“Lyra is kind.” Margo nodded. “So is Calliope. But Cillian isnot.”
“Calliope, as in Callum and Caelia’s teenage sister? And Cillian, the youngest?” Byn tilted his head.
“Yes! Lyra had taken me outside to the gardens, and we came across them in one of the smaller training rings. Calliope looked like she was trying to teach Cillian something, but theydidn’thave any weapons. When Lyra and I showed up, Cillianseemed like he was already frustrated, but Calliope made him shake my hand anyway while we were being introduced. But then he yanked my glove off and kept refusing to give it back! He thought Iwas scared ofgetting my hands dirty, I think.”
Both Teagan’s and Byn’s eyes widened as they listened to Margorecallher time away from them.
“You have them back now, though.I hope you showed him who’s boss,” Byn said as he took both of her gloved hands in his and squeezed.
“Try not to worry. Youshouldn’trun into him again, aswe’releaving in the morning. But if you see him again, steer clear,alright?” Teaganadvised.
“Oh, I will. His colors were all wrong, anyway,” Margo responded, sounding as though seeing the young prince again was the very last thingshe’deverwantto do.
“Colors?” I finally spoke up after a wingbeat of silence.
At that one word,both of the olderThorntiers’eyes widened as their heads snapped my way. They looked as though they were quickly realizingthey’dmade some sort of mistake, though Iwasn’tsure what.I’dsimply assumed it was Margo using her wild imagination, but at their reaction, I was beginning to have doubts. Even Margo looked regretful a moment later.
Byn sighed and hung his head, but before he could open his mouth to speak, Teagan warned him, “Don’t.”
“She was going to find out eventually, Teagan. We hide it well, but our parents hid it better. Plus, if Viva knows, then at leastthat’sone more pair of eyes that can help us keep a more watchful eye on Margo,” Byn explained.
At that, Teagan pursed her lipsand looked back toward her sister.“It’s alright,” shereassuredMargo. “Go see what colors Viva has.”
The young female looked at each of her siblings, who nodded and encouraged her to head my way. Seeming to feel more confident, Margoboundedover to me. Taking my hand in her gloved one, she tugged me down to her level.
Kneeling, I watched as she unclasped her right glove at the wrist and slowly slid it off, letting it fall to the floor next to us.
She held her pale hand out toward the side of my face. I realized then that Icouldn’trecall a time where she had been without gloves on.
“May I?” she asked, her hand a short breath away from my cheek.
She’d been in a similar position with Ezra not too long ago.
Whatever this was, I could only assume the unofficial member of theThorntierfamily also knew.
Nodding slightly, I placed my hand over hers as she brought it to my face. Our eyes locked as she ran her thumb over the skin of my cheek, but Iremainedstill.
Waiting.
Within seconds, Margo’s gaze wandered away from mine, slipping to the space around me.The very air I was existing in seemed to be extremely fascinating to herall of a sudden, though I didn’t understand why.
“She’s a soft lavender,” Margo said after a moment, her eyes stillsearchingthe air around my figure. “With a mixture of all kindsof shades of blue. And a faint texture—like snow, or a fluffy cloud!”
“What… What is this?” I asked, tilting my head to look past her and toward Byn and Teagan.
“Margo sees the world differently than most fae,” Byn started.
“When she touches things—or sometimes when things touch her, specifically her skin—she sees all sorts of things. Colors, shapes, textures. You name it, she sees it,” Teagan carried on.
“But why hide it? If anything, it sounds like an awesome ability.” I shiftedmy gaze back to Margo as she slid her hand from my face and into the ends of my hair.
Feeling another texture—something different than before—I realized.
“It’san unreliable ability that can affect her judgement on those around her—like how she did with the young prince, Cillian. Shewon’tforget the colors she saw around him anytime soon, believeme,” Teagan explained.
“Plus, we want her to live as much of a normal life as she can.If she didn’t wear her gloves, our parents feared she’d become far too distracted by things that weren’treally there.The leather of the gloves, she says, is a very faint color—onethat’salmost unnoticeable—soit’sthe best we can do for her,” my husband said, running a hand through his hair and pushing it out of his eyes. “When she was younger, thetrokavssaidthey’dnever seen it before, but that itdidn’tseem to harm her. Still, it started to exhaust her—seeing things all the time. Hence why we limit it now.”
I supposed that made sense. If Margowasconstantly touching everyday objects, I imaginedshe’dbecome overwhelmed very quickly with different visuals only she could see.
