Chapter 18
Ambrose
Evelyn and I arrived at Parkview Tavern early.
She’d agreed to my plan more easily than I anticipated, and that left me optimistic about its outcome.
The blood magic wanted us to grow together, or for us to understand each other better.
Either intent led to the same result: we needed to talk about ourselves without fighting about work if we hoped for the magic to release.
Though I had high hopes for the plan, when I pulled open the heavy wooden door, it felt like I was walking to my own execution.
Seraphina stood behind the bar and crossed her arms over her chest as Evelyn and I entered.
Clearly, she was still unsatisfied with my answers yesterday about our predicament.
We didn’t even pretend at the privacy of a table in the corner this time. Evelyn marched us straight to the end of the bar and two open stools.
Seraphina’s smile for Evelyn was warm, at least. “Everything alright? I didn’t expect to see you tonight.”
Evelyn nodded. “We’re having a meal with Lord Arctos in a little bit. We came early to talk.”
The fierce bartender’s hands were on her hips in a moment. “That’s what you said yesterday. Then you snuck out, upset.”
It was as if an entirely different Evelyn appeared in that moment. She looked almost sheepish, an expression that, to me, seemed thoroughly foreign on her face. “I’m sorry, Seraphina. I needed to get out in a hurry.”
Seraphina didn’t hide her dismissive glance at me. “Need me to get rid of him?”
I let out a shaky breath as Evelyn’s lip tipped into an almost-smile. “Not yet.”
“Keep me posted,” Seraphina said, turning toward the bottles behind her. “Two ales?”
Seraphina couldn’t see Evelyn’s nod with her back turned, but the owner appeared to take the lack of protest as acceptance and poured each of us a glass.
As she slid mine into my hands, she gave me a final glare.
She pointed to her usual perch just a few steps away.
“I’ll be watching from right over there. ”
I swallowed, more intimidated than I cared to admit.
“So…” Evelyn turned on her stool to face me. “What should we talk about?”
At least this question was something I’d considered. I retrieved my notebook to look at the list.
“You wrote down what we should learn about each other?” she asked.
I couldn’t tell if she was in awe of the preparation or embarrassed by it. “I thought about every time you seemed angry at me after a conversation. Those seem like good places to start for understanding each other better.”
“You don’t think you could have just been an ass in that conversation? There has to be a deeper meaning to it?”
I laughed. “It’s entirely possible that I was. In that case, I’d like to understand for future interactions.”
She looked … contemplative. I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad sign, but I pressed forward.
“How about the day we met?” We might as well start at the beginning.
“What was wrong with that?” She took a sip of her drink.
“You walked away in what some would consider the middle of a conversation.” I paused.
She sighed, looking down into her glass as if deciding whether or not this approach was worth it.
The way she rubbed her sternum made me wonder how the discomfort from the magic affected her.
In the end, she pushed her shoulders back and continued.
“I … I had wanted to meet you since I read one of your papers. And there you were, admitting you knew who I was, too.” She paused.
“I thought I finally had someone to speak with about blood magic, someone who would care more about the research than … the rest”—she waved her hand to illustrate the complexity and unfairness of fae society—“and the first thing you can think to ask is why I worked in the Records Office. As if I would work there if I had any other choice.”
I was sure my ears were bright pink by now. “I’m sorry, Evelyn.” The list in my notebook seemed irrelevant if this was the foot on which we’d started our entire relationship. She’d wanted me as a colleague, and I’d made her feel less than—just like everyone else.
My stomach churned, but I knew we needed to do this, not only for the magic.
“Before I even knew who you were, at the circulation desk, I already knew you were the most intelligent person I had ever met. When I realized who you actually were, someone whose every word I had read, it just didn’t make sense.
” I took a long sip of my ale. “I assumed you would be one of the most sought-after researchers, and I know my ignorance only reinforced a lifetime of prejudice you have dealt with. All I can say is that I will do better in the future.”
She nodded. Then, as if to distract her from my admission, she glanced down at my notebook again. “What about the test on the mulberries?”
I rubbed my forehead. “This one was also on me. I couldn’t stop the reaction.
Father’s accident occurred when he was working with mulberries.
He said he’d intended to see growth opportunities.
I believed his theory was that the magic could guide us—we didn’t have to come up with all the answers.
I’m not sure if he had an alternate intent he was unaware of, or if the fact that there were few opportunities for growth meant there was little to see.
But either way, when the magic took hold, his vision was severely impaired. ”
There was a large crease in her forehead, like she didn’t quite understand.
“I was just worried. Scared. Anxious. I’m sure they were all fighting for top billing in my brain at the time.”
“About me?” she asked with some wonder, as if she couldn’t quite believe that was the case.
I tilted my head, now trying to comprehend her side of the question. “Of course.”
The apples of her cheeks turned red, and I felt another layer of understanding peel away.
“Of course I was worried about you, Evelyn. That’s always been my problem. I know you’re capable. I know it doesn’t come off to you this way, but I know you’re careful, too. My father was both of those things. Accidents still happen.”
She held my gaze, and something tugged between us at the understanding. I couldn’t say if it had anything to do with the magic or not. My wolf paced in my head. All my senses were thrown off when it came to Evelyn Knowles.
“What about this one?” She pointed at another item on the list. “It was like you didn’t want me hired.”
A laugh slipped from my lips at that statement, and Evelyn, being Evelyn, narrowed in on it.
“You did want me hired?” she asked.
When I didn’t reply, frozen, contemplating what to share, she pressed, “Why did the head librarian come to the Records Office, Ambrose?”
I let my head hang as my fingers wrapped around my glass. “Because I told him there was someone he should meet there for an open position.”
