“Clearly, yes.” Rivenna’s gaze swept over the teacups, which Lucie would have discreetly collected from various patrons throughout the morning and magically labeled.
“Well, I’ve said it before, and I shall say it again: You never should have dismissed that charming Miss Sparkwater. While not from the most elevated circles, she at least hailed from a respectable, middle-class fae family. One truly cannot havehumansmeddling in matters of magic.”
“I trust Lucie implicitly,” Rivenna said serenely, picking up the first of the teacups. She read out the name. “Lady Emberlee Whispermist. I presume you’d like this one, Lycilla?”
“Oh, yes. Thank you.” Lycilla reached for the teacup her youngest granddaughter had used.
“She’s achild, Rivenna.”
“She’s eighteen and manifested months ago. She’s considered a young woman now, Amarind.”
“Not Emberlee! I’m speaking of that Miss Lucie Fields. Thathumanchild.”
“She’s fifteen. You were barely older than her when you manifested.”
“I was sixteen. But yes.” Amarind preened, momentarily distracted. “I did manifest uncommonly early, did I not?” Then her face fell back into its previous expression of distaste. “But that has nothing to do with this. The girl will obviously never manifest; she’s human. That’s beside the point. The point is?—”
“She can learn basic magic, Amarind, like any other human. She has already begun to do so. How do you think she labeled the teacups for me?” Rivenna lifted the next cup, which still had purple lip stain on the rim. “Now. This one belongs to?—”
“As I was saying, my point is?—”
“Your point is that you harbor suspicions towards her, and you are, of course, entitled to hold such a view, erroneous though it may be. The only thing of import is that Idofind her entirely trustworthy.”
On the tray in front of Rivenna, the remaining teacups rattled nervously in their saucers. “Hush,” Rivenna told them. “There’s nothing to be concerned about. Amarind and I are merely enjoying a trifling difference of opinion.”
Amarind huffed. “Well,youmay find this exchange enjoyable. I, however?—”
“Speaking of manifestations,” Lycilla interjected lightly, “has Rosavyn shown any signs yet?”
Rivenna kept her expression carefully neutral. Her granddaughter was already eighteen, and while Rivennamaintained complete faith that Rosavyn’s powers would manifest any day now, she couldn’t deny a small kernel of worry. “Not yet, but I’m not concerned.”
“Too late for this season though,” Amarind observed with what Rivenna considered unnecessary relish.
And indeed it was. None of Rivenna’s five grandchildren would be presented this year. Jasvian and Evryn, now twenty-four and twenty-two respectively, had debuted several seasons ago, while the twins, Kazrian and Aurelise, were only sixteen. Generally considered too young to manifest, though Amarind had been an exception to that norm.
“And by next season—” Amarind began.
“She will have manifested by next season,” Rivenna cut in. Rosavyn would be nineteen then. All young fae manifested by nineteen.
“Of course, of course.” Amarind’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Or perhaps the year after. Twenty years of age is the absolute latest.”
Rivenna lifted her chin and proclaimed, “Rosavyn will manifest precisely when the time is right, not a minute sooner or later.” Though hopefully not at agetwenty, she added with a silent plea. Twenty would be considered shockingly late to manifest, though Rosavyn was a Rowanwood, so she would survive the scandal.
Amarind sniffed. “I suppose not everyone can be blessed with children who manifest early. Though I must say, it does make one wonder about the waning strength of certain …distinguishedbloodlines.”
Rivenna went still, her hand tightening around the teacup. Lycilla gasped softly. On the table, the sugar bowl tipped itself over and the dainty sugar cubes arranged themselves into the word RUDE.
“Oh, stop,” Amarind said, flicking the nearest sugar cube. It shot off the table and was expertly caught by the eagerly rustling leaves that reached out to snatch it from the air. “You know perfectly well that was said in jest. Now, forget those teacups for a moment. I have far more interesting news to share.” She leaned forward and paused, clearly savoring the moment. “About the carriages that arrived at the Starspun residence two nights ago.”
“Amarind, darling, am I to understand you are only just catching wind of this now? Bloomhaven has been abuzz with the news since yesterday.” Rivenna turned her attention back to the tray of teacups. She’d overheard quite a bit of chatter about it in the tea house’s kitchen yesterday, all the members of her staff as curious as the rest of Bloomhaven. The elder Lord and Lady Starspun hadn’t left Bloomhaven in years, deciding some time ago, like Rivenna, to make the town their permanent home. Their daughter now resided at their country estate, while their son had apparently found himself a love match on one of the most distant of the United Fae Isles and hadn’t returned to Bloomhaven in at least twenty years.
“Ah, but do you knowwhowas in that carriage?” Amarind said.
“Well, one assumes it’s their daughter. Here to visit her parents for the season, no doubt.”
Amarind’s smile grew positively feline. “Wrong. It’s their son.”
Rivenna pursed her lips before answering. “Unlikely. Errisen always did have adventure in his blood. He announced he wasn’t looking back after his debut season, and, so far, this has proven to be true.” And considering the scandal that had chased him out of Bloomhaven all those years ago, Rivenna didn’t blame him for not returning.
