Page 73 of My Faire Lady

“Then I think I’m fate’s favorite.”

I watch, as she eats half the cupcake in a single bite and licks the frosting from her fingers.

“No.” I shake my head. “I am.”

She looks up at me through lowered lashes, each casting a curled shadow over her face. “You want a long story?”

“Not just any long story. I want one no one else has heard.”

Her eyes widen, only slightly, and she scoots closer, pulling a knitted blanket over us both. Her knee brushes mine, and instead of pulling away like I have the last few days, I let it stay there, bathing in her warmth.

She twists the edge of the blanket between her fingers. “My whole life, I’ve only ever felt valuable if I was helpful. Like if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have a purpose, then I’d lose everyone. I was the easy child to raise, the one that never lied or got into trouble, always had good grades. But none of it was for me. It was this pressure I put on myself to make my grandmother and Kelsey’s life easier. I watered myself down, for them.”

Her voice thickens, and I slide my hand over hers, tangling our fingers together. She squeezes, leaving them like that in her lap.

“But when my grandmother got sick, nothing I did could make her better. I was useless. It didn’t matter how good of a granddaughter or caretaker I was, because I still lost her in the end. When I lost her, I hit rock bottom. What was the point of doing anything, reaching out of my comfort zone, if nothing came from it?” She lifts her head, and her eyes meet mine. “But then I came here, and I entered the contest, and making the pieces for my entry is the first time I’ve ever done something I’m proud of. I’ve created these pieces of art from scratch, and even if I don’t win, isn’t that an accomplishment? Pride in myself?”

“You’re going to win,” I whisper, as fireflies flicker in the grasses below.

“What if I don’t?” She clings to my hand and turns until she’s facing me. “I’ve been thinking maybe if I don’t win, I can stay here. I can help you restore the magic, or at least keep it stable, and run the shoppe.”

My mind races, turning over her words, and I study her eyes, the moonlight catching on the golden flecks embedded in her irises. Those eyes could see countries I’ve dreamed of, visit wonders that I’ll never set foot near.

But what if I got to wake up to those eyes every morning? What if they were the last thing I saw every night? What if I could watch wrinkles form around the corners?

What if.

“We’ll discuss it after the contest results are announced,” I settle on, and the moment the words escape, my magic retreats deeper into my body.

She nods and gnaws on her bottom lip, swallowing as if she’s fighting back tears. Like she wanted me to beg her to stay. An ache grows in my chest, and I would beg. I’d do anything, but I can’t cage her.

“Well, there’s your story,” she says, untangling our hands.

She leans back on her elbows and studies the sky, a slight furrow forming between her brows. I want to rub it away, but it would be too familiar, too much like a promise.

“Scarlet!”

I stiffen at Boden’s voice—the frantic tone.

“It’s Boden,” I say, pushing to my feet. “I think something is wrong.”

“What is it?” I send back through our connection, my feet already carrying me through the treehouse toward the ladder.

Lottie throws off her blanket and follows.

“The scroll. It’s glowing.”

26

“Where is it?” Scarlet says, pushing through the library door.

I follow close behind, keeping to the outskirts of the room as Boden and Frankie look up from the table. The scroll I’ve only seen copies of sits in the middle, bound by a leather string.

“We can’t pull the tie,” Frankie says. “Whenever we get too close, there’s a stabbing pain in the center of our palms. Some sort of spell work.”

Scarlet leans over the scroll and reaches a hand toward the paper. I step forward, ready to stop her, but a muscle works in Boden’s jaw, and a second later his voice wafts into my head.

“She’ll be okay, Lottie.”