Page 13 of Research with Rivals
Her bright green eyes blinked up at me. They were one of our few features that didn’t match. My eyes were dark brown, almost black like my hair.
Mom took her time pulling herself from whatever fantastical story she read. I got my love of books from her. She’d seldom been without one when I was a child. While her taste veered toward the fictitious and the happily-ever-after, as I grew older, mine gravitated toward history and fact.
Her button nose twitched as she took in the scent of stew at the table next to her. Then her bow-shaped lips curved into a smile. “Hi, honey. I thought we could eat our evening meal here when you finished working.”
“Sure. I just finished. Let me put in our order and tell Mina we’re staying.”
Once the task was complete, I returned to the table with Mom. “How was your day?”
She set the book aside and gave me her full attention, which she was almost religious about. We had a meal together whenever possible, and no distractions were accepted. “Oh, fine. A lot of visitors from Long Night are still in town. So we had a lot of customers browsing the book shop.”
The recent winter solstice holiday had been the busiest in Sandrin in my lifetime. Until recently, the continent had been plagued by a mist that left those caught within suspended in a sleeplike trance. Now that the fae court leaders had removedthe plague and restored those affected to their rightful state, the world seemed much more populated.
Mom bit the inside of her lip. “Not the visitor I guess I’m looking for, but…” She shrugged and trailed off. It was as if she handed me the conversation on a silver platter.
When I was younger, I wanted to believe Mom’s story about my father, but eventually, I’d decided to face facts: he’d left us, and he wasn’t coming back. The need to shift rippled beneath my skin. While I still didn’t particularly want to find him, my beast made things complicated. Plus, it would put to rest once and for all Mom’s ludicrous belief that he was coming back.
“Mom.”
She waved me off. “I don’t need a lecture tonight, honey. I know what you think about my hope.”
I sat up straighter in my chair. “Mom, I need to tell you something.”
“What is it?”
“I am competing for a promotion at work.”
“A promotion! Oh, sweetie, that’s incredible. You haven’t even been there that long. Congratulations.”
I ran my hand over my braid, suddenly feeling like Ambrose with how he always made his own hair untidy when he was uncomfortable. Why would I think of Ambrose now, of all times? I guessed he was my competition. I pushed the stray thought away and focused on Mom.
“Remember how we used to talk about moving to Compass Lake?”
It was a village nestled in the mountains. The very heart of fae politics, and the one place Mom and I had never belonged. I think that was why she’d suggested it. She had wanted so desperately for me to find peace with my fae side, maybe even more than she wanted my father to return.
She smiled a little sadly. “I remember. Your father always talked about the lake’s beauty. But what does that have to do with the promotion?”
“The position is Vesten historian. The historian works very closely with the Vesten Point, so those in the position can choose to live in Sandrin or Compass Lake Village.”
Mom looked thoughtful. “I would love to live there. But would you?”
She knew me too well, seeing things I thought no one did. Maybe I was only fooling myself that I hid them in the first place.
“I think I could do some good there.” I paused and pressed forward with the subject I needed to broach. “At the very least, it would give me access to the Vesten Court records.”
Mom’s face fell.
“It would give me access to find my father once and for all.”
She folded her arms over her chest. “Is that the only reason you want the promotion? To prove me wrong? To tell me I’ve been a fool all these years for waiting for him?”
“What? No. Mom. I need answers about my…” Something sizzled beneath my skin, and I cut myself off to focus on my deep breathing exercise.
Mom pressed, “Your shift?”
I nodded through an inhale but also hid a wince. Like with Luna and Seraphina, I only told Mom half of the story. For her, it was the more relevant part—the part with an opportunity to cause her pain, but still…
Why had I been able to spout my wants so freely to Ambrose this afternoon?
