Relief washed over both their faces, followed by surprised gratitude.
“Mother was looking for you,” Evryn added to Kazrian. “I’ll tell her you’re …assisting with kitchen matters.”
“Much appreciated,” Kazrian replied.
“But perhaps don’t spend too long in here. She’ll likely come looking for you herself at some point.”
“Noted.”
Returning to the main room, he found Mariselle was now gone from the Rowanwoods’ table as well. His eyes scanned the room for her, and a sudden pang of alarm tightened his chest when he spotted her on the far side—cornered by his grandmother.
Mariselle should have remained at the Rowanwoods’ table where it was safe.
Instead, she’d noticed the dancing flames that Rosavyn and Iris were attempting to subdue near the ceiling and had risen instinctively to offer her assistance. The blaze was modest in size, but her natural inclination to help had overridden her better judgment.
Once the mischievous fire had been properly extinguished, rather than returning directly to the relative sanctuary of her seat, Mariselle found herselfdrawn toward the opposite side of the tea house, captivated by its enchanting decor.
A suspended silver teapot captured her attention, elegantly enchanted to display the time in luminescent numerals that rippled across its burnished surface. She circled it with quiet appreciation, admiring how the craftsmanship revealed itself differently from each angle. So thoroughly absorbed was she in this examination that when she finally turned away, she nearly collided with Lady Rivenna’s imposing figure
“Lady Mariselle Brightcrest,” the Rowanwood matriarch said, her voice cool as winter frost yet carefully modulated to avoid drawing attention. “You have remarkable audacity, returning to my establishment.”
Mariselle’s stomach tightened, but she dropped into a brief, perfectly executed curtsy before straightening and lifting her chin slightly. “Lady Rowanwood. Good evening.”
“Was your previous visit not sufficient?” Lady Rivenna’s eyes narrowed. “I believe I made my sentiments regarding your presence here quite clear then.”
“You did,” Mariselle acknowledged, maintaining her composure despite the flutter of nerves in her chest.
“Yet here you stand,” Lady Rivenna continued, “in my tea house once more. The question that presents itself, rather insistently, iswhy.”
Around them, the evening continued in pleasant ignorance of their tense exchange—laughter from a nearby table, the delicate melody of porcelain against porcelain, the faint rustle of leaves as they moved against the walls.
“I was invited,” Mariselle said simply, exactly as she’d said during her first visit. “By your grandson.”
“Most likely because you enchanted him to do so,” Lady Rivenna muttered. Then her voice took on a sharper edge. “What precisely do you want, Lady Mariselle? What is your aim in inserting yourself into my family’s affairs?”
“Tonight? I merely wished to witness your renowned tea leaf reading event firsthand, having heard such remarkable accounts of the event.”
Lady Rivenna leaned closer, her voice becoming an icy hiss.“What. Do you. Want?”
“I want to be you!” The words burst from Mariselle before she could contain them, startling them both equally.
Lady Rivenna blinked, momentarily robbed of her usual poise. “What?”
Mariselle felt heat rising to her cheeks. “That is—I want to belikeyou,” she amended hastily, the words tumbling out in an uncharacteristic rush. “You’ve built something remarkable here. This tea house. Your place in society. The respect you command. Everyone in Bloomhaven speaks your name with reverence.”
Lady Rivenna regarded her with an expression Mariselle couldn’t quite decipher—suspicion mingled with something that might almost have been surprise. “You wish to emulateme?” she asked finally, studying Mariselle’s face as though searching for signs of deception. “A Brightcrest, admiring a Rowanwood?”
“I admire achievement,” Mariselle replied, steadier now. “And strength. And the ability to create something lasting, something that brings joy to others. Why wouldn’t I admire that? Why wouldn’t I aspire to achieve something similar one day?”
Lady Rivenna gave her a look that suggested she thought Mariselle entirely incapable of achieving anything close to the legacy she had so meticulously crafted over decades of dedication and sacrifice. After several more moments’ pause, she drew herself up. “Well. That is … unexpected. Though I remain unconvinced of your sincerity.”
“That’s fair,” Mariselle conceded. “Regardless, the tea leaf reading was excellent fun. I’ve never experienced anything quite like it. Fascinating, truly. Thank you.” She offered another polite curtsy.
Lady Rivenna merely watched her, eyes narrowed, saying nothing.
Mariselle turned, exhaling a shuddery breath, and found Evryn heading toward her. She met him halfway to the Rowanwoods’ table.
“Are you all right?” he asked, his eyes darting briefly over her shoulder. “I saw you with my grandmother and feared the worst.”
