Looks like I’m not the only one who received bad news.
Daphne leaps from my chair to settle on the sill beside him. “What happened?”
On tentative feet, I follow, curious to hear his answer.
He lowers his face and pinches the bridge of his nose. “My sister’s scholarship application was rejected. I’ll have to fund her college tuition in full, and the payment is due next month.”
“What about other schools?” Daphne asks.
“The Borealis School of the Arts is the only college she was accepted into.”
The pine marten perks up. “That’s here in town. You could talk to someone?—”
“I’ve talked to them already. The scholarship was our last chance.”
I stop a few feet away as William’s eyes flick to mine. The gleam in his irises is gone. He has no taunting smirk for me. No wink. No reminder of what we did in the elevator last night. There’s something more like an apology in his face.
And I know what he’s apologizing for.
I feel it down to my bones. The reminder that—despite everything we’ve done together and how we’ve grown closer—we’re still rivals. Both of us are equally desperate for the publishing contract, and if one of us wins, the other loses. Even if the runner-up is offered a lesser contract, only one of us will be given what we truly need.
Either William can afford to put his sister through college.
Or I have a career and a place to live.
Neither of us can wait. Neither of us have time.
William’s tuition payment is due in a matter of weeks.
Meanwhile, I have nothing to go home to if this tour ends without a new contract, without Mr. Fletcher advocating for my citizenship. I no longer have a publisher in Bretton. I can no longer afford my apartment. My only option will be to tuck tail and return to my family estate. I won’t be the expendable middle daughter anymore if I’m relying on my parents for financial support and a roof over my head. I’ll have to submit to their wishes at last. Marry. Give up my career to be a traditional wife.
These thoughts don’t spark my competitive nature like they would have before.
Instead, they carve a splinter in my heart.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
WILLIAM
How can so much change from one night to the next? How can one night be filled with shared secrets, longing glances, and an unraveling of desire when the next is filled with doubt? Fear. Regret. Not that I regret last night with Edwina. Only that I let myself want her so deeply that I lost sight of why I’m here. But I recall my purpose now. I recalled it when I received the letter from my sister this afternoon, and I haven’t gotten it out of my head since. It hammers at the back of my consciousness, even as our next signing begins. Even as I smile and flirt and sign book after book. On the outside, I’m William the Poet. On the inside, I’m a mess.
Tonight’s signing takes place under the open evening sky, on a rooftop above a bookshop on the outskirts of Lumenas. The heart of the city remains a beacon of light, but it’s calmer here, the buildings not so tall. The rooftop terrace hosts a casual atmosphere, with plenty of room to chat and mingle. There’s even a bar for libations. Overhead, strings of glowing orbscrisscross the space, creating a glittering canopy that evokes starlight brought closer.
Edwina and I are on opposite ends of the rooftop, our tables tucked in corners that allow only meager glimpses of her when the crowd parts. Which is for the best. I need to not stare at Edwina tonight. What I need is to get my head on straight.
I finish signing a stack of books for my current guest, and when she leaves, hugging the stack close to her chest as I give her a seductive wink, Zane takes her place. I let my persona slip, which brings a breath of relief.
Zane perches on the corner of my table. There’s no one in line behind them, as the easy mood has resulted in a less formal process. That doesn’t mean it’s been slow. The flow of guests has been steady, and I still get long lines before my table now and then.
“I finally got Edwina to sign a copy ofThe Governess and the Faefor me,” they say, flourishing the mauve book in their hand.
My pulse quickens at the mere mention of Edwina’s name. I clear my throat to ensure my voice is even as I speak. “I’m sure she would have signed a copy at any time.”
“Perhaps, but I couldn’t support your rival until I was certain you had enough support as well. You know, after your pitiful turnout at the Winter Court signing.”
I snort a laugh. “You were worried about my lack of popularity and thought one book would make a difference?”
“Well, I am your best friend. And I’m happy to see you do, in fact, have fans.”
