Kael went instantly to the marble run, as soon as Lurielle let go of his hand. Kora wriggled like a fish until she slid down Lurielle’s body, setting off towards the blocks. A quick scan of the room showed her all of the usual suspects, Yanna holding court at the center of a semicircle of chairs, the other parents orbiting her as if she were the sun, like a benevolent goddess of iced matcha and activewear. Lurielle could see Tate’s little girl in the castle as she dragged over a chair for herself.
“Silva said you labeled all of her cupboards.”
Tate snorted, rolling his eyes. “Her cupboards needed it. She had pasta and cling wrap on the same shelf. How’s one meant to find the biscuits when they’re behind the olives? I need a new project. That’s all.”
Lurielle considered that. She also liked having a project, like her ever-expanding flower garden. “What was your last project?”
His head cocked, thinking. “The restaurant.”
Typical. “You know, most people mean, like, ‘I’m to paint the garage this weekend,’ when they say they need a project.” Lurielle was also a perfectionist overachiever, but type A overachievers were a different breed.
He laughed. “That’snot a project. And I’m not most people.”
They were distracted, and of course, that was when it happened.
A small body fell off the ledge of the climbing structure on the side of the castle, tumbling down, landing with a soft thud.Instantly, Lurielle was on her feet, sucking in a panicked breath. Kael was still at the marble run, and Kora was in line for the slide. Tate was on his feet as well, his eyes searching out Aelin, finding her at the table with the tea set, holding a stuffed animal. It was Yanna’s little boy, Lurielle could see. The little selkie’s cries split the room, and his mother leapt up from her chair, her head rising belatedly.
Lurielle winced. Regardless of whether or not she liked the kidorhis mother, she never wanted to see anyone’s baby hurt. His mouth was bleeding, she could tell, but fortunately, it didn’t appear to be worse than a cut lip.
“What did he do to his shoes?” one of the other mothers asked. “No wonder you fell, buddy! You’re all knotted up here!”
Tate was still standing, Lurielle realized, his eyes tight, locked on Aelin. “She’s okay,” she assured him. “That’s the first thing I did, too. Look for mine.”
He didn’t answer, nor did he sit. Aelin, Lurielle realized, was staring right back, unblinking, her eyes wide and innocent. When she crossed the room to press herself against her father’s side, Lurielle watched the way he took her face in one long-fingered hand, turning it up to meet his eyes again. He said nothing, but they stared at each other, long and silent.
She didn’t know why it left her discomfited.
She understood the impulse to check over one’s own child, obviously. Her eyes immediately sought out Kora and Kael, ensuring they were safe. Ensuringtheywere not the ones who had fallen. Whateverthiswas . . . it wasn’t that.You’re being silly. He’s been nothing but nice since he’s been back, and you’re being specist.
Even so, it was a relief when playgroup ended that day, and she quickly hustled her two little ones across the parking lot, sighing when they were in the car.
“Know what I think we should do next week?” she asked, pulling out of the community center parking lot. “Let’s skip playgroup. Maybe we’ll go to the zoo.”
If nothing else, some distance between her children and Yanna’s little boy would be welcome, Lurielle told herself. There was no other reason.
And if there is, you’re being ridiculous.
Silva
The heavy cardstock arrived with all the pomp of the wedding invitations she had never sent out.
One-year anniversary . . . dissolution of marriage contract . . . formally request your presence at a ceremonial Unbinding, to be conducted in accordance with tradition.
Below that, in smaller type —Attire: formal.
Like a gala, Silva thought. Like a club gala, the sortthisclub wouldn’t have been able to successfully put on if it had marched unbidden through their doors like a parade. All to make her a spectacle. She held the card at arm’s length in her kitchen, the late afternoon sun slanting through the window and catching the gold border, making it flash.They even sprung for foiling. How embarrassingly tacky.
Across the room, Tate was pretending not to watch her, carefully crimping the edge of his pie, but Silva could feel the weight of his eyes every time she lowered her head to read it again.
“Will they be setting fire to you, Silva? Or merely frog marching you out in shame when it’s done?” His voice was light and airy, as if they were discussing their weekend plans.
Her laughter caught in her throat, and she dropped the card in the sink.
She had gotten lucky. Silva still couldn’t deny that. Tannar was thoroughly unobjectionable. He had the emotional intelligence of a turnip and had fully uninvested in her the instant she was anything other than sweet, empty-headed Silva of the Daytime, but she would be lying to herself and the world if she pretended that she had entered into the relationship under honest pretenses.
It could’ve been worse. He could have been cruel. He could have hit her. He could’ve had her hospitalized once she began to let her mask slip, for as different as she was, compared to the bubbly puppet he had thought he’d wed.
“You know, he didn’t even fight me when I left. I think that’s the most insulting part. He was absolutely relieved that I was going. And they’restilldoing this.”
