Leigh stood to face him. “The slow cooker is still warming the beef stew for you. It will warm your bones.”
Reza sighed, a comforted and content sound, wrapping the woman in his arms once more. “Divine creature.” He thanked her with a kiss. “River asleep?”
“Mm.”
There was a pause between the couple at that confirmation, a realization of the rare opportunity before them: time to be just a couple, rather than mired in parental priorities.
Entwined in one another, they moved toward the kitchen, but Reza paused at the door, addressing Saga. “You’re old enough to make your own decisions, but I’d be careful around Avery. She means well, I don’t doubt that, but her methods can be reckless, and she was sentenced to five hundred years of restless sleep for a reason.”
“Why did you agree to house her, then?”
The couple exchanged a look. “I thought it might help if someone like us took on the responsibility,” Reza answered. “You don’t know this yet, Saga, but people like Leigh and your grandmother—like Avery, even—have been fighting for centuries to be seen as citizens in the eyes of the council.”
“Perhaps our cooperation might be the first step toward humans and changelings gaining acceptance in the community,” said Leigh. “Who knows, one day there may not be a reason to hide at all.”
“She told me she committed treason,” said Saga.
Leigh glanced nervously between her husband and her niece once more. “She told you?”
“Averyhas been incredibly transparent with me from the beginning.” It was a simple statement, but even without intending to pass guilt, Saga knew the implication was that others had obviously not been so forthcoming.
Perhaps that was why the look the couple shared in that moment seemed trepidatious, and when Leigh spoke, there was a weight to her tone. “Then I suppose you also know why she did it, and why we felt we would not be in danger from her if we opened our doors.”
Saga didn’t know either of these things, but she wasn’t about to admit it to Leigh.
“I will do my best to answer questions you have moving forward, and once everything settles with your grandmother’s funeral, if youreallywant to go down that path, I will teach you what I know about magic.”
Saga’s hands paused in their work, and she nearly dropped the knitting back into her lap. “Really?”
“Ifthat is what you want, andifyou have given the matter serious thought,” came Leigh’s conditions. “Rest assured, there will be a hefty conversation about consequences before any lesson occurs. It is not something you can simply give up if the whim strikes you.”
Saga felt a tightness in her chest. Did her family really see her as so flighty? “I understand.”
Leigh wasn’t quite done. “Furthermore, this information will not go elsewhere, and you will take extra special care that our new friend doesn’t mistake any other Mundane for fey.”
Saga crossed her heart. “I promise.”
Leigh gave a decisive nod and gestured for Reza to move into the kitchen ahead of her. “That scarf is coming along lovely, by the way.”
36Yet many, including the English, will attest that 90 percent of British cooking rather depends on messing up the use of salt and pepper.
37Gruglede (Groo-lee-ah-duh, Norse): A happy dread. A feeling of happy excitement tinged with anxiety.
38Mishti (Bengali): “Sweet,” also a term of endearment.
Chapter 13
