And she sent for her sister. Along with a carafe of wine. Though it wasn’t yet noon, she figured they’d need it. At least this one thing Nic could attempt to resolve.

Alise arrived quickly enough that Nic figured her sister had been awaiting the summons. Well, that and Alise likely didn’t have much else to do. Alise meandered through the suite, making soft comments to the page who led her out to the balcony, then stood awkwardly a moment, nodding a cautious hello.

Nic gestured to the other rocking chair. “Please, sit. Wine?”

Alise sat, perching on the edge of her chair warily, and accepted the glass Nic poured. “This is lovely,” Alise said, gesturing at the view of the river, the low, lush hills beyond. “In fact, Lord Phel seems to have ensconced you in the best part of the house.” She didn’t quite make it a question, but Nic set aside the stack of correspondence—along with her supreme irritation that House Iblis had counter-offered yet again, further stalling the resolution of the Narlis problem—and lifted her own glass in a toast.

“To family,” Nic offered, rather amused by the suspicious glimmer in Alise’s dark eyes. “It’s not Elal wine,” she said by way of apology when Alise pursed her lips at the taste, giving the glass a dubious look. “And yes, this is the core part of the house that remained standing even after the family abandoned it. We’ve made more progress on this section, and Gabriel—Lord Phel, that is—was concerned that I be housed in comfort, if not in Elal style.”

“And are iron collars de rigueur for House Phel?” Alise bit out. “Because I know that’s not Elal style by any stretch.”

“How did you even hear about that?” Nic demanded, half in irritation and half in resignation for the ways of the Convocation. “I think maybe five people saw me wearing that cursed collar.”

“Then he did put you in one,” Alise pounced on that morsel of information, expression hard. In that moment, she looked just like Papa, full of righteous indignation, Elal magic sparkling in the air around her.

Despite her frustration, Nic’s heart warmed. Apparently, Alise cared about her, acting out of that concern, even though Nic hadn’t managed that apology yet. “No,” she replied firmly. “Gabriel abhors collars of all kinds. Here is the truth, though I am asking your discretion in sharing this information.” Her gaze strayed to the NDA template she needed to copy over, knowing that she should ask Alise to sign it but somehow unwilling to risk the tentative peace between them by broaching the topic. Besides, where their father was concerned, his might would trump any NDA.

“When I escaped, the Convocation sent hunters after me.” She held up a hand when Alise frowned, opening her mouth. “No, I’d never heard of them either, but the people on the escape conduit who helped me had. Though they’d never seen a hunter until the creatures came after me. The hunters aren’t visible to anyone without magic, but they are physical beings, after a fashion. They’re clearly a combination of Ariel animal magic and Tadkiel justice-seeking. Perhaps some Hanneil psychic manipulation is in there, too.” And Sammael’s cruel punishment, she wondered.