Page 19

19

Luna

D ays later, I was still venting my frustrations with Vincent on the dough I kneaded.

In the safety of my cottage, I stewed on his question from the magic tavern.

How dare he show regret ?

I pushed my palms into the dough and folded it.

How dare he realize he was the ass in this whole bargain.

I could admit I realized now why he’d been so sensitive to my request for a recommendation.

That was what everyone did.

That was how everyone saw him.

You saw him that way, too, before you knew better.

That was the problem, wasn’t it?

I couldn’t have known how people used him for his recommendations without knowing him.

Couldn’t the same be said for him and your relationship with Darius?

I shook my head and folded the dough again.

No.

He’d known there was strain between me and Darius.

He’d said he went to the court records office.

Vincent would have seen where my name was in the Norden book.

Why is this bothering me?

I didn’t know what had come over him, but his hesitation to continue our bargain had been plain as day on his face.

I could still see it with perfect clarity.

I gritted my teeth and folded the dough again.

That couldn’t happen.

No matter the complexities of my feelings for Vincent, I needed to save this inn.

We’d come so far already.

The only way I could keep him from canceling our bargain was to plow forward with Darius.

I had to hold up my end, and then he’d have no choice but to continue.

I’d sent Darius a message the morning after seeing Vincent.

I had yet to hear back, but that wasn’t abnormal.

I didn’t expect an immediate response, or, at least, that is what I told myself.

What would it be like if my father actually wanted to hear from me?

Or spend time with me?

Well, it didn’t guarantee things would be better.

I remembered how Vincent’s parents had approached our table at the restaurant.

The entitled way they’d claimed his time and attempted to dictate his actions.

He’d fought them off the best he could, but still.

It was clear they treasured him in their own way.

Maybe more like a precious stone to look at and value instead of a living, breathing fae with his own thoughts and opinions, but.

.

.

it was something.

They had their own ideas and requirements for what his life should look like.

I wasn’t sure that was any better than my father completely ignoring me.

I pressed my palms into the dough again with more force.

When a knock on the door sounded, I silently thanked the gods for distracting me from the thoughts of Vincent and our bargain.

“Come in!”

Evelyn entered, balancing a stack of books precariously in one arm.

A folded piece of paper lay across the top.

I reached to help her but my hands were still covered in sticky dough .

“Sorry, Evelyn, I can’t help you at the moment.”

Evelyn grunted.

“I saw this on the inn’s doorstep, so I grabbed it.” She set the folded paper on the counter.

“The rest are mine.” She gestured to the stack of books.

“We have a good starting point for opening that door.”

I hadn’t seen Evelyn much in the last week, given I wasn’t working at the tavern often.

Seraphina, the friend she was, hadn’t given me shifts, knowing I had things to do for the inn.

That hadn’t stopped Evelyn from reporting on her progress.

She’d sent me her notes on the magic after I stopped by the tavern; it was a treatise I could only understand every other word of, but Evelyn was its author.

I’d known she was brilliant, but I couldn’t believe she’d been hiding such a big part of her life from us.

She seemed obsessed with solving this problem.

It was as if the magic sealing the door personally offended her.

Rinsing my hands, I toweled them dry and grabbed the note.

My breath came up short.

It was from Darius.

I broke the seal and read it.

“He wants to meet for the evening meal.” I coughed.

“At Parkview Tavern.” My eyes continued skimming the page.

“Tomorrow.”

Evelyn stepped closer to read over my shoulder.

“That was quick. What did you say to him?”

“I said I wanted to report the inn’s progress. I also told him I had a favor to ask.” I flipped the page over to see if he’d written on the other side.

“He didn’t even ask about the favor. Or the inn.”

Evelyn’s hands went to her hips.

“Well, at least if you meet him at the tavern, Seraphina and I will be there if it goes to shit.”

I laughed.

“Yes, that will help.”

It was still strange.

Even the fact that Parkview Tavern was where he wanted to meet.

I’d expected Darius to be more like Vincent’s parents.

It wouldn’t have surprised me if he’d suggested the same restaurant Vincent had taken me to.

Just as quickly, another unwanted thought jumped in.

