Chapter Seventeen Wren
Chapter Seventeen
Wren
If a gift is lost, it can be used by another. The Fates are adamant that only the deserving keep their gifts close to their hearts.
—Aurilian History of Magical Objects, Chapter Seventeen
Mother allowed Callie to select my gown that evening.
My older sister stood behind me at the vanity brushing my blond waves.
She tsked whenever she struck a tangle. She stayed quiet, likely waiting for me to initiate the conversation.
These past weeks had been challenging, and Callie, thanks to her gift, had a tendency to understand when to prod and when to leave well enough alone.
Judging by her harsh strokes, she struggled to keep her thoughts tethered.
“Callie?” I finally called, my throat like sandpaper.
A flare of warmth entered me like the heat of the sun on a summer’s day. Her magic. Sometimes when she wasn’t paying attention, it seeped out of her. Right now, elation filled the room.
“Yes?” she asked, meeting my eyes in the oval mirror before us. Hers gleamed.
I couldn’t recall the last time we had an interlude to ourselves like this, and I missed her.
“Does Father ever go to the Registry of Magical Gifts when you accompany him to work?”
The corners of her mouth turned down, and the warmth I’d felt earlier vanished. “Why would we go there? Father deals with the law, not gifts.” She continued with my hair, her nimble fingers working the strands into some half-up, half-down design.
I had to ask. Had to know if Callie was aware of the missing people. If she knew…it would devastate me. “You go everywhere with him. Follow his every step.”
“And?” Callie braided two sections of my hair and clipped them together with an onyx claw studded with diamonds. One of my favorites. The finishing touch consisted of a petite red rose she tucked into one of the braids, the petals lush and bright.
“And…I always feel like he’s doing more for the ward than he lets on, and when I didn’t receive my gift, I assumed he’d try whatever he could to find the cause,” I suggested carefully.
Callie made a low humming sound. “I mean, he and I did go to the Registry after your birthday, but…”
“You found nothing,” I supplied.
Callie nodded solemnly. In the mirror, I watched as she briefly shut her eyes, her jaw tight with tension. “I didn’t want to tell you,” she admitted. “Your name wasn’t there. Which was odd, actually.”
“Why?”
She paused her movements, eyes on mine in the mirror. “Even if someone in the north doesn’t receive a gift, their name is recorded, and it states they never received one. You should be in there regardless. It’s almost like someone…”
“Someone what?” I nudged.
“Like someone removed the page.” She groaned. “Look. I don’t know what I’m saying. Don’t listen to me. My specialty lies with taxes, accounting, and shipment scheduling. Things like magic rarely cross my desk.”
“Do they cross Father’s?”
“Occasionally,” she said, frowning at a particularly stubborn strand that wouldn’t stay in place. “But only high-priority cases, and even those are rare. The Fates mainly deal with problems themselves, meaning he gets the leftover work.”
So he didn’t just run the ward. What kind of leftover work did they assign him? I wanted to push, but I had to act at least somewhat levelheaded. If Callie found out about my investigating, she might tell Father for my “safety,” and I’d never uncover the truth. Fates, I wished I could talk to her.
I forced myself to look at my lap and asked instead, “What happens to those like me who don’t get a gift? I know of a few lords and ladies, but has anyone ever succeeded in their ventures without the Fates’ blessing?”
When Callie gnawed on her lower lip, I got my answer.
“I see,” I said. “I bet they were disappointed. Same as me.” I should have felt awful for manipulating my sister, but vital questions had yet to be answered.
“The Hockleys’ older son was pissed,” Callie remarked dryly.
“I also know the Simmonses’ child left for the west last year when she didn’t receive hers.
The girl was about to set the realm aflame by the look in her eye.
I hear she’s married now to some obscenely rich businessman, which is what she always wanted. ” Callie shrugged.
That counted Lady Simmons out. “The Hockleys’ son?” I asked. “He still here?” If he remained, there was a chance I’d see him at the ball.
“So many questions tonight, little bird.” Callie tapped me on the head.
“You’re going to be just fine, I promise!
Do you honestly think I’d allow you to be anything but spectacular once I take over a ward seat?
” She cocked her head and made a smug face.
“You yourself told me I’d get one. Not many people believe in me, but you do. It means more than you know.”
