Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Andrin suggested he and Calya find a place to talk, and they managed to get a quieter booth in the Mighty Leaf. Though the tearoom had a decent crowd leftover from Winterfest activities, it wasn’t packed like a few weeks back during the reopening of Eunny’s repair café.
Gods. Only a few weeks ago. The span of time was incomprehensible. So short, yet it felt like it had been years. A lifetime. How could so much change in a handful of weeks?
While her father ordered tea for them both, she gazed out the window, wondering where Lowe had gone.
He’d bowed out of Calya’s meeting with Andrin with diplomatic grace, his expression unreadable.
No parting words of revisiting interrupted moments this time.
But would she have had an answer for him if they did?
“Calya?”
Shaken from her musing, she turned her attention back to Andrin.
She blinked several times, still trying to make sense of him, Andrin Helm, in the Mighty Leaf, of all places.
Judging by his expression and how two small pots of tea and a tray of snacks had arrived, she’d been lost in thought for longer than she’d intended.
“My apologies, Father.” Calya poured herself a cup, annoyed that her hands shook. “You said we have business to discuss?”
“Wembly.” Her father pushed a set of papers toward her across the table. “He’ll be dealt with, I assure you. His betrayal is an embarrassment to me and the company, of course, so we have to act quickly to mitigate damage.”
Calya picked up the papers, pausing as she noted the Helm family crest her father preferred for personal use—a flowing ‘H’ over a stylized ship—embossed at the top. Her gaze flicked up, but Father’s face remained impassive as he sipped his tea. He nodded once, encouraging her to read.
The top paper was a draft for a formal announcement.
She speed-read it once, eyebrows rising.
Another glance at her father, but he pointedly looked out over the rest of the tearoom.
Calya read the letter again, slower this time.
Glancing at the rest of the papers, she found Helm Naval’s standard boilerplate contract for employment.
“Assistant deputy to the director,” she murmured. A three-year position answering to Andrin himself, who would be stepping away from his position on the Transportation Board for the duration. All the better to prepare Calya for the full role, according to the statement.
Andrin nodded slowly. “We can make the formal announcement after Winterfest. You’ll have shared oversight for six of the Districts. A small staff of your own. It’s a significant promotion.”
Calya hummed in response. Then, more pointedly she added, “The districts and staff provided by you, I take it.”
He dismissed her concern with a snort. “You may submit your choices. I’ll only reserve final approval.”
It wasn’t the promotion she’d always wanted, but it was something. Mostly. Looked at another way, it was essentially an apprenticeship. With a set duration, and no verbiage promising further mobility. The wording of it nagged at her.
I formally name my youngest daughter, Calya Helm, as my Assistant Deputy, in a three-year term.
It will give her time and experience to learn the senior managerial duties required at such a level at Helm Naval Engineering.
Under my guidance, she will be prepared to eventually continue the legacy our family has built.
At least it was written in his hand rather than dictated to a secretary. It certainly had Andrin’s fingerprints all over it. His chains.
“I’m surprised you’re stepping down from your government work, Father,” Calya said. “There’s no guarantee you’ll be given your spot back once I’m named director at HNE. Three years is a long time in that world, isn’t it?”
“Helm Naval is more important,” he said loftily. “We need to get out in front of this Wembly business before the Grae Port News catches—”
“You haven’t been more than a name on the masthead for years,” Calya said quietly. “I’ve been at HNE every day. I’ve been steering it. Not just continuing its legacy, Father, but preparing us to be even greater.”
“Calya.”
“I’ve earned this,” she said. “Haven’t I proved it to you enough?”
Either her father didn’t see the vulnerability in her eyes, or he didn’t care. Perhaps he was incapable of looking beyond his child to see the woman she’d become. Calya had never understood her parents’ reluctance when it came to her, but she’d been patient. She’d waited.
And yet.
“You don’t have the experience—”
“The trustee you hired to mind me turned out to be a godsdamned crook!” Calya snapped. “And all you can think about is, is…”
She stared at her father, whose cheeks were now reddened with barely contained temper.
“You wouldn’t promote me at all, but the case against the Coalition is too public,” she said. “My name will be all over it. Which is it, Father? Do you want to capitalize on my success, or are you trying to save face? All that media attention, someone’s bound to find out about Wembly—”
“That vindictive tone is proof of why you’re not ready to have my company, Calya. You’re still too impulsive.”
She glared at him. “You’re a fool.”
“Don’t test me. You know how fast Central moves. We need to stay on top of this.” Andrin stood. “We return to Grae Port on the first windrunner tomorrow morning. Don’t be late.”
He stalked out, leaving Calya alone with the paperwork.
She finished her cup, but the cozy, happy atmosphere of the Mighty Leaf was too at odds with her mood.
She wandered down to the lake, gazing out over the gently lapping waves.
The rain had softened, more of a mist than a drizzle as it pattered the lake’s surface.
She felt more than heard Lowe come up behind her.
“Good news?” he asked.
Calya held the drafted announcement out. For a moment, it seemed that he wouldn’t take it. His hand moved slowly, fingers gripping the paper like it was a weapon.
Maybe it was. Her father had traded magic and a workshop for a politician’s sash, wielded words now rather than runes. The promotion was written like an offer, but only one response would be accepted.
Lowe handed the paper back. “When do you leave?”
His tone was carefully neutral, and when she faced him, his expression remained mask-like. No glimmer of his own feelings.
No sentiment.
Calya faced the water again. “A ship leaves tomorrow.”
