“That sounds perfect.”It doesn’tbut I have to remember my mission and I need to keep Cillian at a distance. Isolde was right, we are both getting too involved. I aim for an airy, flirty voice, even though the words feel wrong coming out, reminding me of Aiden calling me out on the fake persona.
Caspien doesn’t seem to mind. “Dinner tonight?”
Nodding, I fight the sense of unease filling my chest, and remind myself this fits with Ophe’s and my plan. If the witch believes I can trust Caspien, then maybe he has some insight into the prophecy.
I quicklyhand off Cyndr to Cillian before I can change my mind.
Chapter
Twenty-One
NISSA
Isolde makes me stay late, reviewing information she says I should already have committed to memory. I know the answer to most of her questions, but she still looks disappointed in me when she calls it a day. It seems to be a constant emotion for her when I’m around.
On the way to my room, a servant approaches with a message from Caspien, requesting that the dinner be pushed to tomorrow. Without much time left before our birthdate, I decide to put the unexpectedly free evening to use. After telling Ophe about my mother’s ominous warning after Nova died, we both agreed that she could know something. Visiting her is also a good excuse to get me out of the castle. Away from Cillian.
I make my way to her house, leaving two Guardians with persistent scowls outside the front door once I arrive. I find her sitting at the wooden table alone, picking at her dinner. Candle light dancing across her face accentuating her sharp features. The scene pulls at my heart as I make my way into the dim room.
“Nissa, the staff is making you a plate. You should have sent a wisp yourself to let me know you were dropping in.” She doesn’t even look up from her food.
“So, how did you know I was coming?” I look around the lifeless house, only muted sounds coming from the kitchens.
“You put in a request to visit, I believe. That Guardian, Niko, wisped me to confirm no one else was at the house. ‘Securing the location’. ‘Extra precautions’ and all that.” She swirls a hand in the air.
I take a lap around the dining room, looking for any signs of my childhood and the happiness that once existed here. I don’t find any.
My mother looks drained of life, her facade of normalcy gone. She seems to have even lost the frustration she harbors for me. A shot of guilt shoots through my chest. The distance she put between us after my father left always hurt, but I don’t like to see her so dejected, so alone. Her whole life was Nova. Who does she have left?
“How have your lessons been going?” she asks, over the rim of her goblet. I almost laugh at how often I get asked this question. Either the Fae are very concerned about my ability to be queen or they don’t know what else to say to me.
I make a noncommittal noise in response and pop a shoulder. I’m not sure how to bring up what the old witch said in Varethriel, but I don’t want to talk about the exhausting lessons either. Lessons that she always felt like I shouldn’t be included in as a youngling.
I lean my hip against the table, facing her. The blue of her eyes —the blue that matched Nova’s —weigh down on me, reminding me of my purpose here. The silence stretches between us, and she continues to eat her meal. Only the faint singing of a wind chime fills the space between us.
Silence is nothing new for us, but the longer it goes on, the more tired she looks and the more frustrated I grow.
I’m about to ask her about the prophecy when the door swings open and a young male human brings in a plate, thenscuttles out. The vines on the legs of the chair scrapes against the floor as I sit down.
“Did you ever find the necklace?” she asks. Her face is impassive, but she shifts in her seat.
It takes me a moment to remember the lie I told her when I was searching through Nova’s room weeks ago. The lie I told right before my mother warned me to be careful about digging into the past.
I cock my head and study her face.Maybe she does want to talk about it.“Have you ever heard the term ‘mirrored princess’?”
Her face loses the little bit of color that was left. Her lips press together so tight they begin to turn white. She balls her napkin up and abruptly stands, picking up her plate, and moves to the door. “No. No, I haven’t.”
“Convincing…” I mutter as she hands off her plate to someone on the other side and dismisses them for the night.
I turn, watching her aimlessly walk around the room as I just did, wringing her hands. She doesn’t keep a full-time staff, but dismissing the servants this early is unusual. At least it was when I lived here. I don’t really know what is normal for her anymore.
What has she even been doing since Nova’s death?She used to be so involved in the lessons. Did that stop long ago or did it stop when I was the one getting the lesson instead of Nova?
“Lovely to see you, darling.” She gives me a fake toothy smile as she sidles from the room, dismissing me too.
I sit there, staring at nothing, trying to decide how to get her to talk to me even after she has apparently decided the conversation is over.
About the time the noises from clean up in the kitchen stop, she reappears, dressed up like she is about to go out.
