Asa’s gaze went to Laryn, who still had her back to them, as if deaf to the entire conversation. “So she could do what?” Asa asked, the question giving Nic a surge of irritation, he sounded so perplexed. No wonder Gabriel chafed at the status of familiars.
“I’m sure she would think of something,” Nic replied drily. “For example, to treat my minor wounds and assess the status of my pregnancy, you don’t need to access your familiar’s magic, do you?”
Asa frowned, his pride pricked. “Not for something so minor, no.”
“Then why is she here?”
Asa gazed at Laryn’s back, as if suddenly wondering that, too. “Well, Iwouldneed her for other patients. Say, for a major healing, for grave injuries or a long-unattended chronic disease, which I suspect may be an issue in this backwater countryside. Also if I have many patients in a row, I’d need to recharge or draw on her actively.”
“So you don’t need her to dance attendance on you constantly.”
Giving her an odd look, Asa said, “I wouldn’t phrase it exactly that way. I do need her available to me. Quickly, in an emergency.”
“It’s a big house, but not that big,” Nic pointed out.
“True…” Asa snapped his fingers at Laryn, who turned obediently. Nic sighed mentally, hoping Gabriel never sawthat. “You may be excused, Laryn.”
Her suspicious dark-brown eyes went to Nic, a flicker of something angry in them. “What would you like me to do?”
Asa looked to Nic, who had to lock down her eyes to keep them from rolling. “Perhaps you could visit your suite,” she suggested, “and make plans for how you’d like to furnish it, including the nursery,” she added on a guess.
Laryn gazed back at her stonily. “Yes, Lady Phel.” She bowed to them both and left.
“How intriguing,” Asa commented, watching Laryn go, and then looking expectantly at Nic. “What did you want to tell me?”
“Pardon?”
“I assumed you wished to have a private conversation, and that’s why you wanted Laryn to be sent away.”
Well, that didn’t go well. “There’s a great deal to do here, and Lord Phel doesn’t approve of idle hands,” she said, wishing that explanation had come to her sooner. “If you want to win his confidence, have Laryn be productively occupied when you’re not in immediate need of her.”
Asa nodded thoughtfully, then patted the desk beside him. “So noted. And, in light of that, and in lieu of a proper examining table, let me take a look at you.”
Oddly self-conscious, she sat beside Asa, lifting her chin as he ran light fingers over the scabs and bruises ringing her throat. “Iron collar, huh?” he asked, though it wasn’t a real question. “Ill-fitting, too. If Lord Phel wants a collar that won’t injure like this—”
“He doesn’t,” Nic interrupted firmly. The surest way for Asa to get on Gabriel’s bad side would be to suggest any kind of collar for Nic. “I mean,” she amended hastily, realizing Asa was getting entirely the wrong idea, “he’s not in favor of collars for familiars at all. If you want this contract, you won’t be either.”
“Hmm.” Asa’s noncommittal hum invited explanation, but she offered none. His magic streamed over her skin, itching as the deeper tissues mended. She’d had healing before—for a few minor childhood illnesses, a hefty bout of pneumonia at Convocation Academy one winter, and for a broken arm when she fell off her horse trying a difficult jump—and it never felt like much of anything to her. Magic, yes, but with no particular flavor, scent, or color. Gabriel’s magic had been so vivid to her from the first moment that she’d forgotten that other wizards’ magic wasn’t the same. She’d put it down to Gabriel’s truly remarkable level of power; now she wondered. Even with Asa working magical healing on her, it simply didn’t feel all that interesting.
“That takes care of that,” Asa said with professional neutrality. “Anything else?”
She pushed up the sleeve of her dress, showing him the bite from the hunters. That injury, too, was mostly bruises, the jaws mostly crushing her wrist so she’d drop the enchanted blade that could kill them, the hunter’s fangs only puncturing here and there.
“Looks like a dog bite.” Asa raised his brows in question, holding Nic’s arm but watching her face.
She simply nodded. With a suppressed sigh, Asa healed that, too. “I realize that Lord Phel is not of the Convocation,” he said as he worked, “but I can speak with him about the value of familiars—your high value, in particular—and our customs about allowing these sorts of incidental injuries.”
Oh, Nic could just imagine that conversation and how well it would go. They’d be lucky if Gabriel didn’t blow an artery in his brain and leak blood out of his ears. “None of my injuries are Gabriel’s fault,” she explained.
“‘Gabriel,’ is it?”
Nice slip, Nic.“He’s more upset than anyone that they occurred.”
Asa regarded her gravely. “I’ll have to take your word for it.”
“Yes, you will.”
He cracked a half smile. “As strong-willed as ever. I’m glad to see it, Nic—that being a familiar, bonding to your wizard, hasn’t changed that.”