I glance at Louis and know that he would understand. There is, indeed, an intimacy to be found in the company of another witch that is inevitably absent when I am with a non-witch. I know Louis would have me believe that only a witch could ever truly understand another witch. And the viscount is a very fine witch indeed, and has grown into a necromancer worthy of respect. And he is my friend, and I do feel in need of a friend just now.

“Well, Lilith, I am astonished to find myself sitting alone with you, and at your own instigation,” says Louis, his bright blue eyes laughing. “Should I be encouraged?”

“I could not endure another word on the subject of weddings.”

“Lady Annabel is somewhat single-minded on the topic.”

“With Father gone, marrying me off has become her chief concern.”

“And she does enjoy it so. Why not humor her? Marry me before the month is out and make your dear mother happy.”

“Charmingly put, Louis.”

“I’ve tried charm”—he shakes his head—“waste of time on you, Lily, you deflect my best attempts as if you were clad in armor.”

“I can’t possibly agree to some huge society wedding while we are in mourning.”

“There is nothing to stop us naming a day, a date that reflects a respectable pause, of course, but at least it would be a date. A fixed point. Something for us all to look forward to.”

“I really can’t think of weddings, not now. I have new responsibilities. New challenges I must rise to.”

“You will make an excellent Head Witch. I know it.”

I look quickly about me. I am uncomfortable even saying the words to myself in private, let alone somewhere where they might be overheard.

Louis takes my hands in his.

“Darling Lily. You don’t have to do this alone. I will support you in every way possible, if only you’ll let me. You must know that.” He looks at me with disarming affection. I believe he is fond of me, that his interest in me extends beyond pleasing his father. Beyond even simple desire. Is it love, then? Is that what he feels? Why can I not feel it for him?

“Thank you, Louis. I do value your friendship, and, of course, I too look forward to the day when we can be married. But the coven must come first now.” I smile back at him, but it is a guarded, polite smile, and he knows it. I withdraw my hands. “You will attend the inauguration, won’t you?” I ask him.

“Nothing would keep me away. Are you nervous?”

“About the ceremony? No. About stepping into the role my father played so well? I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t daunted.”

“You will be magnificent. And wise.”