The poison daughter

Harlow arches a brow at him. “Don’t get any ideas. The man ca

It’s clear she doesn’t have much love for her father, but she does have respect. That in itself is valuable information.

“So the people blame him?” Carter asks.

Harlow shrugs a shoulder. “We’ve been more isolated in recent years. It takes more magic to maintain the boundaries. The unblessed used to have to visit the Blood Well once a month, but now we ask them to go twice a month—only those well enough and old enough to do so, of course. There are no children or elderly.”

I frown, thinking of the old man we saw the city guards dragging into the square the other day. I wonder what they consider too old to bleed—or too young, for that matter.

“How does it work? The magic? The bleeding?” I ask.

She sips her wine slowly—stalling. “Have you been away so long that you forget? Surely you remember your own well ceremony?”

“Humor me.”

Harlow sighs and pours the last of the wine into her glass. “Every new moon, all the one-month-old babies in the city are brought to the Blood Well, whether their families have magic or not. The Divine work in mysterious ways and no one knows how they choose to distribute their blessings. The children are submerged in the flowing waters at the bottom of the well, and they come out with magic or without. There is always a Carrenwell on site to record the glow of their aura color so we know which of the Divine they’ve been blessed by. If the child has magic, they’re registered for a spot in the Divine Blessed School to learn how to wield it. If they don’t have any, they continue their normal schooling and commence their bleeding days when they turn sixteen.”

“How do you keep track of how the blessings present in each child?” Bryce asks.

Harlow shrugs a shoulder. “It’s largely reported by the parents.”

“They’re so forthcoming?” I ask. “I thought magic was a well-kept secret in the city.”

She cocks her head and looks at me like I’m a moron. “Yes, but non-magical parents are usually terrified and eager to have help. They trade the secrecy for safety. And those from blessed families can either help guide their own if they have similar gifts, or they can request help from my family to place them with the appropriate tutor at school.”

Carter leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. “It’s that simple.”

“It is,” Harlow says. “The complication is the increase in bleeding days, but with the growing attacks by the Drained, our families have needed to extend much more magic.” She pauses to sip her wine. “They forget that the blood of their sacrifice is to please the Divine, not my family. Not everyone likes the changes, but it’s easy to be outraged when the danger feels far from you. We’ve never had a breach penetrate beyond the B gates. Considering the population of the Drained now, that’s impressive. The darker winter months are always a challenge, and it takes tremendous resources to keep the walls strong. If you never see the enemy at the gates, it’s easy to forget the danger.”

We fall into contemplative silence. Carter, Bryce, and I all know well enough the threat the Drained pose. We also know the struggle of protecting people and the way they resent the very rules that keep them safe.

It’s one of the reasons we’ve risked crossing the stretch of Drained Wood to get here.

“That’s why the rebellion is stirring,” Harlow continues. “The non-magical folk believe my family is taking advantage of them, and I can understand how it might look that way if you don’t see how much work it is to maintain the nightly holy fire protection wall.”

“And Rochelli is stirring them up?” I ask.

Harlow waves a hand. “Yes, I suspect he’s more of an instigator than a true leader.”

“And you think he’s the mayor? No other theories?” Bryce asks.

“I’ll admit I’m biased. Rafe’s just been chipping away at my father’s power for years now. My father thought marrying him off to my sister Aidia would be enough to rein him in.” Her face twists into a disgusted frown.

“It wasn’t?” I ask.

Harlow laughs bitterly and takes a long gulp of wine.

“But why attack during the engagement di

“Yes, but what better cover than that of a victim? And if memory serves, he wasn’t in the room when it happened.” She meets my eye. “Neither were your parents.”

“Neither was your brother Kellan.”

She rolls her eyes. “Point taken, but I noticed something curious. Only one person moved before the blast went off, and that person was you. How do I know that your family wasn’t responsible and just using the rebels as a convenient distraction?”

I’m impressed that she thought of this, but I’ve been dreading her bringing it up. If her stupid bodyguard hadn’t confirmed it after the fact, she might have let it go.

I shrug. “Wish I could have taken credit, but if I’d done it, I would have made sure I was farther from the windows. Just because I can heal quickly doesn’t mean it’s fun to take the brunt of all those glass shards.”

