Something flickered in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could respond, the butler returned with her gloves, and the moment passed.
“I wonder how you’ll fare when it’s your turn to visit my family,” Mariselle said, tugging her gloves on. “That should prove interesting.”
Evryn’s brows shot up. “My turn?”
She stifled a groan but kept her smile firmly in place, mindful of Tilly and the butler still close by. “My birthday dinner two weeks hence,” she explained. “Mother will put on her usual show of organizing a simple family gathering, and it occurs to me now that it would look rather odd if my supposed beloved didn’t attend.”
“Your birthday?” Evryn blinked in surprise. “I had no idea.”
“A formal invitation will be delivered soon,” she said, then added in an overly bright and entirely fake tone, “Something to look forward to!”
The journey home passed in contemplative silence, with Tilly occasionally glancing at her mistress but seeming to understand that Mariselle needed the sanctuary of her own thoughts. She stared out the carriage window, her mind a tumult of conflicting emotions.
The Rowanwoods had been nothing like what she’d been raised to expect. There had been no coldly calculating plots, no obvious magical manipulations, no evidence of the heartless ambition her parents had always attributed to them. Instead, she’d witnessed warmth, genuine affection, and the kind of easy family dynamic she hadn’t been aware was even possible.
Had it all been an elaborate performance for her benefit? She didn’t think so. The siblings’ interactions had felt too natural, too unguarded to be mere theater. And what would the point have been in a performance like that? No, it had to have been genuine.
The thought was mildly terrifying, for if the Rowanwoods were not as she had been taught, what else might be untrue?
A deep, aching sadness settled over her. Whether genuine or not, the Rowanwoods’ family dynamic had shown her everything that was lacking in her own. The contrast between their easy affection and the cold formality of Brightcrest Manor had never been more stark.
And regardless of how enjoyable the afternoon had been, the fact remained: this was all temporary. She would never truly be part of their family. Once Dreamland was restored and the magical contract fulfilled, the charade would end. Evryn would return to his life, she to hers, and this brief glimpse of what family could be would fade into distant memory.
But she refused to surrender to such melancholy. Once Dreamland stood restored—her vision made manifest, her true abilities finally revealed—everything would change. Her parents would see her, truly see her, for perhaps the first time. She harbored no illusions that they would transform into the warm, affectionate family she’d glimpsed today; that fantasy was too far-fetched even for her dreamer’s heart. But there would be respect where now there was only dismissal. Recognition where now there was only oversight. Things would be different. They would bebetter.
And that had always been the true purpose behind this desperate gamble.
Chapter Sixteen
Mariselle’sfirst drowsy thought upon waking the following morning was that someone had apparently replaced her silk pillowcase with something that looked remarkably like the Brightcrest family banner—until she realized with mounting horror that the brilliant blue fabric cascading across her pillow was, in fact, attached to her head.
She shot upright, yanking a lock of hair before her eyes. The azure blue strand dangled between her fingers like a vivid declaration of magical mischief.
“Evryn Rowanwood,”she hissed, her voice a venomous whisper. The bracelet. That wretched, beautiful,enchantedbracelet he had presented her with yesterday afternoon. She’d only worn it while at Rowanwood House and in the carriage ride home, but clearly that had been long enough.
Mariselle scrambled from her bed and flew to her vanity, where the looking glass confirmed her worst suspicions. Her hair—her glorious honey-gold hair that had been the envy of half the young ladies in Bloomhaven—now resembled the sky above a cerulean sea.
“Oh, my lady!” Tilly gasped as she entered with a tray bearing Mariselle’s morning tea, nearly dropping it at the sight of her mistress. “Whatever has happened toyour?—”
“It appears,” Mariselle said with deadly calm, “that my betrothed possesses a rather juvenile sense of humor.”
“Your … do you mean Lord Rowanwood? But he is so devoted to you, my lady.”
Mariselle silently cursed her careless tongue. There in a single unguarded moment, she’d nearly unraveled all her careful pretense. She composed her features into a mask of fond exasperation and released a tinkling laugh that she hoped disguised her momentary panic.
“Oh, forgive my temper, Tilly. What I meant is that this was an unfortunate accident. Lord Rowanwood presented me with the most exquisite silver bracelet yesterday, set with sapphires that match precisely this … unexpected hue. He acquired it at Vesper’s Curiosities & Oddities.” She sighed dramatically. “It seems even a man of his considerable magical knowledge can occasionally miss an enchantment hiding in plain sight. Rather endearing, really, that he was so eager to please me he didn’t think to check for lingering spells.”
Tilly approached cautiously. “Is it … all of it, my lady?”
Mariselle turned her head side to side, examining the damage. “Every last strand,” she confirmed, running her fingers through the transformed locks that now shimmered blue instead of golden blonde.
“Shall I inform your mother?” Tilly asked, setting down the tray.
“And subject myself to her hysterical lamentations before I’ve even had my tea? I think not.” Mariselle sank into her chair. “Tell her I’m indisposed. A headache, perhaps.”
“Very good, my lady.” Tilly bobbed a curtsy. “And what shall we do about …” She gestured vaguely toward Mariselle’s head.
Mariselle tilted her head, studying her reflection. The blue was striking, almost a perfect match for her eyes. Evryn had been right about that. No doubt he’d meant to embarrass her with what was commonly known as a ‘matron’s enchantment.’ The more venerable ladies of society often took to magically coloring their hair in their twilight years. Lady Whispermist’s famous lavender coiffure had been the talk of Bloomhaven for nearly a decade, and there was the elder Lady Bridgemere, who had been sporting a vivid sunset coral for the last several Seasons.
