“You suspect House Elal was behind the fall of House Phel,” she said finally, her tone neutral.

He’d lit their path with some moonlight, but it wasn’t enough to show her expression. Relieved that the topic was at last out in the open, he let out a breath. “Yes.”

“And you’ve thought so for a long time,” she clarified.

“I’d heard the stories people passed around, about the old days,” he said, by way of explanation. “When I began reading the books on magic in the library, trying to learn all I could, I began to see a pattern, details from those tall tales aligning with the information about the magic specialties of various houses. Elal matched perfectly.”

“Ghosts, demons, and goblins plaguing the countryside. It does fit,” Nic murmured. “Is that why you wanted me to hear it for myself?”

He should’ve known her agile mind would put that together, too. “In part,” he admitted. He didn’t add that the other part was that he’d been too much of a coward to come out and tell her. “You know these things better than I do. I knew that I could’ve come to the wrong conclusion, so I wanted to discover if you’d see the same pattern without me leading you in that direction.” That sounded good, even if it wasn’t all of it.

“Is that why you risked everything to try for me in the Betrothal Trials?” she asked with deadly neutrality. “You wanted revenge against House Elal.”

He wanted to tell her she was wrong. He also wouldn’t lie to her. “In the beginning, yes. There was a symmetry to it I couldn’t resist.”

“Understandable.” She said nothing more.

Cursing under his breath, he stopped Vale, swung down, then caught Salve’s bridle. “Will you come down and talk to me?”

She regarded him, eyes shadowed. He thought she might refuse, might point out in her acerbic way that they were already talking, but she finally nodded, holding out her hands for him to lift her down. Once he set her on her feet, he held her by the waist for a long moment, then brushed a hand over her cheek, tangling his fingers in the curls at her temple. She’d looked so right, so perfect at his parents’ old kitchen table, eating cake and teasing his dad about his secret recipe. He knew she’d repeatedly told him she wouldn’t—couldn’t—leave him, but he couldn’t escape the sinking fear that he’d destroyed everything. She might be compelled to stay with him, but nothing could make her love him if she didn’t.

“Remember the miniature?” he asked her.

She nodded. “You carried it with you when you came to House Elal to claim me, and after, when you chased me.”

“I carried it all the time,” he corrected. “Yes, you caught my attention because you were an Elal, and I suspected Elal of being my house’s enemy. I knew very little about the Convocation then. I needed a familiar, I’d been told, if I wanted to accomplish anything. You were available, powerful, beautiful…”