Usually she hid behind her best friend and research partner, Ruby Goode, when it was needed. Where Atria was quiet, Ruby was a font of enthusiasm and sparkling charm. She could win over just about anyone, and those few who somehow managed to resist her were inevitably steamrolled by her borderline reckless confidence.
Atria had confidence in spades. She just didn’t have much charm to speak of.
That wasn’t helped by the fact that being around strangers for extended periods of time tended to make her uncomfortable — and not just because they always hadquestions.
Normally, she would have done just about anything to get out of the invitation the sovereign of the Elvish Protectorate and his wife had extended to her, but for Margot Goode she made an exception.
While Ruby would always hold her spot as Atria’s closest friend, she had counted the reclusive healer as dear to her since they met ten years ago. Margot was brilliant, and in the years before she ran off to San Francisco to elope with the terrifying sovereign, Atria had often dismayed over her baffling lack of opportunities to use that incredible mind.
The three women had spent many late nights in Ruby’s apartment discussing advanced m-theory, sigilwork, and the never-ending carousel of Goode family drama. Margot had always held herself a little apart, but Atria never pushed.
She understood what it was like to hold parts of one’s self close, and her innate abilities meant she was often privy to things she had no right to know. Margot never shared her pain with herself or Ruby. That was her choice. Atria had only ever asked if she wanted her help once. When she quietly turned her down, looking spooked, it was the end of the discussion.
Three years after Margot’s world-shaking announcement that she’d married not only an elf — beings who, up until that time, were notorious for abstaining from relationships with non-elves — but the one whoruled them all,everything made a lot more sense.
“Oh, it’s so good to see you!” Margot, dressed in washed-out jeans and a soft sweater, met her at the door and surprised her with a quick, tight hug.
Atria looped her arms around her friend’s slim back and squeezed. Touch was, in a very literal sense, her love language — and something she had been mostly deprived of for a year.
Well,she thought, clutching Margot even tighter,maybe more than a year.
Her and her ex had had an active sex life, certainly, but Norman had never been particularly affectionate. Long before their relationship began to crumble, he’d starved her of the thing every empath needed: regular, affectionate contact.
Ruby was free with her hugs and kisses, but their research often left them on opposite ends of the continent, or otherwise sequestered. So it was a relief for Atria to hug her fellow witch, though she was surprised by how readily Margot offered it.
They were friends, but never once had she offered so much as a handshake. Though she was kind to her core, the healer had always kept herself well away from others, both physically and emotionally. Things had obviously changed in the years since she saw her last.
A great many things,Atria thought dryly. Her eyes lowered to where she could just make out the tips of Margot’s delicately pointed ears cutting through the strands of her unbound hair.Many, many things.
Of course, there were the obvious things — her marriage, her ears — but then there were the parts only Atria could sense. Though she went out of her way to keep her abilities to herself, it was impossible for her not to notice how desperately lonely, angry, and afraid Margot had once been. Sometimes just being near her had sucked the air out of Atria’s lungs, as if the weight of the healer’s pain was so vast it had its own crushing, gravitational pull.
But it wasgone.
The woman who pressed a kiss to her cheek was not entirely free of pain, but it was merely a shadow cast by something rapidly disappearing on a faraway horizon. Utterly insubstantial in comparison.
After several blissful moments, Margot pulled back enough to beam up at her. The marriage sigil between her brows was silver with age, and when her long copper hair moved, it further revealed ever-so-slightly pointed ears. Atria’s heart ached for her even as she smiled back.
“I see you’ve gotten your ears pierced,” she playfully noted.
Margot laughed and reached up to touch one of the heavy aquamarine stones that hung from her ear lobes — the exact same color, Atria noted, as her husband’s skin. “You know, I always wanted to, and then after everything — well, why not? People are going to look at my ears anyway. Might as well dress them up a little.”
“Your ears are beautiful,” Atria firmly replied. “And the earrings are a fantastic touch. I’m guessing they were a gift?”
The Goodes were notoriously thrifty, and though Margot had joined the famously lavish elvish society, Atria had trouble imagining her completely shucking all that she’d grown up with.
“Oh, yes. Theodore likes to leave me gifts, even when I tell him not to.” She rolled her eyes, but her smile was absolutely besotted. Leaning in slightly, she whispered, “To be honest, I think he enjoys it more when I complain.”
Atria felt the golden glow of Margot’s happiness fizzle in her veins. If she could have, she would have bottled it up and hoarded it like the finest champagne. She dreamed of being able to sip it later, when everything felt too heavy, too much to endure on her own.
Lowering her voice to a teasing whisper, Atria replied, “Well, maybe he does. But maybe he is also smart enough to know he should always remind you he is well aware of how lucky he is to have you.”
Margot wrinkled her nose and gave a distinctly unladylike snort. “No, I think it’s just that he likes to make sure I’m always thinking about him — even when I’m annoyed.”
The tiniest pang of envy struck her. Not because of the jewelry, but because of the love that permeated the very air she breathed, no matter how sturdy she built the psychic barriers around herself. Margot and Theodore were practically drowning in the steady, wholehearted sort of affection that most people could only dream of — herself included.
Setting that ugly feeling aside, Atria arched her eyebrows and asked, “Can’t it be both? I’ve heard people tend to be the most annoying when they’re in love.”
Margot laughed again, full-throated and unburdened as Atria had never seen her. She was a woman completely transformed, and when she gave Atria another quick hug, it was like being clasped in the arms of sunshine itself.
