Page 17 of Research with Rivals
Luna and Seraphina always teased me about not following popular culture. I guessed this was my lesson.
What did it mean? If the animals were hereditary, was I related to the Vesten Point?
Luna’s comment that I should talk to Gabriel was looking less and less foolish with this new information. I dismissed the idea again. If I told Gabriel, he would tell Carter, and I could not risk looking like an idiot in front of the male who would decide my fate with the Vesten historian position. I didn’t even know how to control my shift, for gods’ sakes. As an adult Vesten, it was embarrassing.
I flipped the page in the journal more aggressively than intended. What was I looking for? Lord Arctos treating this whole thing like a game wasn’t helping. There was so much to learn from these pages detailing the sisters’ blood magic experiments. Still, other than the revelation we’d made with Lord Arctos, I wasn’t sure this text would help hypothesize how to break the connection between a Compass Point and a god. It talked only of how connections were formed without explicitly spoken intent, not how to unform them.
The paper Ambrose had asked me to read yesterday was still on my desk. I had read it once last night. Unfortunately, it was worth another read. If Ambrose’s hypothesis was correct, if an anchor held part of the magic, destroying the anchor could destroy the magic. Lord Arctos had referenced an “object of importance” in the test he’d done with Carter, but was that object also part of the original connection being forged? I pulled Ambrose’s paper toward me to read it once more. It was something to go on, at least.
Hours later, I startled as a wrapped sandwich fell onto the corner of my desk. Blinking, I glanced up at Ambrose, his sleeves rolled back and forearms on display as he leaned over my carrel. “That bell, we discussed?”
The way his lip twitched felt … playful. A shiver ran down my spine.
I wasn’t sure what to make of that, so I picked up the rolled sandwich and sniffed. “What’s this?”
“A veggie sandwich. It’s past time for an evening meal. I figured you were hungry.” He held a second one in his hand.
Too many thoughts crossed my mind at once. How did he know what I liked on my sandwich? Did he want to … eat together?
His words were factual, like so much of what Ambrose said to me, but I could sense something beneath them. I tilted my head, unsure if I was evaluating him or the food.
Mom had been correct. Ambrose was handsome, in a completely unexpected way. While he had all the usual traits of a researcher, never without his vest or a notepad, the rest of him didn’t fit the stereotype. He followed rules—he didn’t like risk—but there was some small sliver of him that waswild. It was increasingly visible in the gold of his irises. I guessed that wasn’t so odd for a Vesten. It was likely the animal beneath the surface.
He was my competition, though, no matter how intriguing I found him. Sharing a meal would be a mistake. He’d dismissed my stupid slip about wanting the position yesterday. Hadn’t he? His friends had all but shouted that a half-fae would never be the Vesten historian.
Luna and Seraphina’s words crossed my mind.Maybe let Ambrose speak for himself.All he had said in response to my slip was, “I see.” His friends had said stupid things, but that wasn’t new. It was almost common. At the very least, if I asked him to sit, I could confirm my understanding of anchors.
Perhaps a meal together wouldn’t be so bad.
He couldn’t very well stand there, leaning over the carrel while I ate. Though I was convinced I would regret this at some point, I stood and walked around the corner to the closet.
“Evelyn … did I?—”
I pulled out the hidden chair and brought it to Ambrose.
“What is this?”
It occurred to me then that I hadn’t confirmed his amiability to my idea before making this gesture. “Would you like to sit?” I pointed to the sandwiches. “And eat?”
My voice sounded less certain than usual, and my second skin was twitching to be free. Discomfort coated my every move, but I was far too committed to back out.
Maybe he would say no.
He arched a brow, then took a seat quickly, like maybe he feared I’d snatch it away. Instead of sliding it into place in the carrel across from mine, he pulled it right up to the corner of my desk. “I’ve been looking for this chair.”
I cleared my throat. “You can never tell where the maid is going to stash it.”
He glanced up, studying me. “Indeed.”
His lip twitched, and I knew he didn’t believe me, but there was nothing I could do about that now. I needed to know how we were both meant to use my desk as a table. Ambrose regarded me and my empty chair, and I knew I must look ridiculous. But he was so tall, so broad, I wasn’t sure there was space for us both crowded around my favorite study carrel.
My attention drifted to the flowers in the pot as I took a seat. I wasn’t sure their bind had worked yet, but they looked good together. While there was still a chance for the morning glory to dominate the pot, I thought this was promising—an unlikely pair, growing together, sharing too small a space. The metaphor felt too apt, but I decided Ambrose and I could do the same—at least for the duration of this meal.
“Thank you,” I said as I picked up the sandwich again.
He only grunted as he unwrapped his own and took a large bite.
“What do you think of the information Lord Arctos shared?”
