So I’ve made him stand behind me during the lesson.
He drops onto the chair and sits with a huff. I sit across from him and stare at my glass. “I told you it was pointless. There’s not a lick of magic inside of me. You might as well give up.”
He frowns. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Sell yourself short.”
My gaze shyly lifts to meet his. He’s studying me, his brow furrowed and the corners of his eyes crinkled. He drops his gaze, and his thick eyelashes nearly brush his cheeks they’re so long.
“I’m going to ask you something, and I want you to be honest.”
“Okay.”
“What makes you happy?”
“What’s that have to do with anything?”
He runs his finger along the rim of the glass. “Magic isn’t something you can touch, and often the only way to get at it is to free yourself, to be who you were meant to be. That means feeling something primal, like joy.”
Who I was meant to be? Who is that person? “I don’t know who I’m supposed to be, but what makes me happy? That’s easy. Books.”
“Of course they do.” He frowns for half a second before slapping his thigh and rising. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“I’m going to give you that tour I promised, but I’m also going to show you something else.”
“What?”
He grins mischievously. “It’s a surprise.”
There’s so much moreto the castle than I ever expected. There’s a hedge maze in back with a huge patio that overlooks it, and there’s also an indoor swimming pool. Yes!
There’s a greenhouse that grows the biggest elephant ears I’ve ever seen, and all the while there are fae, sweet, kind fae, who smile and greet me at every turn.
Feylin stops outside a door and turns to me, hand lifted in a stop motion. “I’m going to let you enter, but on one condition.”
I fold my arms and mock-glare at him. “What’s that?”
“No squealing, no hugging me, and no screaming.”
I cock my head in skepticism. “You really think I would lose my senses and hug you?”
“Yes.”
I grin. “Well, you won’t know if you don’t show me. I’m ready.”
“No screaming.”
“I won’t scream unless you keep this room from me, and then I might scream out of spite.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” He drops his hand onto the knob. “Are you ready?”
I grunt in frustration. “I’ve been ready.”
“Are you sure? Because I don’t want to let you in and?—”
