His question was hesitant. One, I wasn’t sure how much had to do with the magic between us versus our history of … how had he phrased it? Consistently misunderstanding each other. I didn’t plan to share more than was necessary. I could tell him about my time at the Sandrin Records Office and some of the work I’d done there. Hopefully, that would soothe the magic between us.
It would be fine. I wasn’t sure if I nodded to him or myself, but with it, we sealed our new approach.
18
Ambrose
Evelyn and I arrived at Parkview Tavern early. She’d agreed to my plan more easily than I anticipated, and that left me optimistic about its outcome. The blood magic wanted us to grow together, or for us to understand each other better. Either intent led to the same result: we needed to talk about ourselves without fighting about work if we hoped for the magic to release.
Though I had high hopes for the plan, when I pulled open the heavy wooden door, it felt like I was walking to my own execution. Seraphina stood behind the bar and crossed her arms over her chest as Evelyn and I entered. Clearly, she was still unsatisfied with my answers yesterday about our predicament.
We didn’t even pretend at the privacy of a table in the corner this time. Evelyn marched us straight to the end of the bar and two open stools.
Seraphina’s smile for Evelyn was warm, at least. “Everything alright? I didn’t expect to see you tonight.”
Evelyn nodded. “We’re having a meal with Lord Arctos in a little bit. We came early to talk.”
The fierce bartender’s hands were on her hips in a moment. “That’s what you said yesterday. Then you snuck out, upset.”
It was as if an entirely different Evelyn appeared in that moment. She looked almost sheepish, an expression that, to me, seemed thoroughly foreign on her face. “I’m sorry, Seraphina. I needed to get out in a hurry.”
Seraphina didn’t hide her dismissive glance at me. “Need me to get rid of him?”
I let out a shaky breath as Evelyn’s lip tipped into an almost-smile. “Not yet.”
“Keep me posted,” Seraphina said, turning toward the bottles behind her. “Two ales?”
Seraphina couldn’t see Evelyn’s nod with her back turned, but the owner appeared to take the lack of protest as acceptance and poured each of us a glass. As she slid mine into my hands, she gave me a final glare. She pointed to her usual perch just a few steps away. “I’ll be watching from right over there.”
I swallowed, more intimidated than I cared to admit.
“So…” Evelyn turned on her stool to face me. “What should we talk about?”
At least this question was something I’d considered. I retrieved my notebook to look at the list.
“You wrote down what we should learn about each other?” she asked.
I couldn’t tell if she was in awe of the preparation or embarrassed by it. “I thought about every time you seemed angry at me after a conversation. Those seem like good places to start for understanding each other better.”
“You don’t think you could have just been an ass in that conversation? There has to be a deeper meaning to it?”
I laughed. “It’s entirely possible that I was. In that case, I’d like to understand for future interactions.”
She looked … contemplative. I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad sign, but I pressed forward.
“How about the day we met?” We might as well start at the beginning.
“What was wrong with that?” She took a sip of her drink.
“You walked away in what some would consider the middle of a conversation.” I paused.
She sighed, looking down into her glass as if deciding whether or not this approach was worth it. The way she rubbed her sternum made me wonder how the discomfort from the magic affected her. In the end, she pushed her shoulders back and continued. “I … I had wanted to meet you since I read one of your papers. And there you were, admitting you knew who I was, too.” She paused. “I thought I finally had someone to speak with about blood magic, someone who would care more about the research than … the rest”—she waved her hand to illustrate the complexity and unfairness of fae society—“and the first thing you can think to ask is why I worked in the Records Office. As if I would work there if I had any other choice.”
I was sure my ears were bright pink by now. “I’m sorry, Evelyn.” The list in my notebook seemed irrelevant if this was the foot on which we’d started our entire relationship. She’d wanted me as a colleague, and I’d made her feel less than—just like everyone else.
My stomach churned, but I knew we needed to do this, not only for the magic.
“Before I even knew who you were, at the circulation desk, I already knew you were the most intelligent person I had ever met. When I realized who you actually were, someone whose every word I had read, it just didn’t make sense.” I took a long sip of my ale. “I assumed you would be one of the most sought-afterresearchers, and I know my ignorance only reinforced a lifetime of prejudice you have dealt with. All I can say is that I will do better in the future.”
