Her grandmother looked up as she entered the room now, her green eyes widening and her hand tightening around her linen napkin. Silva felt the desolate look in her grandmother's eyes like a prick to her heart, but she wasn't that little fish anymore,and she could not be happy in this beautiful bowl, watching the world at a distance from the safety of Cevanorë.
"Darling, look how lovely you look. Come, sit, sit. I've already ordered for us." Her lips pressed together tightly, another squeeze to the napkin. She was trying so hard to pretend as if nothing were amiss, that Silva had not abruptly walked away from all of them for the last several months, after a lifetime of being her grandmother's little shadow.
Silva reached out, pulling the napkin from her grandmother's hands and replacing it with her own. "I'm so glad to see you, Nana."
For the next half hour, her grandmother chattered about everything and nothing — catching her up on club gossip she had missed, without making it seem as if she had missed it at all. Telling her about the banquets that were being planned, the winter fundraiser, the spring fashion show. All things Silva should have known. Committees she should have been on, events she should have been planning. Nana spoke of them as if Silva's absence in the stories were not a glaring omission.
"I-I hope you be able to come to the harvest banquet, darling. I would so love to see you there."
Their tea service consisted of a three-tiered tray of sweet and savories. Delicate, sugar dusted petits fours with tiny candy violets and cucumber and watercress with dill cream on pumpernickel rounds. Silva's cheeks heated. He didn't like watercress, never had, he'd told her the afternoon they'd gone to tea in that tatty little tea room, the weekend of his party. The weekend everything had changed.
"I had tea at that little shop off Main recently," Silva confided, changing the subject away from club matters.
That was the problem, she thought. She understood the value of the club. Understood the necessary need for camaraderie for Elvish women, who would otherwise be left alone once theirhusbands were gone. The problem that she could see as clear as day, now from the outside of her little fishbowl, was that if one never left the confines of their controlled environment, the environment was all that mattered. She couldn't be happy here again. Couldn't listen to the same recycled gossip, wouldn't tolerate the nonstop competition and scheming. The world was huge outside of this bowl, and she wanted to see more of it.
She knew her grandmother and mother had not visited Azathé tea room before. They had discussed it when it first opened, but word quickly spread through the dining room of how strange it was, the macabre atmosphere and decor, the strange automation that manipulated the serving tables and brought out the tea service. Now, Silva knew better.
She had marveled over the little cat at the host stand who had seated them — seated them and then refused to leave. The cat had butted Tate's ankles, rubbing its body against his shins and eventually jumping up into his lap as Silva laughed. The cat looked as if it might have been content to stay there, but something caught its attention and it hopped down, trotting back to his little cushion at the front door somewhat unwillingly. The interior of the shop was covered from floor to ceiling in strange curios and bric-a-brac, towers of books, and instruments of the occult. It was strange, but she had spent enough time at Clover and the Pixie to understand that it was likely a gimmick, merely something to set the shop apart.
That was, until they were served. Tate turned slightly in his chair, doing a double take at something just behind them. He looked as Silva chattered; looked again a moment later. She was just about to ask him what was wrong when he'd turned fully in his chair.
"Do we have a problem, lad?"
He was addressing the empty air. Silva's mouth had dropped open, concern heating her cheeks.
"Because if there's not a problem, I'm going to ask that you stop gawking at us like we're a couple of common criminals. We’re just trying to take tea; I thought that was the point of this shop."
"Tate, there-there's nothing there," she'd hissed urgently, slightly panicked over his overblown reaction to the empty room.
"Silva, they're standing right there, plain as day. And if you’re not sliding teaspoons into the front of your dress, I’m not sure what we’ve done to earn the scrutiny."
To her amazement, the empty air he'd been addressing rippled and she'd gasped. The creature melted from the shadows,madeof shadows.
"I apologize most sincerely. I truly didn't mean to cause you any —"
"I'm not interested in hearing about your perversions, mate. The lady's just trying to enjoy her tea."
Silence, and then they solidified a bit more. Their voice was a sinuous whisper, and she’d shivered. "Of course. My apologies. It’s just that . . . I've never seen one ofyourkind. That's all."
Tate smiled, wide and horrible, his mouth as crowded with jagged teeth as she'd ever seen it. "Not many to see."
"Quite."
"I didn't realize the shadow realm was given a free pass. Good to know. Now, if you don’t mind."
The rest of their lunch was uneventful, and very good, if she was being truthful. The incident had left her discomfited, but Tate only shrugged on his way out the door, after pausing to scratch the cat behind the ears, talking to the feline in a language she did not understand.
"Shadowfolk. That's who runs this. It's not magic, just very clever."
"What did you mean about a free pass?"
He'd said nothing for a moment, taking her hand and threading their fingers. "The shadow realm exists in between this world and the otherworld. I suppose it's a bit of a neutral territory. Where are we off to now, little dove?"
"It was very interesting," was what she told her grandmother. "A bit strange. But the tea service wasquitegood. They have a huge selection. Maybe . . . maybe we could go there for lunch sometime?" That was what she needed to do. Get her grandmother and mother out of this club once in a while, show them how big the world was beyond these gates.
"I'd like that, darling." Her grandmother squeezed her hand, her eyes filling with tears, face crumpling for a moment. "Silva, I don't know what we've done to make you so angry with us. No matter what sort of row you had with your mother, darling, there's nothing done that can't be undone."
Her heart squeezed. Of course her grandmother knew nothing of their fight. That, more than anything, showed that her mother was counting on this being a temporary bout of rebelliousness.Are they serious? Of course not. It's only a matter of time before she goes running back to her family.Silva took a sip of her water, sucking in the fortifying breath.
