One of Gilfra’s servants was hurrying across the garden toward them.
“Lunch,” Will announced immediately.
He glanced at Arien. “You’re really telling Aunt Gilfra about the mana today?”
“I think I have to.”
Will grinned. “She still has almost a week to organize another party before registration.”
“Thank you. I hadn’t considered that.”
“Happy to help.”
Arien sighed.
He had spent the last few weeks allowing Gilfra to believe he was still choosing between the martial path and administration. That excuse would survive only until registration. The moment he entered the House of Magic, she would know he had been hiding something from her.
If she was going to find out anyway, Arien preferred to tell her himself and control how much she learned. Mana was impossible to hide, but the Life Aspect was enough to explain his change of plans. Everything else could remain his.
“Besides,” he added, “if I want to keep coming back here on weekends, it probably wouldn’t hurt if she believed I trusted her enough to tell her before registration made it obvious.”
“You actually want to come back?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because some of us appreciate civilization.”
“I’m staying on campus. Malbek says the training facilities are incredible.”
Arien shook his head. Will would never understand. Sharing a room with four other boys sounded like an adventure to him, while Arien was already mourning the loss of his private room.
House of Magic students were housed in pairs rather than groups of five, which was at least marginally less horrifying. There would still be another person in the room, though, and worse, no private bathroom. He had only recently rediscovered hot showers. Losing them again felt unnecessarily cruel.
“Young masters,” the servant called as she finally reached them. “Lunch will be served shortly. Lady Holfberg asked me to remind Master Will that he should freshen up before coming to the dining room.”
Will looked down at himself, and Arien followed his gaze.
One leg of his trousers was smeared with mud and streaked green from the grass.
Perhaps Gilfra had a point.
The four of them sat around the dining table finishing dessert. Or rather, Will and Arien were finishing their second helpings of blueberry ice cream. Malbek and Aunt Gilfra had already moved on to coffee.
“I’m going to miss this,” Gilfra said as Arien scraped the last traces of ice cream from his bowl. She looked from Will to him and sighed. “The estate will feel terribly empty once you leave.”
Arien glanced across the table at her.
During the past few weeks, Arien had learned that Gilfra could make even casual remarks sound theatrical, though this time he suspected she genuinely meant it.
She was a striking woman, probably somewhere in middle age, though Arien had become increasingly uncertain how useful appearances were for estimating age in Erador. Her thick blonde curls were almost suspiciously lustrous, and her skin showed fewer signs of age than he would have expected.
Expensive elixirs probably helped.
She favored elaborate dresses, bright jewelry, and necklines that occasionally made Arien concentrate very carefully on maintaining eye contact.
“You can always organize another party,” Will suggested.
Gilfra released an even more dramatic sigh. “You don’t understand, darling. It wasn’t until you came to live with me that I realized what this house had been missing.” She spread her hands. “Children’s laughter. Running feet. Games in the garden—”
“I don’t remember playing many games.”
“Your obstacle course!”
“That’s training.”
“You enjoy it.”
“That doesn’t make it a game.”
Gilfra looked to Arien for support. Arien concentrated on his empty bowl.
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“At first, I was terrified you would break your neck on that thing,” she continued. “But then I saw how happy it made you.”
Will frowned. “One of the servants said you wanted it removed because it spoiled the garden.”
“Who told you that?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Was it Helia? That girl has perhaps a quarter of a functioning brain, and I have told her repeatedly not to—”
“It doesn’t matter.” Will waved her off. “You can tear it down once I leave for the Academy.”
Gilfra’s annoyance vanished almost as quickly as it had appeared.
“Do you really have to go this year?”
Will groaned. “Aunt—”
“I’m only asking. Several of my friends delayed their children’s enrollment by a year. There’s nothing shameful about arriving better prepared.”
“They probably hadn’t unlocked the System yet.”
“Some hadn’t.”
“Then they didn’t have much choice.” Will shook his head. “A year at the Academy will do more for me than another year here. And I’m not unprepared. Master Deryl and Master Yokai are excellent teachers.” He paused, apparently remembering his manners. “And I’m grateful you hired them,” he added.
“I only want what’s best for you.”
“I know.”
Then Will pointed his spoon at Arien. “Besides, he’s a year younger than me and he’s going too.”