My heart fell into my stomach. Should I tell her? Ask about that eerie room with records full of missing people? About Father’s involvement?
“Besides,” she continued, “Father is teaching me everything he knows, and while he isn’t the most honorable man at times”—she made a face, her nose scrunched—“I’ve learned a lot.”
I froze, seconds from spilling my secrets.
“You’ll get a seat,” I said, smiling. She was too close to Father. Too close to thinking her dreams were coming true to see reason. “I just worry. About you, me, Father.” The words were stiff. “Hell, even Mother has been out more than usual. She’s always off by the time I wake.”
Callie waved a hand. “She has her new horseback riding lessons, and then she has her tea sessions. As far as Father and I are concerned, I’m managing, but he’s, well, he’s acting off lately.
Probably due to stress. The usual. Especially since he’s stayed up late writing letter after letter to appeal to the other leaders to fix the wage decreases.
Riots will start in the street if he doesn’t get his way, and then the Fates will be pissed. ”
“But with his pen, he will.” He could convince anyone with it.
She snorted. “That’s why half the lords don’t even open his letters. Smart, really.”
True. If I got a letter from the notorious Cameron Hayes, I wouldn’t touch it with a ten-foot pole.
“When I fight my way to Father’s seat, I won’t allow anyone to walk over me,” Callie said.
She beamed, her reflection in the mirror like a ray of sunshine.
“I will make certain things are fair between the two halves of our city. I won’t even have to use my influence to do it.
Just good old-fashioned politics.” She tapped the side of her head and winked.
We might be sisters, but we were crafted of different materials.
She wished to conquer and battle her way to becoming a politician.
I, on the other hand, had dreams to travel—or, as I was discovering, a desire to escape.
Lately, those dreams seemed inconsequential in comparison to what I’d seen and learned.
How could I travel without a care and live my life in bliss when I had some power to do the right thing and speak up?
Open up the eyes of some old friends who would eventually become ward leaders themselves.
Sure, most had strayed from me now, but I’d pick out the few who would listen.
Those who weren’t as invested in petty society gossip. Tonight, I’d make a mental list.
Everett could be on that list. He was kind, too kind, probably, for society. But if Everett rose up, spoke to the other heirs waiting to take their parents’ titles, we might have a chance.
Thoughts of traveling shifted in my mind’s eye, turning to new dreams. Ones that actually mattered in the grand scheme of things. I was no politician, but I’d find my own way to help.
Callie swiped some lip stain over my lips; a pretty, darker shade of red Mother would flinch at.
It matched my dress perfectly.
“Thank you,” I said, pushing my chair back to stand.
The voluminous tulle blossomed from my form like a flower, the vibrant crimson bottom a contrast to the midnight-black top: a silken corset—and one that left my shoulders bare.
I winked at Callie. “I’ll have to grab a shawl so Mother won’t see until it’s too late. ”
“Want me to boost your confidence?” She tugged on one of her earrings, an impish light in her stare.
“I think I’ll be all right. No magic for me tonight.”
She nudged my shoulder. “Well, either way, I love being a bad influence on you.” She snagged my arm and forced me into a hug.
Briefly stunned, I returned the gesture.
She didn’t embrace often. “I’m just glad I’m here with you.
Able to see you grow,” she whispered into my ear.
“You’re turning into a woman I admire, and even though I can’t get the image of you wading in the muck when we were children, trying to catch frogs, out of my mind”—she chuckled at the memory—“I’m still proud. ”
My heart skipped several beats. In many ways, Callie had acted as more of a mother figure than our own mother. She’d taught me how to dress. How to dance. How to navigate the reality of society with grace. And when I first bled, she tucked me into bed with a hot-water bottle and a stack of novels.
“Ready?” she asked, releasing me.
When I took her in, I realized how lucky I was to have someone like her. Not many people did. I would do everything in my power to protect her when I eventually revealed the truth. Even if it broke our family in two—and me in the process.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
I captured more eyes than I anticipated.
Having received a brusque comment from Mother after I ditched my shawl in the carriage, I made my way past the people I’d known most of my life. All the ladies and lords who peered down their noses at me but smiled at Father. Even at Callie. I held my head high and embraced the shock of it all.
The glowers weren’t nearly as venomous as before, but I could tell that their judgment held them back from approaching.