to a tall door and watching his mother with fond amusement.

  Lady Lioren scoffed lightly. "You were taking your time."

  Their exchange carried an ease I had never seen among the noble families of Belaria.

  Sirius pushed himself off the wall, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small smile.

  "I was giving you the opportunity to interrogate her first."

  His mother scoffed. My heart stuttered. "Sirius Lioren! I was doing no such thing."

  His gaze moved to me then, devious smile still intact. "Lady Velmire."

  I inclined my head slightly. "Lord Lioren."

  "Well," Lady Lioren said, smoothing an invisible crease from her gown while giving her son a look I could not decipher. "Now that Lady Velmire has reached the west salon, I believe that my presence has become unnecessary. Lady Velmire, I hope we will get the pleasure of your company again."

  "Mother—"

  But she was already moving away, her steps unhurried as she crossed the corridor.

  Sirius watched her go for a second before turning to me. The faint amusement in his expression softened into something quieter.

  "So you did come."

  My shoulders relaxed. "Were you hoping I wouldn't?" I raised an eyebrow.

  He exhaled a laugh. "Not particularly," he answered with a glint in his eyes. "Though I suspected there was a chance your father might find a last minute reason to prevent your attendance."

  My shoulders shook in silent laughter at the mental image. "It probably crossed his mind."

  His smile widened. "Come with me."

  "Where?" I thought the west salon was right behind that tall door.

  "The inner garden."

  He must have interpreted my confusion for reluctance so he added, "I promise to return you before your reputation suffers permanent damage."

  I studied him for a moment. There was no hesitation in his posture, no hint that the invitation was anything but obvious. But also,no hint that he would take a denial as an offense. I felt like the choice was mine.

  Which, in its own way, made it more dangerous.

  Still, the west salon awaited behind us with its inevitable circle of polite interrogation.

  The inner garden suddenly felt like the most comfortable option.

  "Very well."

  Sirius guided me down some sunlit corridors until we reached a glass door. He pushed it open and gestured me to precede him.

  Warm air drifted through the doorway.

  The scent reached me first. Fresh earth, citrus, and something faintly sweet I could not immediately place.

  Inside, glass arced overhead in wide panels, allowing the late afternoon light to spill across winding stone paths and clusters of green so dense they seemed to swallow the marble architecture around them.

  A narrow stream cut quietly through the garden, its water catching the light as it moved between polished stones.

  "You built a forest inside the house," I breathed.

  Sirius closed the door behind us.

  "My parents tried a smaller one first," he commented lightly. "Apparently my grandmother found it disappointing."

  A chuckle escaped me. "The same grandmother that only accepted potted plants?"

  He turned to me with raised eyebrows. "The very one."

  I took a few steps along the path, my eyes falling on the variety of flowers and small trees filling the room.

  Sirius followed a step behind me, allowing me to explore.

  "May I ask you a question?"

  I tuned to him with a raised eyebrow. "Would it stop you if I said no?"

  A laugh. "Would you say no to a curious man?"

  I suppressed my amusement. "Go ahead then, Lord Lioren."

  "At President Aurelis's New Year Soirée," my smile melted. "Your family stood all night by House Orapher's side. Does it involve what the rumors are saying?"

  I wanted to deny it, or to evade the question. To tell him not to heed to what the rumors said. But no words came out of my mouth. I focused on the way the water created small crests where it touched stone.

  "Eryx Orapher is not a good man, Alya." My fingers tightened into a fist as my throat constricted. I swallowed down the lump.

  "You honestly believe my father chose him for his goodness?" I hated how harsh that had come out, and hated the tremor in my voice at the end.

  Sirius was quiet for a moment. The faint rush of water and the distant rustle of leaves against glass suddenly seemed louder.

  "I believe," he began slowly, "your father rarely makes choices based on goodness."

  Then you have your answer, Lioren.

  I exhaled, wishing for the interrogation at the west salon. It felt wrong for Sirius to be the one making my heart twist with discomfort.

  "My father," I began, hoping my technique would succeed. Hoping Sirius would let it go. "He mentioned your family... changed political factions two generations ago. How did that come about?"

  Sirius studied me for a moment. His expression was foreign to me. He was not looking at me measuring my rank, my usefulness, my father's shadow behind me nor looking for a weakness to exploit. At least, it did not feel that way.

  A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, but his eyes remained....

  The last person who had directed a gaze like that to me had been Hana.

  The realization did little to help me navigate the labyrinth that was this man, it only pressed heavier in my chest.

  "You wish to change the subject."

  For the second time that day, a Lioren caused my cheeks to heat.

  "I wish to ask a question of my own."

  "Mmm..." his gaze turned toward the stream winding through the garden.

  "My grandfather, Arthen Lioren," he said at last, "had a habit of paying attention to things most mages preferred not to see."

  His gaze returned to me. "One day, that became a problem."

  From the second arc forward, things will take a much darker turn, so enjoy the calm while it lasts lol.