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“He’s received praise because he’s working hard at his studies,” she snapped, feeling her icy facade give way a little at the nasty comment about Archer. “Studies he cares about and wants to continue. Maybe you’d know that if you treated him like a person, instead of some prop for you to manipulate for your own gain…”
“And what would you know about it, exactly?” Morgan looked up at that unfamiliar voice… a dreamy, feminine voice that was hardly loud enough to be heard over the background hum of the party in the hall behind them. A short, slender woman in a gown the muted color of an overcast sky was standing a few feet behind Grant… how long had she been there? “You seem very sweet, dear, but you’re just one of his little dalliances.” Her light tone only made the cruelty in her words more cutting. “I’d be careful if I were you. Everyone can tell what you’re doing when you throw yourself at the richest boy on campus. And our son is destined for greater things than some hussy from a backwater insula that’s on the verge of being swallowed whole by the Fog. I mean no offense, of course,” she added, a soft smile curling her lips upward. “But it’s good to speak honestly about the important things in life, don’t you think?”
Morgan stared at both of them for a long time, letting herself absorb what they’d both said. The woman’s smug little smile was slowly fading as the time stretched on. Finally, Archer’s father seemed to grow impatient, folding his arms across his chest. “Now, then. Back inside before you embarrass yourself further, young lady. Who knows, there might be a match in there who’s more your level. Go and find him.”
“No, I think I’ll be going to see Archer, actually.” She could feel the anger building in her like a great wave, desperate to break loose. “You can come with me if you like, it makes no difference to me—but let me be clear. I don’t care how much money you’ve got, or how many nasty things you can dream up to say to me. Archer’s my soulmate, and I’m going to make sure he’s okay.”
She’d been expecting anger. What she hadn’t expected was the high-tittering laugh that Archer’s mother uttered, lifting one slender hand to cover her mouth. “Soulmate! How quaint!”
“You poor thing,” Grant said, shaking his head indulgently. “You really still believe in all of that rubbish where you’re from?”
Morgan looked back and forth between the two of them, a horrible realization beginning to dawn on her. “You’re partners,” she said slowly, not wanting to believe it. “You have a child together. You’re saying you aren’t soulmates?”
“Of course not,” Grant said impatiently. “Absurd notion, that you have to love one another to build a family, or a company, or a legacy. We hardly even like each other, and look what we’ve created.”
“So naive,” Archer’s mother murmured, shaking her head. “It’s a shame, Grant. I only hope this place hasn’t managed to fill Archer’s head with all of that foolishness.”
“No, no. He knows better than that.” Grant’s eyes were hard as he studied Morgan. She stared back, barely listening to what the man was saying as her mind raced. Everything Archer had ever said about his parents had been starkly recontextualized by this revelation. His father’s inflexibility, his unkindness, the impossible standards he set and the constant demands he made… she hardly dared look at his aura, knowing how much unhappiness she’d see there. As for his mother… Grant she felt pity for, but that woman was downright frightening.
“Nevertheless, this has been very valuable,” Grant said, clearly taking her silence as an indication she’d been beaten. “Thank you for the confirmation that pulling him out of this place was the right thing to do. Now get out of my way before I have you removed by force.”
Morgan tensed, then darted out of the door before he could stop her, determined to outrun the old man in a foot race if that was what it took to get to Archer. But she froze a few steps into the courtyard outside the Great Hall, shocked to see a familiar silhouette standing on the bricks. The moonlight was bright enough to make out the expression on his face, and she knew immediately that he’d heard most of the conversation. That meant he’d heard her declaration that he was her soulmate. Morgan felt her heart skip a beat as she fought for the courage to meet his gaze.
But Archer wasn’t looking at her. He was looking straight at his father… and she felt her breath catch in her throat as he began to walk slowly but surely across the courtyard to face him. He looked a mess—his suit was torn in half a dozen places, and she could see leaves caught in his hair from the jungle. But around him, his aura was blazing like a bonfire, brighter and more intense than anything she’d ever seen.
Chapter 26 - Archer
Archer had never felt this kind of calm in his life. He’d been midway through the jungle when the strange fugue state that had struck him on his way out of the hall had lifted, and he’d stood for a long time among the trees, hearing nothing but the distant roar of the ocean and the stirring of the breeze in the trees around him. Out there, finally free of the noise and the pressure he’d spent his whole life trying and failing to run from, he’d heard something undeniable deep inside of him. A tiny voice, telling him purely and simply to go back.
