He unbent slightly, putting his hands over hers. “In the eye of the beholder, I suppose.”

“No,” she said firmly, ducking under one big arm to circle in front of him. “Beholders don’t always know. Don’t people label something monstrous out of fear and ignorance?”

“I don’t know about that.”

“In all of the stories,” she insisted, “the monster is unknown, all the scarier because it’s always in the shadows, barely glimpsed. Once it becomes known, it ceases to be frightening. It even ceases to be monstrous.”

“Clearly I haven’t read as many stories as you have.”

“Clearly that’s your problem,” she replied with impish humor. But he didn’t respond in kind. His wizard-black eyes regarded her gravely, a world of sorrow in them.

Nic knew she was more accustomed to the change magic wielding wrought, turning wizards’ eyes to that unfathomable, starless blackness, but it grieved her that Daisy only seemed to mourn the loss of blue and wasn’t able to see how beautiful Gabriel was. Yes, an accident in moon magic had turned his hair silver-white, but for the one black streak at his temple, but he was strikingly handsome, even more so for the startling contrasts. She framed his beautiful face in her hands, then combed the fingers of her left hand through the black streak that echoed his intense gaze. “Our actions define us, Gabriel. Not our potentials, even the magical ones.”

His lips twitched in a sorrowful, crooked half smile. “Is that Convocation wisdom?”

It wasn’t, actually. And Nic had surprised herself with it. “That’s Nic wisdom.”

“Even better.” He sighed and gathered her close, leaning his cheek against her hair. “What would I do without you?”

“Fortunately, you’ll never have to find out,” she answered, hugging him tightly.

“We should go to dinner,” he finally said. “Everyone is waiting. I had to authorize a second round of wine.”

“They’ll all be drunk.”

“No doubt.” At least he sounded drily amused. “They were well on their way when I came to find you.”

“Apologies,” she said on a wince. “But Daisy wanted to ask about Selly, and I didn’t feel I could walk away.”

“I appreciate that you handled that conversation.” He let her go but tucked her hand in the crook of his arm, escorting her out of the room.

“I was happy to.”

He glanced at her with a sardonic expression. “Happy to?”

Well, happy to spare him the pain of it. She gave him a bright smile. “A happy wizard makes for a happy familiar!”

He groaned, shaking his head at her, then sobered. “I’m not, you know. A happy person. Or wizard. I don’t want you to be forever bashing your own self brainless trying to change that.”

“You’re wrong, you know,” she replied quietly, because they were approaching the dining hall. Though the loud conversation rolling down the hall would’ve made it impossible for anyone to overhear her.

Gabriel snorted. “You were the one to call me brooding, self-loathing, sullen, and prone to sudden explosions of anger.”