“Kelly, I’m so sorry.” I hated myself for her tears, her pain. “I should be there with you. I’d put Bob in his place. We’ve all each other’s got. We should be facing this together – the Crawford sisters against the world.”
“No, Maeve,no.” Kelly said firmly. “Don’t you dare come back. If you do, I’ll never talk to you again, and then what would be the point of being stuck at Uncle Bob’s house without my scintillating conversation to keep you from going mad?”
I laughed, tears rolling down my cheeks. “But you’re hurting?—”
“Of course I am, you ninny. My parents were killed. But you being here isn’t going to make me hurt less. In fact, it would be worse, because I’d know that I was holding you back from your zany English adventure. Now, go on, tell me about the castle. No, tell me about the hot guys!”
I grinned despite myself, the memory of the last dream echoing across my mind. I’d mentioned in my texts that the four tenants were actually totally hot dudes, and ever since Kelly had been hounding me with suggestive emojis. She was getting almost as bad as Mom with the emojis?—
No, don’t think about Mom.
Instead, I described each of the guys in detail, starting with Corbin and finishing with Arthur. I wasn’t sure if I should mention the kiss, but when it got to it, I couldn’t help it.
“Omigod!” Kelly squealed. “Arthur sounds absolutely scrumptious. You’ve got to send me pictures. I am so jealous right now. You’re living in a castle with four hot guys and are being kissed by Geralt of Rivia.”
“I consider him more of a blond Aragorn.”
“You did always have a thing for Aragorn. Are you dating yet?”
“I’m not in any state to date anyone, especially not someone who is technically my tenant.” But at the thought of it, I couldn’t help smiling. I told Kelly all about the tower room, and all the gifts the guys gave me, and Rowan’s breakfasts and the pub and learning to sword fight and playing croquet with Flynn.
“I’m so jealous,” she said, her tone wistful. “It sounds amazing.”
“It is, but it’s also…weird.” I ached to tell her about the fae, but I knew that was a terrible idea. She wouldn’t believe me, which made sense, since I still wasn’t sure I believed myself. Or, she might believe me, and she’d insist on coming here, and I wouldn’t put her in danger. “There’s a picture of my birth mother in the hallway. She looks a lot like me, only way prettier.”
And last time I looked at it, I heard a voice talking to me, but let’s not mention that.
“I betArthurdoesn’t think so.”
“Shut up,” I grinned, cradling the phone in my arms.
We talked for a little longer, Kelly’s voice making my chest ache a little. She sounded so clear, as if she was just in another room and not thousands of miles away.
After we finished the phone call, my eyes were wide open. No way could I go back to sleep now. I pulled on my robe and padded across the bedroom and down my narrow, winding staircase.
My throat itched from all the talking and laughing – a glass of water or juice would definitely help.
As I padded down the hall toward the secret staircase, I noticed a shaft of moonlight from one of the tall windows falling across my birth mother’s portrait.
No, not moonlight. I peered out the window into the courtyard below. A square of light from the library downstairs stretched across the cobbles, casting a faint glow along the rows of ancient stones. Through the window I could make out Corbin’s broad shoulders hunched over his desk, a stack of books piled high beside him.
He must be working all hours, trying to figure out how to stop the fae.
I thought of going down there to see him, but the memory of Corbin’s touch in my dream stopped me. I pulled away from the window and my gaze flickered back to my mother’s portrait. I stood in front of it, gazing up at her. The citrine jewels on her finger, necklace and diadem glimmered as though they were more than just paint splashed on a canvas. Her lips – so like mine – curled back into that mysterious smile.
Her eyes aren’t the same as mine. Mine were hazel, with that weird shattered glass effect around the edges that Kelly once said was like looking into water. Hers were a cool, clear blue, bright and vivid and totally enchanting.
“I wish I’d been able to meet you,” I said, my voice echoing down the silent hallway. The portrait stared back with that same alluring smile. A heavy weight crushed my chest – the pain of a different life I might have lived if she’d still been alive, and of another person who moved on and left me behind.
Everything’s so messed up. I wish I had someone to talk to, someone who understand what it’s like to lose everything, what it feels like to not trust what you’ve seen with your own eyes?—
Talk to me, Maeve.
I leapt back from the painting, grabbing the sides of my head.That didnotjust happen. A weird, singsong voice that wasn’t my own didNOTjust talk to me inside my head.
I listened hard, tugging thick handfuls of hair until my scalp ached. But the voice didn’t come back. The castle remained as still and silent as death.
Okay. Now I’m imagining things. That’s great. Way to add another dimension to this totally fucked up mess I’ve got myself in.
