Mr. Baree nodded. “The House comes first,” he said, repeating the ancient adage I’d heard probably the day I was born. “Which means you’re now our top priority. If some folks are displeased or House Medeis loses a bit of its austerity, it doesn’t matter. You are far more important.”
He meant to be encouraging.
Or supportive.
Or…something.
But those words made my stomach heave.
It felt so wrong! How could you prioritize like that? Sure, it was how wizarding Houses were supposed to operate, but I’d never seen it so brutally displayed for me.
Everyone in House Medeis would prioritize my wellbeing over everything.
“Right, well, I’m fine. So, in we go!” I trundled into motion—if I stood there and listened any more there was a very good chance I was going to throw up. “Are there any more representatives from our close allies I should greet?” I chattered to fill the silence.
“Not any that matter,” Felix sniffed.
“Well said,” Mr. Baree growled.
I slipped back inside the funeral parlor before the others could join me.
My eyes automatically slid to the viewing room where my parents’ coffins were, but I jerked my gaze away and peered around the foyer.
Mason was standing with someone at the viewing room door.
Perfect, I could ask him if I had missed anything.
I slipped through the straggling mourners—with my height I got mistaken as a high school student pretty often, so no one paid any attention as I padded around them, bits and pieces of their conversation reaching me.
“Drake struck down a law that would have allotted space for another wolf Pack in northern Minnesota.”
“You’re surprised?”
“No, just disgusted he can control our Regional Committee of Magic.”
“Vampires rule the Midwest, my friend…”
The rest of the exchange fell out of my hearing range as I edged around the two tall women—werewolves, judging by the gold gleams in their eyes.
Ugh. Politics.
Politics I’d soon have to worry about as the House Medeis Adept.
I briefly shut my eyes. My life had become a waking nightmare. Losing my parents had torn a hole in my heart, and being responsible for House Medeis was a different level of horror. But the politics, the leading…how was I going to manage it? Especially once everyone in my House started going back to work.
Adept was considered a full-time position, so I’d spend my days waffling through my new workload. But besides Great Aunt Marraine, everyone else had jobs—or school. (The only reason I still didn’t have college was because I had luckily finished my business degree a semester early, in the winter.)
A part of me felt angry with my parents that they hadn’t better prepared me, but it wasn’t their fault. Heirs receive the first part of their training when they turn twenty, and then receive more responsibilities and training after they reach twenty-five.
I hadn’t ever questioned that policy before…until now.
Another breath and a correction to my posture, and I made myself cross the remaining distance to Mason. I was surprised to find he was talking to a wizard from House Tellier. Medeis and Tellier weren’t enemies, but we weren’t friendly either given Gideon’s tendency to bother me and Momoko’s methods of revenge—which usually involved lightning.
The two spoke in lowered tones, though Mason smiled when he saw me. “Ahh, Adept, we were just talking about you.”
“Yes.” The House Tellier wizard smiled, but it seemed flat and insincere. “When do you think we might observe the grand occasion of your Ascension?”
Ascension was the old and showy ceremony that basically was the handoff of the House to the Heir-turned-Adept. There were a few speeches to give, and I’d get officially sworn in as Adept, but the most important part was that I would make my vows to the House and bind it to me.
The House would then physically change in accordance with my magic and the kind of person I was. It would still keep that Victorian-house-crossed-with-a-chateau feel to it, but it might grow bigger (unlikely) or smaller (most probable), grow some new gardens, or—as had been my dearest childhood dream—sprout a pool.
“I don’t imagine for a couple weeks,” I said. “There’s still a lot to…settle.” My gaze again strayed to the viewing room before I yanked it back.
Mason’s smile turned overpoweringly sympathetic, like too much sugar in your coffee. “Of course, Adept. You need time to mourn your parents.”
“And to notify the Wizard Council, gather the records, and find the House Medeis signet ring,” the House Tellier wizard added. “Unless you already have it?”
“No.” I clasped my hands behind my back so I wouldn’t be tempted to make any rude gestures I would later regret. “Given the tragedy, having my parents’ will read hasn’t been a priority.”
The two wizards exchanged an indiscernible look.
“Of course, Adept,” Mason said smoothly. “If I can be of any service in the meantime, just ask.”
