“What’s your point?” Saga asked.
“This islibel,” growled Avery.
“It didn’t name me specifically.” Saga heaped more sugar into her tea.
“Any idiot could make an inference,” Avery growled.
Saga shrugged with a helpless pained smile. “And yet, there it is in theSunday Times.”
“I’m rather surprised it still exists, to be honest…and in such great girth.” Avery glanced back at the article. “This says they were sweethearts as children—is that also a lie?”
Saga shook her head. “They broke up in college before we met.”
“Continuing a love affair that’s been on a break for nearly a decade? I don’t find that too promising. You grow with a person, you cannot rekindle teenage passion and expect a lifetime companionship to come from it.” Avery tossed the newspaper aside. “I couldn’t help but notice that their great love story neglected to mention the reason for their parting.”
“Hugh didn’t talk about the breakup much, to be honest. From what Iwas able to gather, Lana struggled initially with some internal biases when he made his transition.” Saga noted the confusion in Avery’s face, and she clarified. “Hugh was born Hannah. The two of them met in secondary school, fell in love, and…” She paused, wanting to find anger, but instead, unexpectedly, found compassion for Lana. “I think Lana had formed a picture of herself—of who they were as a couple. As much as I’m sure she hated to admit it, Hugh finding himself changed that. Not everyone adapts to change easily.”
“She couldn’t accept him for who he was?”
“No, no, she accepted him and supported him embracing his identity. It’s more that she couldn’t accept herself being with a man, and what that meant forheridentity and how she saw herself.”
Avery quirked an eyebrow again.
“I know it probably sounds dumb to someone from your world, but I suppose humans are different? We’re not always able to see the big picture immediately and we’re usually the thing standing in our own way.”
“And she miraculously got out of her own way by the wedding?”
Saga felt her heart sink a little. “With help, I suppose. They started reconnecting after our announcement—which was infinitely smaller than that monstrosity, I might add. She wanted to congratulate us and catch up with him.” She chewed her lower lip, thinking back on it. “To be honest, I was happy for them. They’d been so close, and it really warmed my heart to see them rekindle that friendship.” She dropped her face into her hands and growled. “I was such an idiot.”
“Don’t tell me you blame yourself for what he did.”
“No,” came the muffled reply. “Just for not seeing it sooner.”
Avery shifted in her seat. “Saga, you trusted your partner, there’s no shame in that. As I understand it, that’s how it’s supposed to be.”
Saga looked up from her hands, feeling her eyes sting again. “He made me look like a complete fool in front of all of our friends and family. My mother reminds me of that embarrassment any chance she gets.”
Avery met her gaze, her eyes unreadable. That stare lingered, but it didnot feel judgmental. After a moment or so, Saga got the sense that Avery was appraising her.
“What?” Saga asked, feeling self-conscious.
Only with prompting did Avery speak, but she did so thoughtfully as if still trying to determine how to get her point across. “A man had the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to call someone like you his partner. To make a contract with both gods and government that would grant him the privilege to be at your side until death or beyond, depending on your vows…and rather than race to it, he fledfromit.” She ran her tongue along the edge of her teeth, and shook her head with a disbelieving laugh. “If there is any shame to be found in this matter, it isn’tyours,Saga. The man is an addlepated lobcock.”
Saga blinked, not sure if she was struck more by the compliment or the unfamiliar insult.
“Though should we ever meet, I suppose I owe him a debt of gratitude.” Avery poured them both another cup of tea.
“H-how so?”
“Were it not for his historical blunder, you might still be in Oxford,” Avery concluded. “And we never would have met.”
Now there was an unexpected silver lining. “I suppose not.”
Bolstered, Avery continued. “And while it has been brief, I have come to…anticipatethe collaborations of our admittedly unlikely partnership with great fondness.”
For the first time that morning, Saga smiled. “Really?”
“I don’t of course mean to presume the nature of our relationship is in any way…” There was a kind of endearing anxiety in the way Avery chose her words. “But while I have had assistance in the past, it’s never quite been like this. We complement each other well, I think.”
