The house smelledlike dried lavender and incense, like it always did. Every wooden surface was gleaming and spotless. Aunt Maelis was obsessive about dust, and Mom loved to knit. Lace doilies rested under vases filled with half-wilted flowers, and an un-enchanted grandfather clock ticked in the corner, steady but off-time.
I sat at the kitchen table, elbows braced against the oil-worn wood, as my mom busied herself steeping tea.
Aunt Maelis settled across from me with her usual perfect posture, her jumpy blue eyes narrowing when I finally admitted what was eating me alive.
“She looked at me like I was…tainted,” I muttered, throat tight. “Like just being Darian’s cousin made me disgusting.”
Aunt Maelis pursed her lips, tapping one long nail against the table. “Honey, Darian’s never told me about a Rune before. If he kept it quiet, surely it couldn’t have been that serious.”
Darian always hid women from Aunt Maelis. She doesn’t quite understand how…adventurous her son is.
I shook my head, pressing my palms into my eyes. “Serious or not, it doesn’t matter. She clearly hates him, and now, she hates me by association. What the Fates did he do to her?”
My mom sighed, setting a steaming cup of chamomile tea in front of me. Her voice was soft but weighted with years of disappointment where Darian was concerned. “Baby, Darian’s never been as soft as you are with women. You think too much about feelings. He…” She hesitated, grimacing. “He doesn’t.”
Aunt Maelis frowned before her expression cracked into something almost apologetic. “Your mother’s right, Jesper. Darian always did have a cruel streak growing up. Who knows what words he’s let slip to that girl.”
“Still,” Mom told me, her brown eyes boring into mine. “Darian’s actions do not define you. If she’s smart, she’ll come around.”
As if summoned, the front door banged open, and Darian strode into the house. His shaggy dirty-blond hair was mussed, but he had a sour expression plastered on his face. “She won’t even give me another chance,” he snapped. “She’s probably spreading her legs for that psycho basilisk already.”
Aunt Maelis gasped. “Darian!”
Mom took a sip of her tea, but her gaze cut over her cup at Darian in disapproval.
Anger clawed up my spine. “Rune’s business isn’t yours anymore.”
Darian turned on me, sneering. “By the way, how do you even know her? Why are you talking about her?”
I stiffened, but kept my voice level. “She’s the agent coordinator’s daughter. Of course I know her.”
“You do?” His eyes flared with fury.
I nodded.
He cursed before storming out the same way he came in, the slam of the door rattling the framed photos on the wall.
The silence afterward was thick.
I looked at my mom and aunt, my chest tight with a guilt that wasn’t mine to carry. “I’m worried she’ll always connect me with him. That she’ll never…” I trailed off.
My mom reached across the table, her fingers warm as they folded around mine. “Jesper, you arenothinglike Darian. She’ll see that in time. For now? Cook her something. You’ve always been able to win people over with food.”
The suggestion pulled a weak smile from me. “You’re right, Mom.”
“Make us some, too,” Aunt Maelis suggested sweetly, making me chuckle.
I stood and moved into the kitchen, pulling open cabinets until I found the bundle of dried noodles I’d tucked away earlier in the week. Cooking always steadied me, each step was something I couldcontrol. Unlike on my missions, when anything and everything usually went wrong.
My hands moved on autopilot, filling a pot with water and setting it on the burner. Mom and Aunt Maelis’s voices hummed in the back of my mind, but I wasn’t listening anymore.
The chopping board thudded under the rhythm of my knife as I cut up carrots, green onions, and a few slices of bell peppers.
The hum of comfort broke when my phone rang. My chest tightened when I saw the name.
Agent Coordinator.
I answered on the second ring.