I had been eyeing the Tellier wizard, but when Mason spoke I shifted my attention to him. He said that already. Is he just putting on a show for House Tellier? It seemed my future in politics was grimmer than I thought. “Thanks.”
Mason bowed slightly. “It is my honor—the House comes first, after all.”
Three weeks passed, and the unbearable pain left by my parents’ death settled into a dull ache.
Laughing came more easily, but sleeping was rough. I spent hours every night walking House Medeis.
The magical House was both comforting and a stark reminder that I was less than an Adept should have been—less trained and less skilled.
I’m going to have to come up with a method to supplement my magical power, I reluctantly concluded. Or House Medeis will crumble even though I’m the rightful Heir. I mean, kicking kneecaps and being as squirmy as an eel works for facing off with people like Gideon, but that’s not going to help with politics. But what would work? Stronger allies would be ideal, but who would want to befriend us that didn’t want to when my parents were alive?
I scratched under the elastic waistband of my owl fleece pajama pants. Though it was late spring, nights were still cool, and House Medeis was always a bit drafty—a good thing given wizards tended to run hot most of the time.
The House grumbled under my feet as it turned on a dusty chandelier for me while I ambled down one of the long hallways.
Maybe I should give the senior Medeis wizards more power. It would be unusual, but not entirely unheard of—or unexpected.
I popped into the bathroom and pulled on the knob for cold water, filling my ceramic mug. I turned off the tap before I took a sip, making a face at the steaming hot water.
It seems that the ice-cold shower I had earlier was not because Felix used too much water on the gardens, but because the House is upset. How…wonderful.
I set the mug down on the counter and leaned against a wall covered in blue damask wallpaper. “I’m sorry,” I told the creaking building. “I know you’re growing weaker because I haven’t had my Ascension yet. I’ll get it sorted out soon.”
The water pipes groaned ominously, and the black and white tile under my feet rumbled.
“I’ll call my parents’ lawyer in the morning,” I hastily added. “We still haven’t had their will read or the deed transferred, and the signet is stored with all of that. I think.”
My answer must have satisfied the House, because it finally shut up. I considered trying for cold water again, but decided not to push it.
If I had Ascended and become the proper Adept, I could command the House to give me whatever kind of water I wanted. Supposedly I’d be able to sort of communicate with it rather than just guess at the source of its foul moods. But until then, it seemed like I’d be getting hot drinking water and cold showers.
I exited the bathroom and shuffled back up the hallway. I was trying to decide between heading to the library to find a book to read or going to the kitchen for a snack when a door creaked.
Curious, I swung around and jumped when I found Mason standing right behind me. “Geez, Mason, you scared me.” I took a few steps backwards, but Mason grabbed me by the shoulders, stopping me.
His face was shadowed in the flickering hallway light. “We need to talk.”
“Sure,” I agreed as I adjusted my fleece pajama pants again. “Sometime tomorrow or…?” I frowned when I studied Mason and saw he wasn’t dressed in sleepwear like me, but a crisp, pristine suit with the House Medeis coat of arms—which had a rampant leopard and a white unicorn rearing over a shield—over its breastpocket.
“Now,” Mason said.
The wind shrieked as it whistled through the trees just outside, and I thought I felt House Medeis quiver.
“Fine,” I said. “What about?” I tried to ease out of his grasp, but he dug his fingers into my shoulders.
“You’re aware we are related?” Mason said.
“Distantly, yeah. Aren’t you, like, my third cousin three times removed—or something?”
Mason relaxed, slightly. “Yes, I have Medeis blood in my veins—though it’s so little, wizard law won’t count it. But what I lack in pedigree I make up for in power.”
Why is there something unnerving about the way he’s talking? I tried to lean so he would have to step more into the light—I might be able to read something in his expression—but he pulled me back.
I licked my lips. “You’re obviously known for being strong in magic. It’s why you’re the youngest senior wizard in House Medeis.” He was weirding me out enough that I tried to nonchalantly feel the pocket in my pajama pants for my cellphone, but I must have left it in my room.
“Precisely—whereas you have the blue blood of the Medeis, but are practically a dud,” Mason said.
I sighed and fluffed my hair with a hand. “Is this about me not having much magic? Because I already know we’ll have to come up with another alternative to keep our power consolidated. But that’s something I should be discussing with all the senior wizards—”