“Adequate. Thank you.” Holly briefly inspects my work before scribbling into the columns she’d been poring over for the last ten minutes.
“Anything else?” None of this is in my wheelhouse, but I managed to sort everything out. I can try to dive a little further into the greatly confusing world of Eclipsica treaties and finance if she’d like me to. As expected, Holly waves me away with a flick ofher wrist.
“Run along. I’m sure my brother will be finished soon—”
A note on the piano rings quietly through the library, followed by a few more notes to a song muffled by the heavy wooden door.
As if possessed, Holly rises to her feet, wandering out into the hallway. Queen Plume stands in the doorway to the parlor, her jaw slack and eyes focused on the source ofthe sound.
Moth.
He does play beautifully. His long fingers stroke the keys while he hums, quietly focused and unaware of the growing audience that has been drawn to him.
It’s a song I don’t recognize, but by the way Queen Plume’s eyes water, she does. Holly moves into the room, humming the tune quietly at first. When she starts to sing, I can’t pick my jaw up off the floor. Her gentle voice is bright and youthful; it’s a surprise that it’s coming from Moth’s thorny younger sister.
Moth’s mouth hitches into a smile, but he doesn’t join in, not right away at least. His eyes roll to the side as if searching the lost part of his memory forthe words.
When they reach the second verse, the rich tone of his voice knocks me back; the low humming tone sends shivers through my body. Is there nothing that this mancan’t do?
Queen Plume joins in next. Her voice is not as polished. She sounds very much like a mom singing a lullaby in a sing-song tone, but it’s as comforting as blanket tucking you into sleep.
Still seemingly in a trance, she and Holly make their way to the piano bench.
Their voices blend like a choir until the song is done. Their laughter afterward is somehow even more beautiful. The feeling that I’m intruding on a family moment strikes me, and I begin to retreat to the large arched doorway.
Queen Plume looks up, extending her arms toward me. “Heather,” she says. “There is roomfor you.”
Holly says nothing but doesn’t protest. I’m still not sure she likes me very much, but when Moth joins his mother in beckoning me forward, I don’thesitate.
“I am so happy you’re home, my darling,” Queen Plume says softly. “And you have brought such a wonderful bride.”
Hiswhat now?
“Your bride?!” The words fly out of my mouth the minute Moth and I are alone. “Your bride?” I giggle, unsure which emotion to latch onto. Honestly, I don’t know why I’m freaking out. Moth’s mother calling me his bride causes a tingle to move all the way from my head tomy toes.
But for it to just be assumed like this? I don’t know—I don’t know!
“Is that not where this is headed?”
“You haven’t asked me! How can I be your bride when you haven’t even asked?”
“Will you—”
“No, not like this.” I shake my head. “People dream about their proposal. You can’t just ask me becauseyour mom—”
“That isnotwhy.”
“Is that what this ball at the end of the week is?! Am I planning our wedding, Moth?”
“Of course not.”
“But she called me your‘bride’!”
“Do you not wish to be?”
“Yes—no—yes. Moth, don’t ask me like this.” I flush pink. He—I—what is even happening? I giggle again and fully hate myself for being both unspeakably angry and happy at the same time. What is with me?
Moth’s deep laugh fills the room and fuels the negative side of myemotions.
