Chapter 33
Evelyn
As Ambrose predicted, when we greeted the innkeeper, she immediately provided two keys.
I smiled as I felt the heat in Ambrose’s attention.
He let me lead, and I told her we’d only need one this time and slipped my hand in Ambrose’s.
Her brow arched as she glanced again between us.
A knowing smile curled her lip as she handed me a key and told me that now she owed the Vesten God a favor.
She didn’t look too upset about whatever bet she had lost. And I was unsurprised to hear more of Lord Arctos’s meddling, even now.
I’d never considered myself masochistic, but the way I soaked up every hour cocooned in a bubble of intimacy with Ambrose had me second-guessing.
It was as if I had no fear of the future.
I didn’t focus on all that might happen next, or on what it could mean for us.
I focused only on what existed between us now.
In some unspoken agreement, Ambrose did the same.
With the sunrise, our responsibilities returned. We needed to break the blood magic that connected us, and we both seemed confident we knew how. That answer would inevitably lead to the solution to Lord Arctos and Carter’s problem, which would conclude with one of us named Vesten historian.
We would cross that bridge when we got there. In the meantime, our relationship wouldn’t inhibit our research.
Ambrose might be cautious, and I might appear rash.
He might know every fact about Vesten history, and I might understand blood magic, but beneath these surface-level differences, we held core similarities.
The puzzle pieces had to be put together; neither of us would stop until the final picture made sense.
We left the inn early. With another shift, a final sprint west to Sandrin, Ambrose and I returned to the library. I was the first to reach the Great Room. An outside observer might have thought that we weren’t racing, but they would be wrong. Ambrose and I couldn’t not compete.
My favorite study carrel called to me across the room. It had only been a few days, but I immediately inspected my experiment. The rose and morning glory in the window were most certainly growing together.
Usually, the morning glory bloomed bright and big and beautifully, and completely overshadowed the rose.
When I’d left, the stems had started to twine together.
Part of me had worried this was a new way for the morning glory to strangle the rose.
I was happy to see that I’d been wrong. The flowers didn’t simply share space—their stems had intertwined to create a single, sturdier stem.
The flowers had both bloomed. The red rose blossom and white morning glory petals were equally tipped toward the sun outside the window.
Anything is possible with blood magic.
If the flowers’ connection was a mirror to mine and Ambrose’s, I shouldn’t be surprised that it had worked so well.
I was glad that the Vesten Point said the anchor for their particular magic was no longer available because, in this moment, I knew the flowers were an anchor for mine and Ambrose’s bond, and I really didn’t want to destroy them.
Since Lord Arctos and Carter said that path was unavailable to solve their problem, I saw no reason to explore it with ours.
Another part of me hoped that breaking the connection with Ambrose wouldn’t disrupt the flowers’ newfound peace.
Maybe I also hope it won’t disrupt our newfound … something.
“Alright, Evelyn?” I turned to Ambrose, who had snuck up behind me again. The pot with the growing plants was in my hands, held out like an offering. I hadn’t registered the emotions flooding me until I felt something wet against my cheek.
Ambrose’s thumb was there. He cupped my cheek as he swiped away the drop. “I think they’ll be alright. I’m sure you’ve already realized that they are our anchor. If burning the rope doesn’t work, I do think burning the flowers would break the connection.”
I sucked in an outraged breath.
He chuckled. “But we’re not testing the anchor method, are we? We’re testing your method, severing the connection at the source.”
I punched him lightly on the shoulder. “You could have phrased that any other way.”
He smiled. “Where would the fun be in that?”
“Are you ready to do this?” I asked.
He nodded. “Here?” He glanced down at the single chair in the study carrel.
“We should probably get the other chair from the closet to recreate the specific event.”
“The event where you accepted a sandwich from me? The event where you shared your theories with me, even though we were … are … competitors?”
My stomach flipped with the acknowledgement I knew we’d both avoided. I set the pot down in the window. “Yes, that one.”
He returned quickly with the chair, and we took our seats. It was midday, and other researchers wandered through the stacks, but somehow it felt like Ambrose and I were alone in the library. Hesitation crept up my spine, and I couldn’t pinpoint precisely why.
“You tried to do this at Vesten House, correct?” I asked, though he had already confirmed as much yesterday morning with Lord Arctos. I was pretty sure I was stalling.
His slight smirk said he understood too much, but still, he answered my question. “I could control the burn, but the rope wouldn’t ignite.”
“You should try it here.”
His brow furrowed. “You don’t want to try? I can teach you how to adjust the temperature of your fire. You learned so quickly with your shift, I’m sure you could do this with a few tries.”
I smirked. “I’m sure I would, too. But if you’re still comfortable with it, I’d like you to do it.”
Heat flashed in Ambrose’s eyes at my confidence.
He was such a good teacher—well-practiced from helping his siblings, but he found the exact right ways to communicate with me, too.
And I was a prickly student. I resented the fact that the information hadn’t been available to me when I needed it.
Ambrose had a point when he said I put too much weight on my father’s absence.
The responsibility of teaching me magic shouldn’t have fallen on one person’s shoulders.
