Page 73 of Flowerheart

I didn’t know what to say. Where to begin.

She cleared her throat and clasped her hands together.“What brings you, then?” she asked softly. “Is—is everything all right? Or did your father hide that charm from you? I’d hoped you’d come here when you turned sixteen—”

“Why would Papa hide it from me?”

She huffed a sigh through her nose. “Albert always feared I’d be a bad influence on you.”

“Then I trust him in that.” I folded my arms, glaring back at her, even though there was nothing about her, on the surface, that should have drawn my hatred. She was small. Kind-eyed. She let me speak, and I could tell she was truly listening to me. I loathed the very idea of her, but I scarcely knew her well enough to make a judgment of any kind.

This thought deeply unsettled me.

Scuffing my boot back and forth against her wooden floors, I said, “Why did you want me to come see you when I turned sixteen?”

“There was something I wanted to tell you before you officially became a witch.” She shrugged. “I suppose it’s a little late for that, though, isn’t it? You’ll enter their ranks tomorrow night, won’t you?”

My heart skipped. I touched my chest, wincing at the lack of the familiar pain of my magic. Did she know that I no longer had any power?

She walked past me, waving a hand in my direction. “Though you’ll have to get used to their dreary uniforms. I’ve not seen a witch dressed in pink before.”

The tightness in my shoulders melted away. She didn’t know. “I—I’m not a witch yet. I’m not going to be inaugurated.”

Back in her kitchen, amid the countertops overflowing with jars and boxes, she looked up from a tall red bottle, her brows raised. “No? Why not? Who is your teacher?”

Shame burned my face. “I’ve had many. But, er, Xavier Morwyn is my teacher now.” In a softer voice, more to myself, I murmured, “Orwas,I suppose.”

Imogen’s eyes grew wide. She leaned across the counter as much as she could, through the forest of multicolored bottles. “AMorwyn? The Council’s favorite family. And one that is certainly not very fond of me... Why did they deign to takeyouon, then?”

Because he was my friend. Because he was desperate. BecauseIwas desperate. Because no one else could help me.

“Extenuating circumstances,” I said.

Imogen poured herself a glass of the amber-colored liquid and clucked her tongue. “You’re as tight-lipped as your papa. Though I suppose I can’t blame you. Given our ownextenuating circumstances.” She held the bottle towards me, as though I were only a few paces away instead of hiding by the potion shelves. “Do you want some?”

“What is it?” I peeped.

“Sherry.”

I thought of Madam Ben Ammar, who had warned mewhen I was young not to accept food or drink from magicians I did not know. Imogen was my mother. But I didn’t know her. I shook my head.

With a shrug, Imogen replaced the cork in the bottle. She carried her glass with her as she strode up to me.

She propped herself on the arm of the sofa in the sitting room of her shop. “Wait a minute—Xavier. He’s their son—the one about your age?”

“Yes.”

Recognition lit up her brown eyes. “Ah. Rumor has it, he’s the one who made Euphoria.” She cocked her head to one side. “I heard the Council took away his powers for making it. Is that true?”

A rush of ice sluiced through my veins. “They intend to.”

Still clinging to her glass of sherry, she pointed to me. “That’s what I wished to discuss with you. I want you to know that, when the time comes, you don’t have to obey the Council.”

I furrowed my brow. Even if I had my magic, the only way I could practice was if I was licensed a witch by the Council. If I followed their laws. “I don’t understand.”

“There is another path. The Council’s way is all rules and roadblocks, fencing in magic and trying to control it. Magic isn’t good or bad, right or wrong. It justis.” She sipped her drink and muttered, “Unfortunately, not everyone sees things this way.”

My insides twisted. “Is that why you left us?” I asked. “Because Papa doesn’t see magic like you do?”

The intensity and confidence that made her eyes gleam faded away like a painting under too much sun. “I... I wanted to practice magic that your father didn’t approve of. He didn’t like that it could get us all in trouble.”

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