Seville’s smile stretched from ear to ear. “Oh, my manners are the least of your worries.”
At that, Orin placed his palms on the table with a firm thud, and all eyes rounded to him. “Can’t we just eat for once? Lydia, the girls will have stall duty for a week.” When she opened her mouth to argue, he shot her a hard glare that had her lips forming a thin line. “Be glad it’s not more. Seville, stop antagonizing.”
“If you say so,” she murmured into her now full glass.
The table fell into a strained silence, only the scrapes of fork tines drifting through the air. I knew before I’d finished dinner that I couldn’t expect kindness from anyone outside of Orin. And possibly the matriarch, who’d been relegated to the same status as me. She hardly moved the entire duration of the meal, but there was something in her eyes that gave me pause. I couldn’t place it, couldn’t quite figure out what it was about her distant stare that blanketed me in unease. She might not have been involved in the family’s mealtime quarrels, but something was happening behind her thick veneer of glamour.
“Girls,” Lydia said by way of command, and her daughters stood abruptly in sync with their parents. “We’ll be in our rooms. Don’t bother us.”
Orin raised his glass in acknowledgment, and they departed without a backward glance. The thick tension snapping through the air fizzled to an uncomfortable prickle, and I set my fork down on my cleaned plate.
“Don’t pay them any mind,” Seville said, voice as syrupy as her brother’s. “They’ve been holding a grudge against us for decades. They didn’t think it was fair for Orin to become head of the estate after our father passed.”
“I see.” It was the best I could muster. The last thing I wanted was to get in the middle of their decades-old drama.
“Yes, well, I’ll do my best to uphold Grandmother’s wishes.” Orin glanced at Mavis.
I swallowed the unease clambering up my throat. “What’s wrong with her?”
“I thought you were a threadmender. Can’t you figure that out?” Seville’s upper lip curved in disdain.
“I can activate my magic and look without needlessly sacrificing threads.” I held her gaze without flinching. “But if you already know, why not just tell me?”
“Maybe you’re just lazy,” Seville drawled.
My brow twitched. “Hardly.”
“Seville.” Orin glared at his sister for a moment before sighing. His eyes fell, and he toyed with the rim of his glass. “Mavis is sick.”
“With blight?” They were immortal, and yet Orin had made it a point to seek out threadmenders to rid the world of this deadly illness. If they were truly immune like me, why bother in the first place?
An uncomfortable, pregnant pause followed my question until, finally, he nodded.
I couldn’t help my surprised snort. “Really? I always assumedyou were immune.” I glanced back at Mavis. “How long has she been sick?”
“Years.” Orin swallowed thickly. “We still don’t know how she contracted it—or how much time she has left. Months, at best.”
Pursing my lips, I tilted my head toward her. She didn’t acknowledge me at all. “Can she hear us? Speak?”
“I haven’t heard her talk in...” His gaze lifted upward as his lips remained parted, as if counting silently, before finally returning his focus to me. “It’s been too long. She hardly even moves on her own, likely to conserve what energy she has left.”
My gut tightened. “You know I don’t know how to cure this.”
“Not yet.” He braided his fingers together. “But I hope, with time, you’ll learn. You’ll have our vast resources at your disposal.”
“Do any of those resources involve adding more years to my life?” I muttered, unable to keep the sarcasm from creeping into my words. If there was a means in this world to eradicate blight, someone would’ve found it already. Unless they had a way to grant me more time on this earth, more threads to sacrifice in my efforts to learn more about this illness, then their resources meant nothing.
“Don’t forget about your brothers.” Seville’s eyes practically glowed as she stared at me. “You need a way to cure blight just as much as we do.”
Low ringing sounded in my ears. She was right, of course. And if I did find a way to cure blight, Orin could simply command me to threadmend his grandmother under the terms of my employment before I even got to my brothers. I wouldn’t have the power to say no. Even now, I could still feel the weight of his contract, as if his bargain had chained me to him and this place.
Understanding settled over me with a cold calm. This was the play all along. I’d known about finding a cure for blight, certainly, but not that I’d be mending an Ever who’d harbored the disease foryears. What would curing something that persistent even doto me? Could I survive threadmending something like thatandmy brothers? I wasn’t sure. But until I found out, I could hide in plain sight. No one knew what threadmending looked like. Only I possessed the power to see life’s threads. Onlookers would only observe an outpouring of moonlight from my body as I worked, which meant the only proof of success came from ailments being cured.
I could wear a mask and plaster on smiles, move through Fernglove and play my role without ever breaking face. I could be demure. I could be brave. I could be smart or weak or arrogant or fearful. I could be anything. I could beeverything. I would stitch whatever role I needed with sutures through my bones, and no one, not a single Ever from Fernglove or anywhere else, would be able to see the real me. I would bide my time, learn what I could, and then find a way to save my brothers.
Steeling myself with a breath, I turned my focus back to Mavis. “She shows no visible signs of blight. Glamour, I’m assuming?”
“The thickest.” Rorik chuckled, and the hackles along the back of my neck stood on end.
