“You should have told me. I think I have healing tithes that could help.”
“I don’t want to be a burden. And I’m not your responsibility. Especially after I— You should be enjoying the wedding.”
“I’d enjoy it more with you.” Remembering last night’s conversation, I reluctantly added, “As your friend?”
To my surprise, he looked disappointed. “Right. Okay. If you’re sure.”
“Give me five minutes.”
Living out of a camper van had never seemed more convenient than when it only took me two minutes to run out to the field where I’d parked her and retrieve the tithes I’d need. On my way, out of paranoia, I checked the wraith’s shed. It was still warded, locked, with the blue light of the sigil glowing under the door and the wraith’s low, uneven breaths. Like it didn’t need to breathe but remembered living things ought to and only did so to feel normal.
I hurried back to the toilets. Kessian had managed to relocate to a bench outside them. Amelia had found him and given him a flute of sparkling wine, two more in hand.
“I know what kind of injury that is,” Amelia joked. “Don’t blame it on your cane.”
“I brought the tithes,” I said, before things devolved from wank jokes to jokes about Kessian and I, who were not engaging in those activities anymore, a fact that I was keen not to ruminate on.
I pressed the magic gently into Kessian’s hand, letting it flow up his wrist. His fingers uncurled from their stiff positions a little, brushing my palm as I drew back.
“Better?”
He flexed his hand. “Much. Still a few twinges, but I can walk from the bathroom to my seat in the dining hall.”
Amelia handed me the second glass of wine she held. “You know I’m not comfortable with sappy speeches, so let me get this out fast. I wanted to say a small toast. You both saved my life. Not often anyone gets asecond chance like that, but I’m grateful. And I’m hoping it means you’ll give Shearwater a second chance, too.” She didn’t specify whether she meant me or Kessian, just held out her glass to chime against ours and finished, “To you both, and to second chances.”
Kessian met my gaze for a beat too long as we echoed her.
“I’ll see you both on the dance floor later,” Amelia said.
“Ah yes, me with my peanut brittle hips,” Kessian remarked.
“I’m sure your boyfriend can limber you up and carry you.”
“We aren’t boyfriends,” I said.
“Ah, my mistake.” She turned to Kessian. “Youridiotwill be happy to limber you up and carry you onto the dance floor.”
She departed with a sarcastic salute. We made our way to the dining room, not talking about what she’d said.
Dinner and speeches passed by, an entire day devoted to romantic overtures while my own love life drowned. I had done an admirable job of avoiding the ennui for the majority of the day, but as the first dance kicked off, Fae and Camilla besotted with each other and twirling across the floor under fairy lights, it hit me hard.
Nine years of running, nine years of flash fire connections and faster goodbyes, and the one person I’d decided to risk putting down roots for didn’t trust that he could do the same with me. And I understood his reasons—people hadn’t been a reliable source of shelter in his life, and he needed a home, and he’d only known me such a short time. It still felt like I was the butt of a cosmic joke.
Or perhaps that was the alcohol making me melancholic.
When the song changed and I came back to myself, I found Kessian had been watching me.
“Amelia was right, you know. If you want a dance, you’re going to have to carry me.”
Before I could ask if he was joking, my mum descended upon the table. She sat straight-backed and crossed her legs at the knee, wineglass balanced upon them and held by the stem.
“Fae’s very happy you came,” she said. Subtext:I didn’t want you to, but I’m capitulating that it might have been worth it.
I was not great at reading people, but my mother was a different story. Sixteen years of predicting her moods and what she truly meant withher passive-aggressive comments had made me an expert linguist in her particular tells.
“I’m glad I could.”
“Are you both enjoying yourselves?” Small talk to set the groundwork for what she really wanted to say.
