Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Caidan still. He’d gone up the staircase to collect the wicker basket, along with my mother’s gardening gloves, and was picking up all the strewn flowers and foliage that littered the steps.
My aunt’s features darkened, and her mouth parted as if she were going to speak, but my mother carried on talking, changing subjects. “I’ve got a few things to do tomorrow in Ascendria.” She raised her broken arm, now completely healed, and wiggled her fingers. I noticed her pale complexion had bloomed with color, and her gaze had lost the haze of pain that had shadowed her bright green eyes. Smiling up at my aunt, she said, “You’re welcome to come along too, Valarie.”
My aunt rarely left the estate. She was warm and vibrant, but when the Houses gathered, she was a quiet soul, kept to herself and seldom spoke to others. The embarrassment of her stutter stopped her from experiencing life, which was a shame.
She took a breath and rubbed her lips together. A line deepened between her brows as she concentrated and relaxed enough to push the words out fully formed. “Are you meeting Marissa?”
Marissa was one of my mother’s oldest friends. She hadn’t visited in months, and I missed those lazy lawn afternoons listening to their easy banter.
“No, not this time. I’ve got a few errands to run in the city. It could be a fun day out. Maybe while I’m out and about, you could visit the lake or the galleries,” my mother enticed her. “We could meet up afterward. High Tea at the Monarch Tower, perhaps?”
For a moment, I saw my aunt spark with life at the idea of visiting the art galleries. But I could taste her indecision on mytongue like the taste of tea that had too much milk, neither here nor there. There was yearning too, and a crest of self-doubt.
Do it, do it, do it—I mentally chanted.
I thought she was going to say yes. I think I was holding my breath in anticipation. Caidan too. No one moved. Not even Ferne.
Her shoulders fell and she seemed to shrink in on herself. My aunt scratched her paint-speckled arm, scrunching her nose. She shook her head, glancing down as her hand dropped to her lap, and she rubbed the flat of her palms against her thighs. “A-A-A-” She took a breath, her brow furrowing in concentration. “A-Another time, perhaps. I’m almost done with your portrait, and I want to get it finished.”
“Really?” my mother exclaimed, clapping her hands. My aunt was an incredibly talented artist. Her latest piece was a portrait of my mother in her beloved garden of white roses. We’d all seen the progression of the artwork over the last couple of weeks, but my mother hadn’t. My aunt had planned for it to be a grand reveal in a casual setting over a picnic dinner. My mouth watered at the thought of my dad’s churrasco. His special marinades, fresh herbs, spicy sauces, and that subtle smokiness infusing the grilled meat.So fucking yummy!
My aunt straightened, beaming. “By t-tomorrow, I will be.”
“When I get back home from Ascendria tomorrow, you’ll show me then?”
Aunt Valarie pretended to think, pursing her lips to the side and glancing upward. “Hmm… Maybe.”
My mother swatted her arm playfully, and Aunt Valarie broke into a glorious smile, one that warmed my soul and also fucked me off that no one outside our family got to see it.
Jett raised his head. “Can I come with you, Mom?”
She tapped his nose. “Not this time, Jett. You and Caidan have lessons with the governess tomorrow, and later, weapons training.”
My mother gingerly worked her back, then rose, helping Jett to his feet. She popped her hands on her waist, arching her spine, rolling her neck and shoulders, rotating an ankle and arm. “Ah,” she sighed. “Better,” she smiled.
Caidan handed her the wicker basket full of white roses, and she murmured her thanks. She glanced down at Jett, who was pushing his wavy hair back from his forehead. “I was about to put these in vases up in the family room. Want to help?”
Jett flashed a toothy grin, thought better of it, then shrugged nonchalantly. “Sure, I’ve got time.”
I laughed inwardly. He’d spend every minute with her if he had his way.
My mother smoothed down her sundress before turning her attention to me and Caidan. Uh-oh… I recognized that look. It looked sweet enough, but there was steel in her gaze.
“Now, which of you left your skateboard on the staircase?”
Caidan shifted uncomfortably. My mother honed in on him sharply, and he cleared his throat before saying, “Me.”
“C-Caidan,” my aunt snapped, rising, “I’m g-going t-to—”
“He’s ten years old, Valarie,” my mother reminded her.
“Old enough to know better.”
Aunt Valarie was tougher than my mother when it came to punishments. But in a lot of ways, she was softer, too. We’d all had our mouths washed with liquid soap. The last time had been a month ago when I’d exploded over discovering a few of my chess pieces had gone missing after my dickhead brother, Kenton, had used them as target practice and then lost them. I might have let loose every single curse word I’d ever gathered as we’d rumbled in the family room. Unfortunately, my aunt had been the one to overhear and break up our scrapping.Hellsgate, liquid soap was disgusting. Even now, I could still taste the phantom chemicals of fake-floral coating my mouth. But soon afterward, she knocked on my bedroom door with a tub of ice cream tucked under her arm, two silver spoons, and a chess set. We sat cross-legged on my bed, eating through the ice cream, having the best time as we played game after game. And while she’d waited for me to take my turn, she sketched funny caricatures of us both.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” Caidan said, his voice cracking.
“You know the rules. The banister is not for your skateboard tricks. And you are to pick up after yourself. Leaving your skateboard on the steps is incredibly dangerous.” Her look of disapproval seemed to cut deeper and hurt far worse than if she’d simply yelled. “What if this happened to someone else, like your aunt or one of our staff?”
