“Delaney, this is brilliant,” Inessa says, then promptly stuffs an entire cucumber sandwich into her mouth.
My smile drops when I reach the bottom of the page. Under the details of the presentation ball it states,Escorts required. I understand keepingsometradition, but this one seems pointless. They’ve also kept etiquette and dance lessons on the agenda, but they’ve tweaked the dress code. White formal wear and gloves are no longer mandatory.
“Seriously.” Sabine reaches for the tea. Everyone’s mood seems to have improved, like it was the morale booster we needed. “I know my dad will donate—and he can probably talk his colleagues into giving.”
“Delaney?”
I whirl in my seat and find Mrs.Vidar-Tett motioning for me. “I’ll be right back,” I tell them.
I follow her toward the back of the room, away from the chatter and instrumental music humming through the speakers.
“I wanted to apologize for our last meeting,” she explains. “I can’t understand what you’re going through, and I won’t pretend to, but I do want to support whatever you want for your future.”
This takes me by surprise. I don’t quite know how to react, so I say, “Oh—thank you.”
“I just hope that, if you do need someone to talk to, you find that. It doesn’t have to be me, though you know my offers stands.” She smiles. “One of the great things about this place is that it’s full of people who care about you.” She nods toward my table, then begins to walk away.
A hollow emptiness expands inside me. I don’t understandwhy. She’s supporting what I want for my future, but maybe that’s the terrifying part. Pinpointing whatIwant.
Inessa calls me back over, so I push the thought from my mind and try to enjoy this tiny slice of success.
Later, when the welcome tea is over, I’m making my way toward the dining hall when a figure barrels toward me. It takes me a moment to realize it’s William.
“I’ve been searching for you,” he says once he’s closer. “I must speak with you. Urgently.”
My eyes widen. “Was there a breakthrough with the equations?”
He shakes his head as he pulls a library book from his shoulder bag, turns a few pages, then positions it toward me. There’s an image I don’t recognize, mostly because it’s a clearing made of grass and dirt and not much else. The text underneath reads,Formerly Dunbry Park, the residence of the Right Hon. Lord and Lady Cromwell.
He’s found his family’s estate.
The text offers nothing else, nothing of William or his ancestry, which leads me to believe he hasn’t accidentally stumbled upon his future.
“It’s gone,” he says, voice empty. “It was demolished. The expense of maintaining it became a burden and so they…destroyed it.”
I lift my gaze. His round eyes hold oceans of concern, his expression completely crushed. We learned about this in world history, if only briefly. Country manors and estates in the UnitedKingdom were seen as unnecessary financial burdens to those who’d inherited them because they didn’t have the means to pay taxes and staff, which resulted in abandonment or demolition.
The heat of my hand sinks onto his sweatshirt sleeve. “I’m so sorry.”
There’s nothing I can say to rectify his misery. It’s a helpless feeling.
He blinks rapidly at the page, as though it’s an illusion that might fix itself. “I had hoped to return,” he says quietly. “If we were unsuccessful in our attempts at manipulating time, I hoped I could at least return home. Even if my family—” He doesn’t finish that thought. “I thought home would remain.”
A lump rises in my throat. The devastation of this revelation makes lead of my bones, heavy and fraught. It’s what I’d felt back at wish night, hadn’t I? That reassurance you could return to a place that would always exist. Because if a place filled with memories could be forever taken away, destroyed with the passage of time, then what’s left?
Nothing.
No one will remember it.
And everything that once mattered no longer will.
William’s eyes dip to my hand. I’m still touching his arm. Reddening, I hastily remove it.
“I heard about Ivernia,” he says, moving an inch closer. “And I do not wish to lose this home, too.”
His eyes are ablaze, lips slightly parted, revealing imperfectteeth and tender volition. When I’m around him, my nerve endings sparkle like the last dregs of fireworks popping and shimmering across the night sky. I know pieces of him, but there’s an urge to learn more. This otherworldly mystery with impeccable manners and a desire to save this place even though it hasn’t been home for very long.
“Remember when you mentioned the charity bazaar?” I say. “We’re implementing our own version. An alumni gala that’ll happen at the senior presentation ball. And if we can raise enough funds, it might be okay.”
