Page 93 of Research with Rivals
“Beyond the veil,” Evelyn said before he could. “That’s what he was trying to tell me. He has commitments beyond the veil, and he can’t be in both places at once.”
He nodded.
“Do I get a choice?” Evelyn asked.
Carter smirked. “Only you can answer that. The call of the Vesten Point position is a real thing. But if anyone could fight it, it would probably be you.”
I tended to agree with that assessment. Resisting the call of court leadership was unheard of in Vesten history. But I remembered how hard she had fought her veil cat—how long she had gone in between shifts with no control. Evelyn could do anything she put her mind to.
“Would you want to fight it?” he asked when she didn’t respond. With a quick glance at his father, he continued. “Father believes that your aim with the historian position was to elevate half-fae in our society, starting at the heart of the courts. I think you could accomplish your aims much better as the Vesten Point.”
She bit the inside of her lip. “What about my research?”
Carter looked like he understood that question all too well. “It’s a different kind of research, but a no less important use of your skills. You have to understand history and magic to be able to guide our people in a new direction.”
The way he saidour peoplewith no hesitation warmed me to him immediately. I had believed Carter was different, of course. Gabriel was the most empathetic fae I knew. But to hear the leader of the Vesten so openly include half-fae in his statement meant we were already on the right track.
With Evelyn at the helm, we’d be unstoppable.
She seemed to accept his answer. “What about the historian position?” she asked.
Carter laughed. “I’ll let you fill it as your first act as successor.”
Her lip tilted dangerously, and she turned to me. This was all going too fast. Evelyn would be the next Vesten Point? Did that mean she would move to Compass Lake? Of course she’d have to, that was where her duties would be. Would she askme to come with her? And now she was responsible for filling the position of Vesten historian? How would she choose? What qualifications would she look for?
“Ambrose, will you accept the position?”
The current Vesten Point seemed to believe my response was a technicality he did not need to witness. “We’ll leave you two to talk. I’ll return to Compass Lake tomorrow. I want to talk to you again before I leave.”
She nodded but called after Lord Arctos’s retreating form, “How long have you known?”
He laughed and didn’t look back at her as he replied. “Since the first time you told me to go away. Only a Compass Point could be so disrespectful.”
Then they were gone, and Evelyn and I stared at each other in the restricted section. My mind looped through all the ways our lives had changed in what felt like moments.
Evelyn was to be Vesten Point.
That voice in my brain that always urged caution spoke softly. Did she really want me as Vesten historian? Her life had changed so rapidly. I didn’t want her to think… “Evelyn, you don’t owe me?—”
“I would never ask you to be historian because I thought I owed you something.” Her eyes narrowed. “I respect the position too much for that.”
My lip tugged into a half smile. “The position, not me?”
She waved her hands in the air, likely at her wits’ end. “Both!”
I discovered new pieces of Evelyn Knowles every day. Once, I’d watched her conduct an experiment that entailed trying to get a blueberry plant to grow. She’d been determined to use magic to ensure that there was enough food for everyone, even if growing cycles were disrupted. I’d known she considered it a stressful project; there were many newly awakened on the continent, and the food supply wasn’t entirely ready for thesurplus. Even then, though, her hands had been steady, her brow only slightly scrunched. She’d shown nearly no signs of the pressure she was under.
Now she did.
She paced the restricted section. Her hair had been carefully plaited when the meeting started. Every pass back and forth across the room had her tugging another strand free. She was unraveling before my eyes.
I found her strikingly beautiful as she showed me more of the real her. Usually, her movements were too practiced. I didn’t like to consider it, but she clearly experienced stress reactions often, and was skilled at hiding them. But now, she was showing me without a second thought—and it was that knowledge that made me secure in her offer of the historian position.
This was my first peek behind the curtain, an offering of trust she handed only to me. And I was intoxicated by it.
No amount of Evelyn would be enough. This addiction I had to her would only grow, never reaching its peak. Anything she asked me to give her, I would.
So, I did what I did best. I pulled out my pencil and notebook and said, “Maybe we should take some notes on this particular situation.”
