Page 55 of Invidia

Right above the sitting area was a circular window in the roof, made up of glass panels in a decorative pattern. But what made it truly spectacular was the ledge below it, which housed shimmering pots of vines, with fine string crisscrossing beneath the glass for them to grow along. The swirling sky was only just visible through bright gaps in the leafy foliage, lending what could have felt like an overly exposed space a very cozy feel.

“It’s so striking,” I murmured, stepping away from Evrin’s hold to explore the small but functional kitchen just off the entrance, with low beams that would have absolutely caused chaos for someone with horns.

There was a bathroom—with hot water from an underground spring—and three small bedrooms dotted around the outside of the central living area. The back of the cottage opened up to a stone patio that overlooked the churning black ocean at the base of the cliff. It was incredible. Like something out of a dream.

“It’s not perfect,” Evrin said worriedly. “But it is liveable. And has potential.”

“Very liveable,” I agreed, running my fingers over the disintegrating curtains. My days of sewing drapes apparently weren’t over, but I was feeling a lot more confident in my skills now, at least.

“Do you like it?” Evrin asked, leaning against the doorway, looking fucking delicious. “It’s okay if you don’t. We can keep looking.”

“I love it, but are you sure about this?” I felt my face heat. “I don’t have a job. I should get a job.”

“I can comfortably afford this,” he assured me. “I’ve been living in the barracks for free for years, and the low beams make these cottages not particularly appealing for Shade buyers. They’re very inexpensive.”

“But they’re perfect, magical, fairytale cottages!” I objected. If I had horns, I’d just crouch. Or wear squishy little horn toppers so I didn’t impale myself on the beams. This house was worth the inconvenience.

Evrin laughed out loud at that. “Perfect for us, perhaps. Do you want to live here with me, Tallulah? You don’t have to right away, of course,” he added hastily. “Regardless, I am more than ready to get out of the barracks.”

I bit my lip, trying to hide my smile, but Evrin didn’t let me. He carefully gripped my chin, tugging my lip free of my teeth until he got the full, cheesy grin I’d been trying to disguise—with a side of borderline hysterical giggles to boot.

“Yes, I want that.”

“Then I’m going to make that happen.”

How was I meant to manage expectations when I was already falling in love with him?

Chapter 19

Istill felt like I was floating as Evrin dropped me back at Elverston House. There was a teeny little insecure part of me that was struggling to let myself believe that this was actually going to happen. It seemed like it was. Evrin had sounded genuinely enthusiastic, and not in a false-hope kind of way, but in a I’m-going-to-make-this-happen kind of way.

A fairytale home by the sea with someone I was genuinely catching feelings for was everything I’d ever wanted, and that was what made it so terrifying. It was in my grasp now. It would hurt so much more if it was taken away.

“Tallulah!” Sebastian yelled, spotting me in the entryway. “Come party with us. We’re playing truth or dare!”

I stopped in surprise in front of the archway, finding almost the whole crew assembled in the living room. Verity held up a goblet in cheers from where she was perched on the couch next to a beaming Cora, while Ophelia was kneeling on the floor in front of the coffee table, slicing cheese. Sebastian and Lochan were side by side on the smaller chaise, looking far more relaxed than they usually did with full wine goblets in their hands. Only Austin wasn’t here.

Astrid was overlooking the whole scene from a spot in the corner, arms crossed over her chest and expression impassive. I had absolutely no doubt that she’d been the one to organize this, perhaps hoping that a little social lubricant and a party atmosphere would loosen lips.

“Sit down, so I can dare you to tell us all about this new boyfriend of yours,” Verity said with a mischievous grin.

“I will, but where’s Meera?” I asked, scanning the room again.

“She wasn’t feeling well,” Ophelia replied, glancing sympathetically at the floor above us where the bedrooms were.

“Oh no! I’ll be back soon. I just want to go make sure she’s okay,” I said, making a hasty exit. The wine had clearly been flowing, and I needed a few minutes to brace myself before even attempting to engage with that.

While it wasn’t exactly unusual for Meera to not be in the thick of a larger crowd, she didn’t usually avoid social gatherings entirely, so I assumed she really was feeling bad. I knocked lightly on her door, not wanting to disturb her if she was asleep.

“Meera? It’s Tallulah.”

“Come in.”

I let myself in, finding Meera curled up in the fetal position in the middle of her bed, blankets pulled all the way up to her chin.

“Are you okay? What do you need? Tea?”

“I’m okay,” she mumbled, eyes still closed. “My uterus is trying to kill me, and my clothes feel weird, and my hair is frizzy, and I want cinnamon donuts. But I’m fine.”

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