“You don’t understand,” she told Asa emphatically, trying to restrain her anger. “I love Gabriel.”

He relaxed and actually patted her arm. “Of course you do. It’s in a familiar’s nature, and in the nature of the bonding, for you to feel that way. But there are other wizards in the world.”

She shook off his hand with enough force that he reeled back, shocked. “I like you, Asa,” she said in a harsh whisper she hoped wouldn’t carry. “We’ve always been friends, so I hope you’ll take this question in the right way. Do you think Laryn loves you?”

Blinking, he actually looked to Laryn, who stood brooding by the window, waiting to be called on again. “Laryn is my familiar. We’re bonded. And we’re having a child, also, as you know,” he said, as if that answered anything.

Nic couldn’t help laughing. “Do you even hear yourself? That doesn’t answer my question.”

Asa stiffened, clearly offended. “You know as well as I do, Lady Phel, that the wizard–familiar relationship isn’t based on something as transient and subject to whimsy as love. It’s a working relationship, not a romantic one, which makes it all the stronger.”

“No wonder you don’t understand what I’m telling you,” she replied with sincere pity, though she was acutely aware of her turnabout. She’d spent a great deal more time with Gabriel and his radical ideas than anyone else, so she shouldn’t expect others steeped in Convocation brainwashing—as Gabriel had once accused her of being—to automatically open their own minds. “Give it some thought,” she suggested. “Remember, you’ll be joined until one of you dies, raising at least one child together. Consider what your life might be like if you two developed at least an affection for each other, as opposed to not.”

“I’m terribly fond of Laryn,” he protested. “I take very good care of her.”

“That’s lovely. How does she feel about you?” Nic was afraid she knew the answer, and that she was sowing seeds of discord by pushing this. Still, she looked over to Gabriel, standing back slightly as his parents spoke softly with Selly. He’d want her to point these things out.

Asa looked at Laryn again, considering. “I assume she’s fond of me also.” But his voice held a note of uncertainty.

“But not that she loves you?” Nic persisted.

Asa frowned. “As I said, the wizard–familiar relationship isn’t—”

“Yes, yes, I know,” Nic interrupted, brushing that absurd argument away. “You also told me that the reason I think I love Gabriel is because it’s in a familiar’s nature, and in the nature of the bonding, for me to feel that way. How can both be equally true?”

Asa’s frown deepened. “I’m sure there’s a logical fallacy in your argument.”

“When you find it, let me know.”

“Wait.” Asa stopped her as she went to move past him. “Why are you concerned? I was under the impression that you and Laryn were not particular friends.”

That was true. Indeed, Laryn glanced over just then, expression set in smoldering dislike. Or, perhaps, in general unhappiness. Who knew how much of Laryn’s resentments sprang from her own misery, simply latching on to those who seemed to have it better than she did? Though Nic had to concede that she did have it better than Laryn. She’d been fantastically lucky in finding Gabriel—or, rather, in him finding her. She could be generous enough to wish that for everyone, even the people who hated her. “I don’t have to be particular friends with Laryn to wish her well,” she explained to Asa. “And it seems to me that she’s not happy.”