Page 32 of Research with Rivals
Ambrose blinked slowly as I spoke.
“The loophole is a good idea. I take full responsibility for the mistake. I’ll start work on this immediately and have more ideas first thing in the morning.”
I didn’t wait for a response. The coins ready in my palm clanged onto the table as I dropped them and turned to flee the tavern.
12
Ambrose
“Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.”
I punctuated each word with the beat of my forehead against the bar top. Vincent sat next to me and patted my shoulder while Luna’s brow furrowed with concern. The rest of the tavern’s patrons carried on around us at a dull roar, not having witnessed my colossal failure with Evelyn.
It had gone so much worse than I could have imagined.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Vincent asked.
I hadn’t wanted to talk about it when I sat down next to him and ordered another drink. I didn’t really want to talk about it now, but the way Seraphina was side-eyeing me from behind the bar told me my time bemoaning my current predicament was almost up.
The full glass of ale was cool in my hand. I held it against my forehead as I considered what to say. Except for Vincent, these were Evelyn’s friends. I wasn’t sure how much I should tell them.
“We already know you’re competing for the position of Vesten historian.” Luna must have suspected my hesitation.
That, unfortunately, hadn’t crossed my mind at all this morning, which was a different problem. One that I did not have the mental capacity for at the moment.
Seraphina and Luna were protective of Evelyn. I’d seen it multiple times. Most recently in the way they’d attempted to assess what was bothering her. Evelyn might have left without answering their questions, but there was no way she’d make it more than a day without telling them what was going on. They appeared ready to hunt her down if necessary. That idea gave me some sense of relief as I spilled our shared secret.
“Evelyn and I accidentally bound ourselves together using blood magic.”
Vincent spat the drink of his Solstice Sip he’d just taken. His eyes widened as he turned to me. “You what?”
Luna rubbed his shoulder, but behind the bar, Seraphina looked contemplative. She reached for a rag and began wiping down the already pristine counter as if to find something to do with her hands.
“What does that mean?” she asked.
“It means I can feel her absence right now.” And I could. There was a distinctly uncomfortable pressure in my chest that had begun the moment she walked out the door. “It means being apart is a strain on each of us in its own way. It means we have to work together to find a way to either break the magic, which I’m not sure has ever been done, or circumvent it, like we did with Luna’s inn.”
Three sets of eyes stared at me. I couldn’t bring myself to meet any of them.
Vincent was the first to clear his throat. His words were hesitant; he was likely unsure of their reception by the femalesaround us. “Isn’t this … exactly the kind of excuse you were looking for to work together again?”
He looked sheepish even mentioning it.
My hands were waving emphatically before I could think about how loud I was. “I did not magically bind us together so that I could spend more time with her! That is the epitome of recklessness.”
Seraphina’s hands were on her hips now. “What you seem to accuse her of quite frequently.”
I did do that. And I could admit that I had been no less reckless than she was with this. My real failure wasn’t that we were bound together, or that my best friend seemed to think I’d done it on purpose because I needed an excuse to spend time with my colleague who hated me. No, my real sin here was that I’d let her think it was all her fault.
It wasn’t.
Vincent apologized to Luna. “No, of course, I don’t think he’d do it on purpose to try and trap Evelyn. That’s not what I meant. I was just saying he could make lemons out of lemonade.”
“From the way she stormed out of here, it doesn’t seem like Evelyn wants to work with him on this at all.” Seraphina tossed the rag into the sink behind the bar and folded her arms across her chest.
My head hung. I needed to say something. I needed to do something. It was so distracting to have this emptiness—this awareness—pulsing in my chest. It was teetering on the edge of pain. That couldn’t be a good sign.
“She doesn’t have all the information. I have to tell her what I know, then she can make a more informed choice on whether she wants help.”