She purses her lips and offers only a mildly skeptical look. I’m desperate for a distraction, and Carter must read it because he leans forward.

“If you two are done bickering, I have a question about the well ceremony,” Carter says. “Could someone hide a baby’s aura?”

Harlow shakes her head. “There’s always a Carrenwell there to witness, and since we can see magic, we would also see any kind of glamour they used to hide it. That’s how I know you have a blessing from Polm.” She turns to Bryce and winks. “And you have a gift from Ke

“How do you know?” Bryce asks, looking down at his body like he’ll be able to see his own magic.

She grins, twirling her wine glass on the table. “It’s the color in your aura. Yours is red. Must admit I’m very curious to know about your magic.”

Bryce leans toward her, a lazy smile on his face. “I’d be delighted to show you.”

I don’t like the way they’re eyeing each other. She doesn’t look like she’s just doing it to fuck with me anymore—she’s actually curious. Not that I care.

My head is spi

I tap a knuckle on the table. “That hardly feels foolproof. I tricked you the night we met.”

Harlow scowls at me, the skin on her neck and cheeks darkening from pale to light gray. She’s blushing.

She clears her throat. “If I hadn’t been so distracted by my impending unwanted nuptials, I might have paid closer attention.”

“Yes, I’m sure it was that and not the fact that you were ready to let me fuck you through the bed,” I taunt.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I was a

“Again?” Bryce interrupts. “You were married before?”

Harlow feigns a pout. “Did you think I was just an old spinster?”

Bryce leans forward and winks. “Of course not. It’s just that Henry tells us nothing.”

“Yes, I was married before. To a man named Marc Beckley. He passed,” she says.

We all look at her expectantly.

“May Divine Asher deliver his soul safely beyond the veil,” she says, a beat too late.

Bryce laughs. “You seem pretty broken up over it.”

“It’s been six months. I’ve had some time to adjust,” she says. “I had faith the Divine would bring me my true love, and here he is—” She gestures to me and pretends to swoon. “How fortunate I am.”

“You’re so sincere,” I say.

She leans back and takes a long drink of wine. I watch for any sign that she’s sharing because she’s drunk, but she handles herself well. I go back through my memory. She had at least half the bottle at the last bar, plus another glass and a half at the table. She should be feeling it, but she looks unruffled.

“I think it’s fair to say that after thirty years I’m tired of being a pawn in my father’s games,” Harlow says. “I don’t want to marry you any more than you do me, and it doesn’t do either of us a kindness to pretend otherwise. It’s cleaner to call it what it is—a marriage of inconvenient necessity. It’s a job, and we will approach it with mutual professionalism.”

“Fine.” I lean back and eye her. “Your blessing is from Polm?”

Her gaze flicks from Carter and Bryce to me. “No,” she says.

I frown. A poison kiss is a very unusual gift, but it must be the work of the Divine of Malice. I stare at her, trying to puzzle out which other Divine would offer it.

“Asher?”

She shakes her head. “Not the Divine of Endings.”

Maybe I’ve been drinking too much, but now I am very confused. Until I remember how she introduced herself when we first met. Stellaria, Asher’s wife, who managed to learn to wield his magic as well as her own.

“Stellaria’s the only other option, then.”

Harlow grins wickedly. “Is it?” She glances at Bryce and Carter again. “Being a bit casual with my secrets.”

I roll my eyes. “They’re practically family.”

“Your family,” she says.

Bryce shrugs. “Listen, this game you two are playing is cute, but we should probably admit we already know about your favorite pastime.”

Harlow scowls at me. “And here I thought we were off to such a trustworthy start.”

“Are you going to tell me that your siblings don’t know what my magic is?” I ask.

She sighs. “Point taken. My magic is a gift from Harvain.”

The three of us freeze and stare at her. I would be pissed that Bryce and Carter are doing such a bad job of hiding their surprise, but I’m thrown equally off-kilter with that admission.

“Divine of Fortune,” Bryce says slowly.

I search Harlow’s face for a lie, but she’s just smirking in amusement. “Yes. I find it rather interesting myself, but they say he’s the only Divine with a sense of humor.”