“What can it hurt to ask? Ask when the two of you are alone and find out what she thinks. If she’s willing, we could invite the candidates here to House Phel, to court you.”
“Nic…” Quinn trailed off, flabbergasted, yet with a glimmer of impossible hope in her eyes. “Would Lord Phel allow that?”
“Yes,” Nic replied firmly. “He’s not the usual sort of Convocation wizard. He would absolutely be in favor of this.”
Quinn gripped Nic’s arm. “Do you really think so? I mean, let me talk to Sage.”
“You do that,” Nic replied warmly. “And if necessary, I’ll ask Gabriel to discuss with her.”
“No, I’ll talk to her. We’re close. And she’s a good sister.”
Nic couldn’t help laughing. “So I hear.”
Just then, a servant signaled of Gabriel’s approach, so Nic rang a bell to ask everyone to take their seats. They rose again as Gabriel entered the hall. He visibly flinched at the sight of the more than two dozen people seated at the long table, but to his credit, he soldiered on, drawing his brooding and forbidding persona around him like a cloak, wizard-black eyes fastened on Nic as he strode to his place at the head of the table. He looked so commanding, shimmering with silvery-cool magic, that she shivered—and she let the gathering see her visceral response to her wizard. All of them had fallen silent when Gabriel entered the room, rising to their feet in deference.
Gabriel reached her position at his left, lifted her hand and kissed it, lips twisting wryly. “Lady Phel.”
“Lord Phel,” she replied in an equally grave greeting. Tipping her head slightly to their audience, wizard-black and jewel-bright familiar eyes alike studying him with interest, she mentally urged him to welcome them and allow them to be seated.
Turning to the gathering but keeping her hand, he took his time evaluating them, making a show of examining the wizards and familiars he’d not yet met, nodding here and there to the ones he had. “Welcome to House Phel,” he told them, his voice like rocks, making it sound like a command rather than a greeting, which worked just fine. “Be seated.”
He sat, too, taking the glass of wine she poured him as muted conversation resumed. Servers streamed out of the kitchen, carrying trays with plated dinners. As Nic had instructed, one set a plate before Gabriel first, then her, before working their way down the table. She examined her own plate critically. Not quite as she’d envisioned, but remarkably close given the short prep time. They’d get better.
“So,” Gabriel muttered under his breath, “we have a full kitchen and serving staff now?”
“The word ‘full’ would be a bit of an overreach, but we’re getting there. Enough to plate and serve food for the family dining hall, anyway.”
“Set out a buffet and let them serve themselves.”
“Ah, but then they’d eat more, going back for seconds, and even thirds. This way, they get what they get, they leave once dessert has been served and consumed, and we control the costs.”
He considered her a moment, then held up his glass in a toast. “You are a remarkable woman, Lady Phel.”
“Remember that,” she smirked, even as Asa, to her left, lifted his own glass, echoing the toast, which rippled down the table. “They won’t start eating until you do,” she said under cover of the cheers.
“Figures,” he grumbled, his knowing look reminding her of their first meal together, when he’d begun to outwit her with his game of matching her bite for bite. But he set into eating with gusto, raising his brows at her in surprise.
“Daisy’s menu and recipes,” she confirmed. “I figured that if I had to torture you with a formal dinner, I could at least arrange for you to have Momma’s cooking. And she was happy to have a job.”
Under the table, he set a hand on her thigh and squeezed it. “Did they teach that in Care and Feeding of Wizards 101?” he asked, eyes dancing with the intimate joke.
“Did they really have that class at Convocation Academy?” Asa asked in surprise, clearly listening in. He nudged Laryn on his other side. “You should’ve taken that course,” he teased.
Nic schooled her expression but internally winced at Asa’s poor joke—and at Laryn’s barely suppressed glower.
Wolfgang, across from Laryn, ran a hand over his familiar’s hair. “I can vouch that Costa must have gotten high marks in that class. He takes excellent care of me.”
Costa blushed and squirmed in his chair, his gaze going to Wolfgang worshipfully. “I try,” Costa murmured, leaning into Wolfgang’s caress.
Gabriel gazed on the display with some distaste for Costa’s submissive behavior, but thankfully didn’t comment. Instead he cocked his head at the empty chair on his right. “Are we missing someone?” he asked Nic.
“Seliah sent her regrets,” Nic replied for the benefit of everyone listening in. “Your sister had other obligations this evening but hopes to make it in the future.”
“Does she?” Gabriel asked, his befuddlement clear.
“Yes,” Nic replied firmly. “I expect she’ll be able to join us for family dinners very soon.”
Whatever Nic was up to, Gabriel figured she knew what she was doing. So, he nodded and grunted, also glad his persona made that kind of response perfectly fine.