Gilfra looked toward Arien. “Yes, but Arien is still deciding what he wants to study, aren’t you, dear? Administration, perhaps? It’s safer and still profitable”
Arien had been waiting for a chance to bring it up without forcing the conversation. This was probably as good as he was going to get.
“Actually, that’s changed.”
Gilfra tilted her head. “Oh?”
“I unlocked the System before leaving Ribenne.”
Her eyebrows rose. “You did?”
“Yes.”
Arien gave her an apologetic look. “I should probably have told you earlier. I just wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with it yet, and everything happened rather quickly after that.”
“Arien, darling, you have nothing to apologize for. That’s wonderful news. Have you decided on the House of the Sword, then?”
“Not exactly.”
He glanced at Malbek. The mage was watching him over the rim of his coffee cup.
“Malbek explained the different Houses to me. After speaking with him, I think the House of Magic makes considerably more sense.”
Gilfra went very still. “You can see mana?”
“I do.”
Gilfra needed a moment to answer, which Arien found oddly satisfying.
“Well.” She slowly set down her cup. “That certainly changes things.”
“There’s more,” Arien said. “I’ve already discovered an Aspect.”
Gilfra’s attention sharpened. “Which one?”
Arien hesitated. This was the part he had actually debated revealing. Mana would become impossible to hide the moment he registered for the House of Magic, and his supposed System awakening would become obvious with it. The Life Aspect was another matter.
But it gave Gilfra a simple explanation for why his plans had changed so suddenly. It also gave her a reason to consider keeping him close worth the inconvenience.
He could live with that.
“Life.”
Gilfra blinked.
“A Life Aspect?”
“Malbek thinks I could become a Healer.”
Gilfra looked at Malbek. Malbek gave the smallest possible nod.
She turned back to Arien with a broad smile.
“Oh, darling, that is wonderful.”
Her reaction was warmer than Arien had anticipated.
“I know several Healers in Wayhold. Good ones, not those dreadful little back-alley practitioners who learn three tricks and begin calling themselves physicians. I could introduce you.”
“You really don’t need to—”
“Nonsense.”
“I’ll be living on campus soon anyway.”
“All the more reason to arrange something before then.”
Will slowly lowered his spoon.
“You could meet them here,” Gilfra continued. “Somewhere comfortable. I’m sure Master Velrin would come if I asked, and perhaps Lady Assera. although she and Velrin haven’t spoken since that dreadful business with the hospital board, so perhaps separately…”
Arien began to understand the scale of his mistake.
“Really, Aunt Gilfra, you’ve already done more than enough for me.”
“Oh, nonsense, dear.” She waved the objection aside. “Will treats you like a brother. That practically makes you a family as far as I’m concerned.”
For once, Arien couldn’t immediately tell whether that was social maneuvering or simply Gilfra being Gilfra.
Perhaps it didn’t matter.
“Besides, Healers are a very mixed crowd,” she continued. “Some are excellent. Others are barely better than charlatans. And with a valuable Aspect at your age… There will be people who see an inexperienced provincial boy before they see you.”
That part, Arien had no trouble believing.
“I would never forgive myself if someone took advantage of you. Why, this reminds me of a friend of mine whose uncle once hired a young Healer from southern Wyndor—”
Arien glanced toward Will.
His chair was empty.
Malbek’s too.
Traitors.
Over the next half hour, Gilfra introduced him to what appeared to be an inexhaustible catalogue of young provincials who had arrived in Wayhold only to be deceived, cheated, robbed, manipulated, seduced into disastrous contracts, or otherwise ruined by people more experienced than themselves.
Arien nodded at the appropriate moments, produced suitably horrified noises when required, and even asked the occasional question.
Meanwhile, part of his mind was already back in his room in the other wing, thinking about his mattress, his clean sheets, and most importantly, his shower.
Will and Malbek were free to mock Gilfra and flee at the first opportunity.
They hadn’t spent most of their lives sleeping in a smoke-filled room with an entire family, eating bread and cheese for half their meals, and heating bathwater over a fire.
Gilfra might eventually wrap herself around his life like a particularly affectionate constrictor snake, but Arien could live with that.
The woman had a hot shower and served blueberry ice cream.