You Are Mine (Mine #1)(78)

“Yes, Grand Chancellor.”

“Next item of business?”

Someone answers, but my heart thuds so loudly, I can't pay attention. Just like that, my friend has lost even more freedom. And there's nothing I can do about it.

Thoughts of Katherine and what this might mean to her distract me. I wouldn't want a spell permanently cast on me, tracking me where ever I go. Most hexes are bad enough, but I would hate for them to be able to find me whenever they wanted. Hiding is one of my few escapes. Changing color monthly wouldn't be as invasive, but still too much. And having to be monitored so often. I can't fathom what it would be like.

The rest of the morning goes by in a blur of activity. I understand little of what they speak of. Things that have to do with which warlock can host what party and how much a woman should be punished for disobedience. The multi-wives law is mentioned briefly, but mostly they talk of things that seem to have little importance.

At some point, servants enter with food. They bring dishes of boar and venison, duck and fish. Cakes and pastries. The savory smells mixing with the sweet in a sickening way. They lay it on the same table where the woman was sacrificed.

I'm offered nothing and accept it gratefully. I can't bear to watch the warlocks eat. The very idea is repulsive. I try to catch Annabelle's eye, but she doesn't turn my way. My arms ache under the strain of the jug. I hope it's not too much for her.

The meeting progresses throughout the meal. Though it seems more like a boasting party as they top stories of one another's spells, occasionally speaking of how it relates to a law. Empty dishes are taken away, replaced with heaping ones. The men talk and grunt and laugh. Wine flows freely. The longer it goes on, the more food and drink splotches their clothes. Those with beards fall victim to the debris more often.

From behind, I can't get a good look at Zade, but he doesn't seem to be over indulging. The few times I've had occasion to see him after a council meeting, he's never been as soiled as his fellows. As they are now, it's more like the feast after my engagement ceremony than a meeting.

Looking closer, I realize there are a few others that aren't as piggish, one being Councilman Daniel. They're not all slothful then. The Grand Chancellor also abstains from almost everything. His servant never refills his cup, and he consumes only a little food on his plate.

“That was the last item,” the Grand Chancellor says. “We'll reconvene in two weeks with reports as assigned. Dismissed.”

Finally, I'll be able to set the wine down. One downside to Zade not drinking more, the jug never lightened. But the warlocks don't seem eager to go. They slump in their chairs, cradling their glasses and picking at the last of their food. No wonder most of them are so fat. Some of them, including Father, pull out a pipe. The room fills with an acrid, bitter cloud of smoke.

The Grand Chancellor is the first to depart. Everyone else continues talking, smoking, and eating. The air is choking with the pungent odor. Zade pushes his cup aside and reads over more papers. After a while, they start to leave. One-by-one. With so many hours of food and drink, it's a wonder they can move at all.

Chancellor Ryan stands, but instead of leaving, he leans over Zade's shoulder. I strain to hear what he's saying.

“Think you got away with bringing a woman here? You haven't. You've only succeeded in making the visits you've been getting more serious.”

Zade's back stiffens, but none of the others seem to notice. Chancellor Ryan straightens and catches me looking at him. I know I should break the eye contact, but I can't. Each breath is a struggle. I want to collapse on the floor. If I heard right, it means Zade is going to die because of my constant insistence of having things my own way.





Chapter Thirty-Three





The thought of me causing Zade's death seems to freeze time for several minutes. Yet it's probably only a moment before Chancellor Ryan sneers and slams his fist into my stomach. I groan and press my hands against the pain. Zade jumps to his feet. The room goes silent.

“Sorry,” Chancellor Ryan says with a grin. “I tripped.”

Zade's frame quivers. I bite my lip hoping he won't let his temper make the situation worse. They stare at each other. Every passing moment, Zade's shaking increases, the muscles in his face growing more and more taut, and Chancellor Ryan growing more and more relaxed.

Finally, he slaps Zade on the shoulder. “Won't happen again.”

The pain is already receding from where he hit me, but the damage has been done. Chancellor Ryan strides out of the room. The remaining council members begin to chatter again, though quieter than before and with gazes drifting to Zade. After a moment, Zade slams himself back into the chair without looking at me. I never should have asked to come.

The rest of the members don't linger. As the last one, save for us and Councilman Daniel, stands to go, he smirks at Annabelle and me. “Maybe it's a good idea to have the wenches around. Both are properly subdued.”

Of course we are, who wouldn't be? Someone was killed, the tarnished are going to lose what little freedom they have, and my owner's life is under more threats. He may think it was a good idea for us to come when really, I made another mistake.

Zade doesn't look up from his papers, but Councilman Daniel grins. “We'll see you at the next meeting.”