“Go on,” said Ru, waving a hand.Not now.“Just a vial.”
He didn’t move. “You’re angry with me.”
“I’m not.”
There was a long, tense pause. Fen leaned against the wall near the stairs, arms crossed, studying her. His grey eyes were narrowed, lips pursed ever so slightly. “Youareangry, though.”
“Why would I be angry?” His accuracy annoyed her. Sometimes it felt like he understood her better than she understood herself. She grabbed a broom, busying herself with sweeping up the shards of glass.
“I can think of a few reasons.” He pushed himself off the wall, easing toward her, slowly, as if trying not to startle a wild animal. “Some of which pertain to me.”
His low voice cut straight to her belly. Avoiding his gaze, she swept the glass into a wicker bin and set it aside, wiping her hands on her already dusty skirts. “That’s very self-aggrandizing.”
Fen finally caught her eyes, smiling, and Ru’s resolve weakened.
“Don’t you want to know the reasons?” he asked, now standing across the table from Ru. He leaned forward, resting his palms on the wood so that their eyes were level.
“Not really,” she said, glancing away. She didn’t need Fen to tell her that she was hurt by his avoidance when she was feeling especially vulnerable with him.
“Seriously, Ru,” he said, his voice painfully open, genuine.
She almost cracked then, almost crashed into him like a wave, the way she’d been wanting to for days and days. But she didn’t.
“This news about Lord D’Luc,” Fen said, nudging the subject into slightly less frightening territory. “We need a contingency. A plan of some kind.”
“I’m well aware,” said Ru. “If you’re worried about me losing control again, I won’t.” Her voice was like ice.
Talk to me, she thought desperately.Why did you avoid me all day? All she wanted from him was a hint that he might feel the same way about her, that he had felt it last night. But she couldn’t voice it. What if it was nothing, a side effect of the artifact? Or worse, what if Fen felt nothing for her at all? His friendship meant too much to her. And feelings were… difficult.
“If this is about last night,” said Fen, “I apologize again for the way I acted. I’ll apologize tomorrow, the next day, and every day for the rest of my life.”
That was the last thing Ru wanted: Apologies, regret.I acted in an ungentlemanly manner. She wanted to throw it all back in his face. Because the most hesitant part of her said that they had shared something true, something real. He had wanted her, just as she had wanted him. The artifact had only watered a seed that was already planted. Hadn’t it?
Or, said a louder part of her, it had all been the artifact, intoxicating her, and by extension Fen. That was all. Why else would he keep his distance now?
“No need,” she said, turning away to collect her things, a chill settling on her heart. “I’ve already accepted your apologies. Good night.”
She swept past him and up the stairs, into the hall, and finally to her room, where she threw herself on the bed and screamed into a pillow.
CHAPTER29
Agreat party was going to be held in honor of Lord D’Luc’s arrival in two days.
This had nothing to do with the professors, who hated the idea and were against it at every step. They were finally swayed by an endless onslaught from the academics, who were so deprived of real parties and the kind of pomp that took place in Mirith that they clung to the arrival of the regent’s advisor as if for dear life.
The party would take place in the Great Hall and would consist mostly of music — performed by the few enthusiastic musical academics who studied at the Tower — and dancing and drink. There would be a chance for Lord D’Luc to make a speech if he desired, and despite the fact that he was visiting for the purpose of checking up on Ru’s experiment with the artifact, nobody bothered to ask her to take part in any of the festivities.
It was clear to Ru that the academics had generally lost interest in the artifact, beyond the fact that it was now bringing in an exciting dignitary from the palace. She guessed this was because nothing entertaining or outright grisly had occurred in the dungeons, and therefore the attention of the academics had drifted elsewhere.
This should have painted Ru in a slightly more favorable light in the eyes of her peers, but instead, she had effectively returned to square one: a woman who continued to fail at proving the existence of magic.
The event had sprung up overnight like wildfire, and now the Tower was outright buzzing. Every mention of the party was like a little punch in Ru’s stomach, a reminder of the inevitability of Lord D’Luc’s arrival. Ru knew she would have to discuss the party with her team, who she had avoided the night before in favor of brooding in her room, and she dreaded the conversation.
It wasn’t that Ru couldn’t handle emotions, but they weren’t something that she processed easily. She couldn’t speak of them clearly, didn’t know how to express herself. So she had laid in bed all evening, staring up at the canopy and formulating hypotheses, calculations as to why Fen might be so repelled by her.
Each calculation, each formula, came to the same conclusion: Unknown.
And all the while, the artifact attempted to soothe her mind, whispering to calm her nerves, all for nothing. Nothing would have lifted her out of that dire mood.
