The girl straightened, narrowing her eyes. “Why do you care? You don’t work here.”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “And how would you know?”
“Because,” she huffed, “my parents run this library.”
Owen grinned. “So I should report your...testingto them?”
Her expression darkened, calculating. “At ease, academy boy,” she said, tilting her chin. “Alright. What’ll it take for you to forget this ever happened?”
“Your name,” he offered without hesitation.
She scoffed, already shaking her head. “Hah, not a chance. How about a pastry?”
Owen’s stomach growled at the mere suggestion. His rations at the academy were barely edible, and he’d skipped lunch out of habit.
He pretended to consider it. “You drive a hard bargain.”
With a dramatic flourish, she pulled a handkerchief from a deep pocket, hidden by the absurd amount of ruffles on her dress. “Here,” she said, extending a flaky, buttery pastry toward him. “For your silence.”
He accepted it but leaned back in his chair, inspecting her with a smirk. “The agreement was for me to forget,” he mused, tearing off a bite. “Silence is going to cost you extra.”
She huffed in exasperation before grabbing another pastry from her pocket and launching it at his chest.
“There! Now we’re even,” she declared before darting down the row of bookshelves, skirts billowing behind her.
Owen watched her go, chewing thoughtfully. He’d come here for solitude. But now, he hoped she’d crash into his quiet again.
38
Cirrus sat on the frozen shore, his fingers sifting through smooth pebbles before hurling them into the restless waves. The cold bit through his coat, but he welcomed it. Anything was better than the heat of the rainforest, the choking vines, the scent of everburn and blood. Wait.
The realization struck hard, sending his pulse racing. The misty shoreline, the sky-high cliffs, the estate perched behind him—this was Roanthe. Home.How the hell am I here?
He turned, and there she was—his mother, draped in a heavy woolen shawl, her pale hair fluttering in the salty wind. She walked toward him with a measured grace, her turquoise eyes full of concern and something sharper. Pity.
“I thought I’d find you here,” she said, settling beside him on the frigid sand.
Of course, she did. This was his place. The stretch of beach he retreated to when the world had gone to the everdark. The northeastern coast of Roanthe was never warm, never inviting. The skies were always gray, the water an unyielding slate of steel. People didn’t come here to swim or picnic. They came here to wallow.
His mother smoothed her white-blonde hair over her shoulder, studying him the way she always did, like he was a puzzle she hadn’t quite solved. “I’m sorry about Vivienne.”
Cirrus’ heart slammed against his ribs as his hands balled into fists.
“Has something happened to her?” he demanded, adrenaline pulsing through his body.
She let out a tired sigh, brushing a comforting hand over his arm. “Still in denial, I see.”
“Denial about what?” His breath came faster, his gut twisting. “Is she okay?”
“I’m sure she’s fine after stomping all over my baby boy’s heart for the second time.”
The second time?Cirrus’ thoughts raced.If breaking off our engagement was the first time… Did she leave me again?
He forced himself to swallow, his throat dry. “A second time?”
His mother gave him a look, her lips pursed in delicate disapproval. “Have you been out in the cold too long? That heartless harpy ended your second engagement. At least she returned the ring. Grandmamie would have caused a scene.”
We got engaged again. And she ended it.