The Vesten Court needed solutions to help others in my situation find their way more quickly, more surely, than the roundabout path I had stumbled through.
I wanted it to be easier for those who came after me.
My thoughts turned to Ambrose. He’d skirted how large a decision he’d made with his first attempt to break our connection.
Blood magic on living things. Who would have thought?
If anything, the severity of Lord Arctos and Carter’s request seemed to have shown him there was value in the knowledge.
I had already known he’d do great things, but how quickly he evolved his position with new knowledge gave me confidence he’d fit the Vesten historian position as well as I would.
And now I was back to thinking about our competition.
Emotions flooded me, emotions I wasn’t used to dealing with. I’d gotten so used to letting the things I wanted pass me by. So used to not wanting anything to prevent further disappointment. Now, I’d ended up wanting two things that seemed incompatible with each other.
I wanted the Vesten historian position, but I wanted Ambrose, too.
My sigh was heavy as I rubbed my chest. We sat next to each other, but I could feel the flare of the magic between us.
Part of me knew our fire and animals reaching for each other would remain.
It was a symptom of our attraction to each other, not the blood magic.
Still, I hesitated. “I am not sure I could destroy it. I’m feeling sentimental this afternoon. ”
He laughed. “You think I want to?”
I shrugged, unsure if I wanted to push to understand what his comment meant.
His hand closed around mine. “I’ll do it because I know we’re not exactly acting rationally at the moment. Before I do, I want you to know that this accidental bond was the best thing that has ever happened to me, Evelyn.”
I saw the truth of his words in his hazel eyes. “No one has ever accused me of being irrational.”
His lip tilted playfully. “That’s not true, I used to do it all the time.”
“You’re the exception.”
“I’ll happily remain the exception to your every rule.” He leaned forward but seemed to stop himself, as if he’d remembered we were in the library. Even the way he held my hand was likely pushing the limits of propriety here.
I wanted to stay in this space with him longer.
After this, everything would change. Carter would make his decision.
I glanced at my experiment in the window.
I wanted to stay in the space where we grew together rather than apart.
My wants blended as I imagined a world where I had both Ambrose in my life and the Vesten historian position.
I had to assume that picture in my head allowed the words to slip out. “Save that for later.”
Once they were out, I desperately wanted them to be true.
But how could it be possible? I didn’t know what I’d do if Ambrose got the position.
Would he move to Compass Lake? It wasn’t that I would begrudge him his success, but it certainly wouldn’t make things easy for us.
And if I got the position, Mom and I had talked of moving.
Well, even that wasn’t a guarantee anymore. Not with my father’s return.
Everything felt up in the air, but as with our attempt to appease the blood magic, the only way out was through.
Ambrose nodded, his face resolute, determined. He knew as much as I did what my words meant. Knowing Ambrose, he was studying every tick of my jaw and narrowing of my eyes as I tried to will a future I couldn’t see into existence.
The bubble we were in was about to burst. But what if it doesn’t have to?
Our breaths were deep, and we finally stared at each other. “Do it now,” I said.
He kept my hand wrapped in his as he closed his eyes. I followed, letting my fire find the connection point between us. Every time I searched for the rope that led from me to him, it was easier to find. My fire skittered along it to the center, to the tie that neither of us had been able to break.
His heat met mine at the impenetrable knot.
I was proud of Ambrose for doing this. Everything about this test would have earned his father’s disapproval.
Not only had we accidentally bound ourselves together, but we’d tested breaking the connection—an unprecedented test, a test so rare the Compass Points and gods didn’t know how to do it.
Ambrose had avoided this kind of magic for so long.
He thought his caution avoided any risk associated with blood magic—any connection to living things—but I liked to think I’d taught him differently.
I’d taught him that there was always risk associated with blood magic.
People were unpredictable, as we had learned firsthand, but I was confident in what he would do to break our connection.
Smoke drifted up from where his heat pressed into the knot. “It’s fraying,” he whispered.
My fire could sense the weakening magic. I squeezed his fingers tighter as he worked. My other hand rose to my chest, as if I could feel the break in our connection. I couldn’t, but the tightening of my body felt like a warning—like something was coming, even if I wasn’t sure what.
The tether between us snapped.
Ambrose gasped. We collapsed into each other’s arms, forgetting again that we were in the library, forgetting that anyone around us could see. Our foreheads met softly, and we shared breaths, neither of us able to catch our own.
I just needed to know he was still there. My awareness of him was gone. That space in my chest where the discomfort had been seemed empty, like a well that hoped to fill with the first rain of the season.
“It worked,” he whispered. He didn’t even try to hide the lingering disappointment in his voice.
“I know.” And I did. We could be more scientific about it.
We could wait until we separated and didn’t feel the insistent tug in the direction of the other to declare victory, but this test didn’t require it.
There was a bone-deep knowing that the magic had severed.
As I put a few inches of space between us and studied Ambrose, I wondered if everything else we were building had been disrupted.
Only time would tell.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hi,” Ambrose replied with a dopey smile on his face. “Want to—”
“Your little knot—or whatever you were calling it—seems to be gone.” Lord Arctos clapped his hands together loudly as he walked across the room. “Just in time. Carter will be here tomorrow for you to test it on us.”