Page 38 of A Spell of Heart & Havoc

What? I could count on one hand the number of times Mother had asked how I felt. And I was pretty sure they were all when I was ill.

I looked to my father, croissant frozen halfway to my mouth. He looked a bit uncomfortable.

“Yes, well, there was that unfortunate display of yours, at dinner the other night. And we’ve hardly seen you since then. Petra says you’ve been busy painting and with the, ah, the accounts.”

“But we’re worried about you, dear,” Mother chimed in. “You don’t seem like yourself lately.”

“And you didn’t use your, ah, your gift yesterday. Didn’t bring it to either of us, or drop it off in my study,” Father said.

And there it was.

For a minute, I’d been quite touched that they’d cared. That they’d noticed a change in my behavior and had addressed it head-on by talking to me. Rather than irritably scolding me into submission, or, more commonly as I grew into adulthood and that didn’t work, just tiptoeing around the manor for weeks until “Dovey’s mood” had passed.

But this was it. The real reason they’d sat me down at this meal. I hadn’t created the daily jewel that they’d come to rely on. And with their venture into Talon, trying to wiggle back into their old social circles, they wanted it. Probably needed it. Their former friends wouldn’t make things easy for them, and they had to flash as much wealth as possible to make an impression—to make it clear that the Wistrallos were back and stronger even than before.

I chewed my croissant, savoring the delicate sweetness of the goldenberries. I took a slow sip of tea. And I looked back and forth at both of them. Mother and Father. Disappointing, predictable, and still two of the most important people in my life. Despite all their flaws, I somehow always found myself here, wanting things to change but always caving to their demands.

I can’t live like this anymore.

“I think you should stay in the city for longer. Past the revel,” I found myself saying. “We have some extra in the budget this month. Take it. Find a short-term rental—not a fancy inn. Or stay with the Tongs. Or another family. I don’t care.”

They seemed shocked into silence—a rarity. I stood, feeling oddly calm. “This will be good for us. You’ll get to spend more time in Talon and take advantage of this moment. It’s what you’ve wanted for so long. And if you spend the money wisely it should last you at least a few weeks.”

Mother’s perfect eyebrows had practically disappeared into her hairline. Father slowly lowered his teacup and looked to her for an indication of what they should do. Her mouth was set in a prim, tight line.

She stared at me, hard, but only said, “Well, that’s a lovely idea. Isn’t it, dear? Our Dovey is so thoughtful.”

“Very thoughtful. I think it’s just a marvelous plan!”

I nodded, forcing my legs to walk me to the door. “I’ll collect everything and send it down with Petra soon. Thank you for a nice breakfast. I really should get going now.”

I was nearly out, the curved metal handle cold in my grip.

“Oh, and darling?” she called to me, voice snaking out, “Please don’t come to the table so unkempt again. You know how I hate such frumpiness at a meal.”

The door clicked shut behind me.

18

MAERRYL

Dove walked away from the dining room and stood for a long moment in the wide, art-filled foyer, eyes closed. I stayed put, leaning against the wall. Fighting the ridiculous urge to go to her.

“How much of that did you hear?” she said quietly.

I snorted. “Enough. It’s not exactly a soundproof door.” And it helped that I’d had my ear pressed to the crack until a moment ago. Under my breath, I said, “Your parents are kind of dicks. You know that, don’t you?”

Her eyes flashed open, cutting to me. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I suppose they are.”

Without another word, she headed down the hall and toward the staircase. Not holding the door open for me, she stomped away. I heard her footsteps tapping on the stone, up and up.

Reaching her easily, taking the steps two by two, I touched her shoulder. She stopped. I moved in closer, obeying the traitorous desire that pulsed through me.

“Are you alright?” I said, my voice low.

Dove let out a shaky laugh. “I don’t know. I don’t know. What’s wrong with me?”

She turned on the stair, throwing her arms up. “Can’t even face my parents’ criticism, can’t be honest with them—” She choked off, hiding her face in her hands.