After giving him one last idea to consider and stealing a kiss in the hallway, I left him and padded to the washroom.
Soon, my feet carried me toward the infirmary. It had become a route I walked so often that I no longer had to think about it. My thoughts were all bleak and full of dread, but I forced myself to school my face.
Separation was not the same as losing someone, although the forgetting felt awfully like it. Father would still be himself, but he would not remember who he was to us.
Joy was there, clearly having smoothed over her resentment, even if I knew it would take her time to process the lie he had fedus. She sat at the edge of his bed, reaching for his glass of water on a tray that hovered in front of him.
His complexion held more colour today. He sat straighter, chewing something he had been given as breakfast.
“It’s solid,” Father exclaimed when I approached, his silver-blond brows lifting high.
“Yes,” Joy answered with a faint smirk. She turned the glass slightly, and the water inside had turned into a block of ice, sliding across the table, the sleeve of her grey cotton sweater remaining perfectly dry.
“You need to teach me that,” I told her, taking my place on the other side of the bed. My burgundy long-sleeve shirt was far too thin for the cool air of this room. It was always kept at a lower temperature that reminded me of frigid mornings. The scent of herbs and medicine never changed either.
“That is not all,” she said.
The lines of her mana gleamed faintly across her skin as her hand hovered over the cube of ice. It shattered into several pieces that remained suspended in the air. With a level of concentration only Joy possessed, she arranged the fragments into the shape of a bird. An eagle.
“That is Jane’s familiar,” she said.
“How in the gods’ names did you do that?” I asked, openly gawking at the ice bird as its wings beat in the air.
A subtle curl of her mouth told me she found my shock amusing. “An exercise for control from Elaith. I thought it looked beautiful. Like a sculpture.”
It certainly looked like art. I could almost hear her humming as she practised.
I wondered whether I would ever hold that level of control. Her mastery over ice was flawless. But Joy—whether she was cooking or shaping ice into birds—always had a far better attention to detail.
Father watched the bird, but he watched her more, seemingly content just to see her at ease.
Hildegard’s words drifted back to me. There was nothing in Joy that needed fixing. She had a stronger access, like Reagan, and the way her mind worked might one day become her greatest strength in controlling it.
“And how is this Elaith tutor?” Father asked. “Do you like him?”
“He is competent and kind enough,” she replied, clearly more invested in the bird as it swooped over our heads and returned to the glass, melting into water once again.
I cursed under my breath, bending toward the cup as if I hadn’t seen it. Unbelievable.
“Language, Jan,” Father reprimanded.
I clicked my tongue. “She’s showing off.”
Joy grinned. “Where were you last night?”
Father reached for the glass while I gave her a look.
“I came to bed after you fell asleep,” I lied, offering her exactly two blinks.
We were far too old for this game, but it still worked. Years ago, we had invented this unspoken signal—two blinks. Since my subtle expressions usually slipped past her, this cue signalled a secret we didn’t want Father fretting about, like when I returned late from a tryst.
She recognised it now. Joy’s face went unreadable, one of the expressions she excelled at.
“You must have left before me this morning,” she said, voice even.
Her judgement though, was obvious. Joy never lied about being with a man, even when Father frowned at her and asked far too many questions. She didn’t understand why I avoided sharing anything of my own relationships. It just made him uncomfortable, and I had no desire to tell either of them that Ihad spent the night with Reagan in a study using a couch as a bed.
It was not that I turned prudish in Father’s presence. It was simply how we were.