And so he had. That clarity had stayed with him, the knowledge that it had always been an option to simply turn and walk away. And as the trees began to thin and he heard the distant sounds of the party in the distance, he knew that although he might have only been gone for a short time, he may as well have been returning as a different man. It was time he finally had an honest conversation with his parents. It was time—it was past time—that he speak to them as people, not as the frightening figures who’d dominated his life since before he could even remember.
But on the edge of the tree line, raised voices had stopped him in his tracks. Hardly daring to believe his ears, he stood there listening to the woman he loved speak in his defense with more passion in her voice than he could ever remember summoning on his own behalf. Soulmate, he heard her say, and the word rang through him like a bell. It rang like the truth. His whole life, his parents had told him again and again that all of that was a silly little fairytale that people told to make themselves feel better about the poor choices of partner they’d made. And that had been easy enough to believe. It had even made him feel better about himself, for a while… it certainly helped brush away the pang of jealousy he felt whenever he saw a couple in love.
But then he’d met Morgan. And how could he refuse to believe in soulmates when she made him feel the way she did? No wonder he’d been such a mess for the whole first term, he thought faintly, pieces clicking into place one after the other. Holding two utterly incompatible ideas in his mind at the same time had been threatening to tear him into pieces. He’d lashed out at her, tried to push her away, some twisted instinct assuring him that if he could just get away from her, all the discomfort of these conflicted ideals would fade away. But it was the wrong answer.
He heard the way his mother spoke to Morgan, heard the casual cruelty dripping from her voice… but it was his father’s threat that stirred him into motion. Morgan was more than strong enough to weather his mother’s barbs, nasty as they were. He could tell from the shock and pity in her voice that she was more concerned with their emotional well-being than she was with his mother’s insults. But he wouldn’t stand by and let his father threaten to call his guards on her.
He strode across the courtyard, feeling more certain of his path than he ever had in his life, though he had absolutely no idea where this conversation was going to lead him. His father was waiting, eyes narrowed, a vein pulsing in his temple that tended to go off when he was reaching his limit of frustration. Oh no, Archer thought faintly, fighting a strange urge to laugh. What could he do? Shout at him? He had no power over him anymore. Money or not, Grant was a man, not a monolith. And Archer had had enough of building his whole life around what he wanted.
“First of all,” he said, cutting in before his father could speak, “you’ll apologize to Morgan for threatening to have her physically restrained. A pathetic little display of power on your part, Father. Embarrassing to witness.” His father stared at him, wide-eyed. It had been a long time since he’d seen the old man speechless. He gave it a few seconds, then sighed, shaking his head. “No, I didn’t think you’d have the courage for that. Pity.”
“Enough,” Grant growled now, his voice ragged. “Enough of these foolish theatrics. You’ll be lucky if I evenconsiderleaving my offer on the table after this rampant display of—”
“No, Father, I know how you hate to rely on luck. Let’s take luck out of the equation.” He smiled broadly, shocked by how easily the gesture came to him. “I categorically reject your offer of employment, and any subsequent offers of employment you care to make. Unfortunately, I can’t work for a man whose ethics and values don’t align with mine.”
“Ethics and…!” His face was beginning to darken as he flushed more and more with the rage he was holding down. “May I remind you who raised you? Who taught you everything you know?”
“I remember,” he said coldly. “Oh, I remember all too well what you taught me. Absolutely everything that has ever gotten in the way of my happiness, I learned from you. I’ll be spending the rest of my lifeun-learning it, in fact.”
“Ungrateful boy,” his mother said softly, her voice sliding effortlessly into the conversation. He knew better than to imagine he’d get any kind of rage out of her. If she’d ever had the capacity to feel anything, she’d given it away long ago.
“That’s right,” he said softly. “Ungrateful is the perfect word for it. I’ve finished crawling on my belly with gratitude for the scraps you two have seen fit to throw my way.”
“We’ve given youeverything,” his father snarled. “Supported your lavish lifestyle for decades, paid for you to traipse across every insula making an absolute fool of yourself. Who paid for all your clothes? Who paid your tuition? You be careful, boy. You be very careful before I start rethinking how much support we’ve been giving you…”
“Neither of you haveeversupported me,” he said, hearing his voice shake a little with the force of his anger. “Not where it counts. You’ve never cared who I was, what I thought, what I wanted… no, you simply compared me to some imaginary ideal son you’d invented, then clicked your tongue whenever I fell short. That’s not love,” he said, feeling his heart ache as he said it but knowing it was the truth. “All you ever did was throw money at me.”
His mother scoffed at that, an unusual sound to hear from her. She so rarely gave any outward show of emotion. “If our support means so little, I’d imagine you’d want it withdrawn.”
