Hm. Now the news reel is discussing some succubi scandal in Delavi.
I’m not paying attention though. This is a drive-in; the projector’s just there to entertain the stars while I stay focused on expensive and cheaply made food. Lucia likes to tell me about her dates to this place, and… I tell myself to ignore that. Not a date. We can’t have those. The Ring may not forbid it, but her happiness does.
The movie starts, finally, and my mouth’s already coated in pizza grease as half the snacks are gone. The seltzer helps to clear my mouth, from the greaseandthe heat from the pepper flakes, though the only hint of a taste I get off it is ‘bad.’
Every time a scare catches my throat, I feel a shame bubble inside me thatthis fucking movieis actually getting me. Thescary factorymovie! Ugh. I’m glad it’s not Lucia next to me to judge, just Vincenza.
She doesn’t think to insult me, just pull me closer and closer until she has an arm around my chest and I’m leaning on hers, seeking for any source of heat. I blink once… blink twice… and…
I blink my eyes open, feeling my back land onto a soft bed and Vincenza’s arms leaving me.
“Do you want the light off?” She hovers her hand over the light switch.
“Huh?” I roll my head into a pillow. “...Yes?”
“Goodnight, Catarina.” She clicks it off and leaves.
“Good—goodnight, Vincenza.”
Chapter 23
Waiting for String Lights
“Hi, Mom.”
“Catie! You can schedule your calls in advance. Send a letter? You always catch me while I’m straining.”
“Should I go?”
The phone hisses, “no! Absolutely not! Catarina de Alioni, you are speaking with your mother now.”
“Okay. Uh… so dad was coming over a couple days after the Lights Festival?”
“Yes. He will expect you to put on some magic for us. Don’t disappoint him!”
“I know. I know.” I grip the cable. “I’m actually hosting a bar later that night for the parlour, withmyundead servants pouring drinks.“ It doesn’t need to be stated that I don’t knowhowto make those servants yet. “I talked it over with Mistress Vincenza, and she said that you could come if you want, since I might have to skip dinner to help prepare.”
“Skip dinner?“ she sneers. “...But, your father would love that. So would I. But don’t think that you’re not getting at least one real meal with us!”
“I know. Uh, that was it. Bye?”
“Alright, Catie. Goodbye.”
I hang up the phone, absurdly proud with myself for having such a short conversation.
Unrelatedly, the schedule on my wall says I should eat now. Vincenza even drew a smiley face next to that point. For such a tall—authoritative—woman, it’s so sweet. With the same arms that can pick me up like nothing, she produced something so cute.
It burns my heart that I want her. Every day. Everything’s so easy with her. I’m not fearful of her touch; I’m not worried that I’m replaceable. I just wish I could be flustered over her without—without…
In a better world, Vincenza wouldn’t have needed me. She would’ve had the woman she loved, not even knowing that there could be this equally real, far worse one.
That does draw me down. I may not be replaceable, but that doesn’t mean I could ever begin to hope to be the one her heart belongs to.
Vincenza’s washing her hands when I walk in. “Are you making dinner?”
“Yes,” I draw out with a teasing annoyance. “Do you have flour? I was going to make plancakes.”
“Plancakes?”