Her mouth hung open, and I realized then how badly we’d needed this—blood magic or not.
“We only talked for a few minutes,” she whispered.
“And I wished it had been a few hours. Gabriel hadn’t read your papers.
I shared one with him because I knew you were exactly what he was looking for.
And then you were there, in the library, doing your tests.
You were so … sharp with your words and your mind.
And Gabriel trusted you. That also doesn’t happen often.
I can’t tell you how many researchers he leaves to their own devices. ”
“So you were jealous?” she asked. The question seemed so plain, so unfiltered—my answer was anything but.
“It’s more complicated than that. I felt like I had been working forever to barely grasp what you intuitively understood.”
Her soft laugh was music to my ears. I wanted to earn it more often.
Part of me wondered if she was truly entertained or if her reactions to me were a result of our current predicament.
My stomach dropped, and I took another long pull of my drink as I cataloged everything that entailed.
For a moment, I dared to believe I was just here, at the tavern, having a drink with Evelyn.
Maybe we were just discussing our day and our perspectives.
We wouldn’t always agree, but we could negotiate, perhaps meet in the middle, or learn a little from each other instead of assuming the other came from a place of judgment.
I wasn’t sure where we would go from here, but I felt certain we were accomplishing some part of our goal.
When I glanced back up, she studied me. Her lips moved, but no sound came out.
I took this to mean she was still formulating what she wanted to say.
To the casual observer, Evelyn might have seemed rash, but I knew she was careful with her words.
She knew the power of them and chose each one with care.
“I call you the library golden boy in my head,” she admitted.
A loud laugh slipped from my lips. “It’s not always in your head, Evelyn. I’ve heard it.”
She didn’t look chastened as she continued. “You’ve been studying this for years. You had a great teacher in learning Vesten history. You know the needs of the court inside and out. I’m stumbling along in the dark, trying to do my best.”
“You don’t think I’m doing the same?” I clutched my glass for something to hold on to.
“Every day, I’m unsure about what I’m doing.
I believe in my research, but I know it can’t get us where we need to go.
Some days, when I’m reading your papers, I know your vision for blood magic testing is correct.
” She sucked in a breath, but I continued.
“But that is at war with my every instinct. Sometimes, I’m not sure if I love or hate that part of my work. ”
“The history—you love the history, though, right?”
I nodded.
“Is that why you stay? Even though the rest upsets you?”
The single question would have made my knees shaky if I weren’t already perched on the barstool.
“It doesn’t upset me.” I tapped my fingers on the bar. “Don’t you ever get nervous?”
Her smile was soft. “I do.”
It didn’t make me feel better, but it was a nice reminder that we had as many similarities as differences. I took another long drink. “My family agreed to stop testing, stop trying to find a remedy for Father’s vision, but I can’t help but…”
She nodded. “You can’t help but think you can learn something new in the study of blood magic?”
I sighed. “Yes, I guess that sounds pathetic.”
Her hand reached for mine, covering it where it lay on the bar top. “It doesn’t. I do the same thing for my mom. In fact, it’s part of why I want the Vesten historian position.”
I sat up straighter, even though my attention was still locked on her hand where it lingered over mine before she removed it. We were no longer touching, but now only inches separated our fingertips.
I’d overheard the end of her conversation with Lord Arctos today. Her fae father wasn’t in the picture. I had already assumed that from the lack of information she had on how to shift, but the confirmation made me irrationally angry.
“My story doesn’t sound as altruistic as yours. It makes me sound like a terrible daughter, but I’m hoping you’ll hear me out, and consider where I’m coming from, like we’re supposed to be doing.”
The way her finger wrapped around the end of her ponytail told me she wasn’t sure she believed that. She wasn’t making eye contact, but I nodded anyway.
“Mom and I have different thoughts on where my father is.” She cleared her throat. “Mom thinks something … happened to him.” This time, she took a long drink before proceeding. “I think he left us.”
I wasn’t sure where this was going. “What would have happened to him?”
“Mom believes he was a victim of the mist plague.”
The mist plague had put those affected into an endless sleep. Whole villages had been taken, and it wasn’t until recently that the Compass Points figured out how to awaken those impacted. “If that were the case … wouldn’t…”
“Yes,” she nodded. “That’s my point. If he had been impacted, he would have been home by now. It’s been months since the Compass Points awakened the last village.”
“I see.” I did, but I didn’t. The way she had spoken to Lord Arctos, it made the statement that her father left her seem like a fact, not something recently determined.
She understood the vague question in my statement. “Yes, I believed this well before I had proof of it. It never made sense that he happened to disappear to a random village the same day it was taken by the mist plague.” She waved her hands in exasperation.
“If he were a shifter, he could have been, you know, shifting and running.” I shrugged as she glared at me.
“I get it. It’s possible. It’s just not particularly likely, is all I’m saying.”
“What does the position of Vesten historian have to do with protecting your mom?”
She sighed. “It would just be nice to be able to put the conversation to bed once and for all. Part of the record keeping is family trees.”
I nodded. “You would find him?”
It was her turn to shrug. “I would for Mom’s sake. She doesn’t deserve to wonder what happened forever.”
It must have been the empty glass sitting in front of me, but I leaned forward. “What about you? Don’t you want something, too?”
Her eyes widened in surprise. She tried to hide it, but she wasn’t fast enough for the way I studied her.
“I learned a long time ago not to want anything from him. I would like to know if he’s a …
if his shift is the same as mine. If he has any answers for me, I’d take them, then we could go our separate ways. ”
I opened my mouth to respond. Before I could speak, a large hand clasped my shoulder. I glanced up, and Lord Arctos stood behind us in his fae form.
His green eyes were filled with mischief. “Were you two starting without me?”