Page 62 of Arcane Entanglement

It was Evander’s turn to fall quiet. His voice when he spoke was underscored by regret.

“The day my father died, I realised the foolish dreams I had always entertained about the future of this country and the fate of thralls would forever remain a fantasy unless I stepped out in society and started taking serious action.”

“Dreams?” Viggo repeated. “What kind of dreams?”

Evander met his gaze steadily.

“I want to set thralls on an equal footing with those who possess magic.”

Shock jolted Viggo. “What?” He blinked rapidly, his heart pounding erratically against his ribs. “But—how?!”

“It won’t happen overnight. The first thing is to stop the injustices perpetrated against the magicless community. The first War of Subjugation was triggered by a single terrible act of brutality, after all.” Evander furrowed his brow. “The recent tensions in the East End make me suspect someone, likely a group of nobles, is determined to repeat the mistake of the past.”

Viggo licked his lips. “So, by being an active officer in the Met, you hope to stop a similar incident?”

Evander did not take offence at his scepticism.

“Being in the Arcane Division means I can keep my finger on the pulse of the action.” He looked at the enchanted map on the wall. “And I know the areas where I need to intervene before things go too far.”

Viggo followed his gaze. Realisation dawned belatedly.

“Is that why you’re the one who mediated all those disputes between the Met and the non-magical community?” He stared at Evander, bewildered.

“The officers involved were not terribly pleased by my intervention.” Evander smiled faintly. “Being a Duke has its advantages.”

Viggo let this all sink in.

“But surely, that won’t be enough to bring about change for thralls.” He furrowed his brow, his mind spinning. “Even if you are successful at stopping another war, the providence of the magicless would remain the same.”

“That’s where people like me and Ginny come in.”

Confusion shot through Viggo all over again. “What does Lady Hartley have to do with any of this?”

Evander spoke of the work he, Ginny, and dozens of other nobles they’d brought to their side had been doing behind the scenes. Viggo grew positively dumbfounded as he enumerated the long list of philanthropic enterprises he, Ginny, and their associates had privately founded and supported over the last five years.

Employing thralls. Creating opportunities for them to rise out of the poverty their births had sentenced them to. Feeding them. Teaching them to understand the laws of the land and their rights. More importantly, providing them with education and healthcare and even a safe roof over their heads so they could thrive.

“The new hospital in Whitechapel? And the school in Spitalfields?” Viggo said hoarsely. “That was allyou?!”

“Yes. Like I mentioned before, change won’t come about overnight. It will take years for everyone to alter their way of thinking, including those without magic. We need to reform people’s attitudes from the ground up.”

Viggo swallowed heavily, still reeling from everything the mage had just revealed.

“What about the House of Lords and that petition?”

“Ah. Yes. The House of Lords.” Evander sighed heavily. “My second option beside joining the Met was to take a proactive role in politics and enact policies for the fair treatment of thralls from the very heart of government.” The mage grimaced. “Alas, that place is a nest of vipers that would have given me no end of headaches, so I decided to keep an eye out for the pro-subjugation faction from the fringes.”

Viggo recalled what Evander had said in Winterbourne’s office.

“By attending balls and functions?”

“Yes. It’s surprising how much you can learn at those parties. Ginny and I often find business partners who share our convictions there.”

“You and Lady Hartleyseem very close,” Viggo grunted.

Evander studied his pinched expression for a bewildered moment before bursting out laughing.

“Are you jealous?!” he chortled once he got his breath back.