Page 29 of Changelings
Imogen’s flush and embarrassment lasted well beyond the farm’s boundaries, and she was still grumbling to herself about Gilda’s rudeness as she opened the gate to the upper pasture near the farmhouse.
“It’s rude to insinuate,” she told Shadow. “It’s not like he and I are—”
“Gennyyyyyy!”
Shadow’s ears swiveled backwards and Imogen groaned at the sound of the nickname she hated. Shutting the gate, she turned and had just enough time to brace before Neomi’s arms were around her, drawing her into a back-cracking embrace.
Imogen patted Neomi’s back as her sister rocked them back and forth, cooing and gushing about how happy she was to see her.
Finally, Neomi stepped back, holding Imogen’s shoulders. “I’ve beendyingto see you! I’ve waited at the window every day hoping you’d come with news!”
The road goes in both directions.Being one of the few people who knew where Imogen lived, Neomi was perfectly capable of coming to visit and get the news herself rather than waiting for Imogen to come to her.
Imogen bit her cheek. That was unkind. She wasn’t grumpy with Neomi but Gilda.
“So you’ve heard something about Balar.”
Neomi squeezed her shoulders. “Genny,everyone’sheard about that manticore asking around for you.”
That bit of news made Imogen’s insides squirm strangely. At a loss for what to say, she let Neomi usher her into the farmhouse kitchen.
It was much as their mother had kept it, copper pots and pans hanging above the great oven. Sprigs of lavender and thyme, as well as wild onion and strings of garlic, hanging to dry from the rafters. It looked like Neomi had run from the house in the middle of chopping vegetables for dinner, the worktable littered with chunks of carrot, celery, and mushroom.
Neomi must have recently oiled the furniture and cabinets, too, for although everything was battered and well-loved, the warm wood almost glowed in the late-morning light. The hardwood floor was immaculate, the kitchen table set neatly with their mother’s lace linens, and little vases dotted the windowsills and countertops, full of late-season wildflowers to add pops of color.
Her sister had always been an excellent homemaker, preferring to help their mother with the domestic work while Imogen helped their father with the animals and crops. Although, ever since marrying Collin, Neomi had seemed…especially fervent about keeping a clean, orderly house.
“I want to be a good wife,”she’d say whenever Imogen noted the spotlessness of the house.
Imogen could only nod. Their mother was a good wife and mother, but there had still been the occasional cobweb and dust bunny.
Would Balar expect such things from a wife? What do manticore kigara do?
The thought popped into her head without permission and damn it all if Neomi didn’t see the change in her. Lighting up, her sister pushed her into a chair.
Sitting across from her, Neomi insisted, “Tell meeverything.”
And much to Imogen’s chagrin, she did. She meant to approach this with a little tact, but something about being in her family home, sitting with her sister, the last of her kin, made her go soft. She told Neomi everything, from finding Balar passed out on her land all the way to fishing yesterday and what he’d said by the fire.
Neomi sighed dreamily. “He soundslovely. And he’s right, you know. I’m glad someone said it—your birthmark is just a mark. Part of you. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Imogen sat back in her seat with a noncommittal hum. Neomiwouldsay that. She’d been saying something similar since they were youths.
The thing was, Neomi was beautiful, inside and out. Always had been. With clear, peachy skin, auburn-brown curls, and bright blue eyes, she was the type of beautiful country maiden that the stories said could capture the heart of a knight or prince.
But she settled for Collin. Ugh.
Not letting her get away, Neomi reached across the table to snag Imogen’s hands. “He seems toreallylike you, Genny! What do you intend to do?”
Swallowing hard, Imogen’s gaze fell to the floor. “I don’t know. It’s…sudden.”
“Well, sure. But that’s not bad, right? Sometimes things justhappen. That doesn’t make them bad. And really, how else were you going to meet someone?” Neomi laughed at her own joke, and Imogen tried to grin, too.
“It’s a lot to wrap my mind around, I suppose,” she admitted. “I don’tdislikehim.”
“Well, that’s something,” Neomi giggled. “This isgoodfor you, Gen, trust me. You need the company.”
“I have Shadow. He’s family.”