A series of inhales, the beginnings of words on the cusp of sound, reached her ears, followed by sighs. Sharp puffs of frustration, as if Lowe struggled to speak. Or forced himself to stop.
Finally, hoarsely, he managed, “Will you be on it?”
Anadae spoke often of how she found the lake soothing. A good place to think and find clarity. Perhaps it was a mage thing, because for Calya, it held no answers. Not the ones she sought.
“We’ve never talked about what a future between us would look like. If it’s even possible,” Calya said. “What does the wind tell you?”
“I don’t know. I won’t ask,” he said. Softly, almost like he was afraid she would blow away. He let his fingers graze her arm. “I want to hear it from you.”
“Long distance would never work. It’s not who I am.”
“Graelynd is your home,” he murmured. “I’d never ask you to leave it. I’ll—I would go with you. If you’d have me.”
Calya still considered her father’s words. His promise, his ultimatum. She could have it, her lukewarm promotion and her ranger. It wasn’t everything she’d hoped for, yet, at the same time, it was more of a future than she’d ever known she wanted. It could be hers.
Everything she wanted. Thought she wanted.
It wasn’t really everything, after all. What good was a weak promotion that put her under the yoke of her father’s expectations?
Continue the legacy our family has built.
Continue the company according to Andrin’s vision.
Continue to be a puppet, only now with a fancier title.
Upgraded to golden strings, and even that was only because he cared more about his image than rewarding her as she deserved.
The stipulated three years meant nothing.
Could be continued in an endless loop, even after he returned to politics.
Which he’d likely only left to avoid more scrutiny when the bungle with Wembly came out.
Helm Naval. She’d wanted it for so long. Seen it as her path. But what good was a company that could never be hers? How did putting her hope in Andrin one day changing his mind enable her to make her mark on the world? To be the best? To matter?
Lowe was still next to her, tense. Waiting for her—not just for a time, but maybe forever if she were to ask it.
But what good was a ranger without a forest? Without mountains. Without, Goddess help her, this rain-sodden Valley.
“No,” she said.
Lowe remained stiff—until she tore the paperwork in half. Into quarters. Ripped it again and again and cast the fragments into the air, letting the lake have them. He stared at her, eyes wide.
“I won’t have that life. Graelynd would make you a shadow of the man I’ve wanted. It would have me wearing a muzzle to appease my father and his archaic vision.” Calya still faced the water, but she gripped his hand, held him close against her arm.
“Are—are you sure?” he asked, voice so soft she almost couldn’t hear. “Helm Naval… it’s what you’ve always wanted.”
“My identity. What drove me to be ambitious and reckless and—”
“No. Do not trust, that was always for me,” Lowe said. “A warning, because I was afraid of change.”
“It’s all you’ve ever known of me, and now that’s gone,” she whispered. She turned to him, palm cupping his cheek. “I don’t know what the wind said, but if you would have me, I will build us something new. Something greater than anyone could ever dream.”
Lowe kissed her, deeply. Resting his forehead against hers, he murmured, “You’ll conquer the world.”
Calya smirked. “Baby steps. Andrin thought it would take three years to mold me into a proper businesswoman.” She bared her teeth in a smile. “In three years, Helm Naval will face acquisitions, or fold.”
Lowe kissed her again. “You scare the fuck out of me.” Then he leaned back, worry in his eyes when he said, hesitantly, “You’re sure about this? Living here… you could be happy? With me?”
Calya bit her lip and took a step back, shoulders hunching.
He was the first man she’d felt any real attachment toward, any sentimentality.
She had it and believed it to be true, but she knew she was not suddenly changed.
Lady Heartless might have a few shards left in her chest, but was that enough?
Was she, she who had only so much in her to give?
“I lied to you before,” she said softly, finally meeting his gaze. “I’ll never love you back.”
Lowe froze, face going pale.
“Not the way you deserve.” She caressed his face again, her lips forming a sad smile. “I am still ambitious. Reckless, or ruthless. More than anything, I am selfish. In whatever is left in me that resembles a heart, I will struggle to keep you first, as you should be.”
She pressed her lips to his. “I will never love you back. Not the way you deserve,” she repeated. “But I will want you, every day. You can trust in that.”
Lowe stared at her. Closed his eyes in a long, slow blink. Then he wrapped his arms around her, crushing her against his chest as his entire body shook with a laugh, one full of relief.
“I’ll love you enough for the both of us,” he vowed before his mouth was upon hers. Calya’s lips parted, and it was all the encouragement he needed. His tongue swept in, and a shiver of delight ran up her spine at the taste of him. Of this ranger who wanted her, embraced her with all her thorns.
They might have stood there at the lakeside forever, oblivious to the world… until the world pushed back in. A scattered shower of heavier, concentrated rain slanted sideways at them.
Lowe raised his hand, a gust of wind saving them from the worst of the drenching.
Calya waved in exasperation at the sky. “I did you a favor! I’m staying. Get used to it.”
The lake surged, a low wave splashing them both up to the knees. In only the spot where they stood on the rocky beach.
Calya glared at Lowe, who raised his hands in a helpless gesture. “It’s not too late to go for a water mage instead of a diviner.”
“Don’t tempt me,” she muttered. She started away from the lake, then turned to him. “So, where do you live?”
He laughed, the sound rich and joyous. It sent a warmth through Calya that filled her chest and settled, that sense of rightness becoming a background presence in her head.
He held out his hand. Taken aback, she blinked at it. At him. Then, feeling just a touch charmed by the novelty, she slid her palm into his and let him guide her back to town.