“Soil.” Ollas dodged her swatting hand. “A little.”
Eunny stilled.
“But I’m so used to it at this point I don’t really notice. I should’ve warned you. Sorry about that.” He gave her an abashed smile.
“You mean, the…?” Eunny trailed off, confused.
“The imbued amendments. Even mundanes can feel the physical aspects of the spells when they’re activated,” Ollas explained. “I forgot that it can be surprising if you’re not expecting it. These cold pellets have a bite.”
“Yeah, that—that was a shock.”
They lapsed into silence, but one that lacked their usual easy comfort. When Ollas chanced a look out the corner of his eye, Eunny appeared pensive, chewing at her lower lip.
“Did something happen tonight?” he asked, voice soft. “You seemed a little upset when you came in.”
Eunny made a series of annoyed sounds as they took the lift up to their apartment, finally muttering, “No. Just Bioon being herself. Thinks she’s the sword of Graelynd or something, the way she went on about national pride bullshit. Shame on me for slumming it up here in my precious Valley.” Her tone turned sour for the last words.
Kicking off her shoes, she dropped onto his couch bed instead of seeking her room. “I think I hate her, Nev.” She fell back, addressing the ceiling: “I hate my mother, and that probably makes me a bad person, and you know what? I don’t even feel bad about it.”
Ollas looked around, but the apartment was otherwise empty. He sat on the edge of the couch, unsure of how to respond.
Eunny’s cheeks puffed as she blew out a long breath. “I think the worst part is how Aunt Yerina still tries. Thinks we can be a happy family. She doesn’t say it, but I know she’s disappointed in me for not trying more.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
Eunny huffed softly to herself, the sound stretching into a yawn. “Gods, I’m tired. She sucks the life out of me.”
“I’d take you as a protector of the Valley any day over your ma as the champion of Graelynd.”
Eunny huffed a laugh. She plucked at the edges of the blanket, briefly meeting his eyes before looking back up at the ceiling. “How’d you escape all this?”
“Which part?”
“The expectations. I mean, your mom’s great and all, but she never put any demands on you? Ever?” Her eyes drifted closed.
Ollas fiddled with his own corner of the blanket. “Well, she’s hinted that she’d like grandchildren someday.”
Eunny smiled, eyes still shut. “Why hasn’t that worked out? You’re the Homegrown Hero.” She didn’t see his grimace. “You’re really going to tell me that didn’t get you any fans, wanted or otherwise?”
Ollas felt heat rise in his cheeks. Glad that she wasn’t watching him, he murmured, “Nothing serious.”
“Never had a thing with Zhen? Before she got all obsessed with that dickbag from?—”
“Rhydian’s not so bad. It’s complicated.”
“Is that Sentinels brotherhood I hear?” Eunny cracked one eye to give him an unamused look before closing it again. “You sound like her. But that proves my point. Nothing with Zhen? Before you guys decided to just be friends.”
Ollas winced. His ma had asked the same thing a time or two. Probably most of the upper levels in the Grove had wondered the same. “No, just friends. Good ones, but only that. People used to tease her about it, until you put a stop to that.”
“Kids are jerks.”
“And you put the fear of the Goddess in them. Made believers out of me and Zhen, that’s for sure.”
Eunny yawned, spreading her arms wide. “That’s right. Worship at the Altar of Song.”
“I think I always have,” Ollas murmured, more to himself than to her. He forced a grin. “Did Zhen ever tell you about how she confirmed our friendship?”
Eunny shook her head, her drowsy “uh-uh” muffled behind closed lips.
