Nic sighed, tugging her hand away to pace, the lighter gown swirling with the vigor of her movements. “Oh no, it absolutely is a problem. A huge problem. Alise says she doesn’t want it, which … obviously that’s not a sentiment I understand.”

“Does her accepting a contract with another house preclude her from becoming Lady Elal in time?”

Nic wagged a finger at him. “Good question, and no, it wouldn’t. Not typically anyway. The naming and training of heirs isn’t a standardized process across the Convocation. Each house—indeed, each house head—handles it as they prefer, frequently changing their minds according to whim. Very often presumptive heirs and secondary candidates will be sent to other houses on limited contracts, so the wizards can learn various kinds of expertise, along with a variety of ways of doing business and in order to gain a certain intimacy with the other houses.”

“Ah.” That’s what he’d suspected. “More spying.”

Nic held up her hands. “The Convocation runs on spying.”

“I thought that was gossip.”

“Same thing, really.”

She had a point.

“In this case, however,” Nic continued, expression somber, “we have to face two grim possibilities. Either Alise is, as she claims, operating without our father’s knowledge and permission, which is never a good thing, even if we weren’t already at cross-purposes with House Elal. If we aren’t at war with Elal already, this will seal it. Gabriel, we have to make plans for what happens when they, or the Convocation, or House Sammael—or all at once—come after us.”

“I do have a plan,” he replied. “I’ll handle whatever they throw at us.”

She groaned in frustration. “That does not count as a plan!”

He considered whether to tell her that he, in fact, hoped they’d come to him. That he welcomed the opportunity to do more than piss on Elal lands and steal Elal’s favored daughter. Never in his wildest dreams of vengeance had he imagined winning two of Elal’s heirs to his own house. He’d never quite found the words to explain his vendetta against Elal to Nic, and the reasons for it. He’d hoped time would bring her to his side, which indeed it seemed to be doing. “I’m not afraid of House Elal, or House Sammael, or the Convocation,” he told her instead. “I refuse to cower before their blustering.”

“You should be,” Nic replied without venom. “It’s far more than blustering.”

“You keep telling me that I’m powerful and unpredictable, that the Convocation has no idea what they’re dealing with in me,” he argued. “You also urge me to have confidence in my wizardry and what I can accomplish. Therefore, I think you should trust me to protect you and everyone in House Phel.”

She gazed at him with a long, contemplative stare. “You never do anything by halves, do you, Gabriel? I wanted you confident, yes, not overcome with hubris.”

“You’re only just now realizing the level of my hubris?” he teased, but she didn’t smile. “Nic,” he said more seriously, “I knew when I set out to reestablish House Phel that I would be fighting an uphill battle. I’ve reached higher than I imagined possible in the beginning. This is yet another ledge, and I’m stronger than I ever was because I have you and everything you’ve helped me build.”