Page 25 of Research with Rivals
Our home was simple, two bedrooms and a shared living space with the kitchen. We overlapped less than we’d like with our busy work schedules, but it also gave us both our privacy. I went into my room to change before leaving for the library.
More reluctantly than I’d ever admit, I removed the warm sweater. I stared at the candy he’d given me. Ambrose’s instructions on self-warming were simple. I was sure there had to be more to it.
I tried not to think too hard about how long I’d wanted one of these candies as I popped the red ball of sugar into my mouth. The snap of cinnamon on my tongue was a sweet zing, followed by an intense flare of heat. It built quickly, like the candy itself was a ball of flame instead of sugar. With Ambrose’s instruction in my head, I distributed the core of heat to my limbs. They warmed almost immediately.
Is this why no one else in the library was bothered by the chill?
Cheeks warm in embarrassment, I changed, wrote Mom a quick note, and left for the library. It was such a simple thing—likely something that every Vesten parent taught their child. I’d still been learning to call the magic on command when my father left. We hadn’t gotten to any of these more practical tricks. Embarrassment turned to a churning anger. This was yet another sin to lay at his feet. I pushed down the part of me that wanted so badly to have had someone to teach me these things. How did I end up at the mercy of Ambrose Yarrow for tips about Vesten magic?
He was still on my mind when I arrived at the library. The twinge was still there in my chest as I got to work. Today, I would learn all I could about the creation of the fae. I’d read a few texts on the matter, but I was sure the historian extraordinaire Ambrose Yarrow knew more.
If I were to impress Lord Arctos with the right questions about his project, I needed to know what to ask. I pulled a few history texts from the shelves to start with, but the restricted section of the library drew my attention. The best resources about the creation of the fae were there, but you needed special permission to access them. I clenched my jaw as I carried a stack of texts to my desk, sure Ambrose already knew the secrets that room held.
The library was still empty as I started reading. No matter how I tried to focus on the text, I couldn’t help but contemplate the sweater folded neatly and placed in the corner of my carrel.
It was as if that twisting spring inside me was momentarily released when I thought—or looked at—something that reminded me of Ambrose.
The longer we remained separated, the worse it got. Tension stretched across every part of me. I tried to make myself small to ward off the discomfort. Then the creak of the Great Room’s massive door signaled what my body seemed to already know. My breath released, dropping my shoulders from where they had crept up by my ears. I didn’t have to look up to know it was him. Ambrose had arrived.
This was a problem.
Ignoring it was my only plan. What was I supposed to do? Walk up to Ambrose and tell him I was obsessed with him? No. All other options felt unacceptable, so I ducked back into my carrel and kept reading.
“Eep!” I squeaked as something pressed down on my shoulder.
“Any updates?” That same unknowable voice spoke directly into my mind. The large black bird accompanied it: Lord Arctos.
“I’m reading about the creation of the fae.” I snuck a glance at him to see if he indicated this was a good idea or not. He didn’t. “Ambrose and I also discussed anchors last night. Are you familiar with the concept? What was the object you and the Vesten Point used when you tested the magic?”
“You and Ambrose, huh?”Lord Arctos’s wings flapped against the side of my face as his beak turned toward where Ambrose sat across the Great Room.
“It would help if you would tell us everything you know.”
“Now it’s us?”
I sighed. “This isn’t the part where we differentiate ourselves. This is still information you should have given us in the briefing.” I turned my head to glare at him.
He looked resolutely in the opposite direction.
Was I really challenging a god here?
His feathers flicked against my face again as he fidgeted in what I could only imagine was agitation. “You’re probably right.”
“Excuse me?”
My response was louder than the rest of the conversation. Ambrose’s head lifted, and our gazes locked across the room. The slight arch of his brow was his only response to the black bird perched on my shoulder. Then, before I could decide if it was a good thing or a bad thing, he pushed back his chair and strode toward us.
“Everything alright, Evelyn?” he asked, glancing briefly at the bird.
I nodded, uncomfortable with how my breath seemed to come easier with each step of his approach. That unfortunate piece of information would be relegated to the back of my mind for later. “Lord Arctos was about to explain himself.”
“You’re sure you want to share what I was about to tell you? He is the competition, after all.”His tone was pure mischief with a hint of mirth. It reminded me of a child who had put a thumb tack on an empty chair and was now waiting for me to sit on it.
Ambrose’s eyes widened, which I took to mean that the Vesten God was now speaking into both of our minds.
I shrugged. “You owe us what you know.”
“Fine. I’ll tell you how to learn more about the connection we’re asking you to break. You’re on the right track, Evelyn, reading about the creation of the fae, but you won’t find the information you need in that text.”