Maybe he doesn’t want to be seen with you there by anyone important, anyone he knows.

Honestly, I wished I didn’t always think the worst of him.

I wished there was some place in the middle where we could meet.

I’d love to believe he’d invited me to the tavern because he knew I was comfortable there, but that would require him to know anything about my life—which he didn’t.

I sighed.

“Are you going to accept?” Evelyn asked.

“Yes, of course. This is part of the deal with Vincent. For him to write the article, I must get him into Pierce House.”

Evelyn looked like she’d say something but shook her head instead.

“Have you decided on the favor that will get you and Vincent invited to the house?”

I hadn’t.

I really should have come up with something in my original note to Darius, but another small part of me had wanted to see if he’d respond if there was nothing in it for him.

He had, which I guessed was to his credit.

I wasn’t great at lying.

I’d need something close to the truth, or he’d never believe it.

At least I had until tomorrow to workshop ideas.

“You could tell him you want to see Pierce House?” she offered.

“I’m not sure that’s enough. He’s never offered to show it to me before. Why would he now?”

Evelyn’s gaze darted between me and the letter.

“He’s never offered to meet for a meal before, either, until you asked to speak with him. Maybe that’s the difference.”

“Me asking?” I had said this to Seraphina weeks ago, but I was still surprised Evelyn mentioned it.

I’d never asked Darius for anything.

Maybe he’d been waiting for me to do so.

I shook my head.

“I don’t think he cares what I want. He didn’t care when I was a child and had no magic. Nothing has changed.” My words were too harsh for Evelyn.

This had nothing to do with her.

“Sorry.” I brushed my hair back from my face.

She smiled.

“It’s fine. You know him better than I. Do you want to walk over to the inn and test some of what I’ve found?”

“Yes, that’d be great. Let me bring this.” I picked up the bowl where my dough was resting.

My instincts told me I’d soon have more emotions to work out on it.

We entered the inn, and I headed to the small kitchen while Evelyn went upstairs.

Rolling the dough into twist shapes didn’t work out the same energy as kneading, but it was soothing nonetheless.

These pastries were my favorite, perfect for adding a little sugar and cinnamon.

As I finished and slid them in the oven, a knock sounded at the door.

I opened it to find Vincent and…

someone else.

“Hi, Luna,” Vincent said.

“I hope we’re not imposing. This is my friend, Ambrose. He might know something about the magic on your locked door.”

As I studied Vincent, any lingering anger seemed to rush from my chest like a retreating tide.

We hadn’t made plans to speak again until I could uphold my side of the bargain.

I wouldn’t risk him trying to back out again, and spending time together only seemed to weaken his resolve.

Mine, too, if I was honest.

Now, here he was, trying to solve one of my problems that had no part in our bargain.

Something prickled behind my eyes.

I blinked rapidly and turned my focus to his friend.

Ambrose was tall, with auburn hair pushed back from his face.

It was messy, as if he consistently ran his hand through it.

“Hi, Ambrose. Thanks for coming by.” I glanced nervously at Vincent.

“But I already have someone here working on the door. ”

“It’s Evelyn Knowles, isn’t it?” Ambrose, as I expected, ran his fingers through his hair, waiting for my answer.

My eyes narrowed, and I folded my arms over my chest as I held the door, ready to close it.

What did this stranger want with Evelyn?

As if recognizing my concern, Ambrose held out his hands.

“I work with her at the Vesten Library.” He sounded regretful as he continued.

“She’s the only other person in the city who could help with this if it is as Vincent describes.”

Appearing like she was summoned, Evelyn padded down the stairs to stand at my side.

“What are you doing here, Ambrose?”

“I was asked to help. It sounded interesting.”

Evelyn glared at him, her hand on her hip.

“It only sounded interesting because you knew whoever solved it would be better positioned for our paper.”

Ambrose folded his arms over his chest.

The move showed off oddly defined biceps for an academic.

My gaze hadn’t lingered for more than a moment when a familiar wind swept through my hair.

I shivered, glaring at Vincent as the conversation continued.

Vincent noted my glare, smirking as if to say he and his wind had no regrets.

I remembered his words from the dance floor.

My wind and I are one, but sometimes it does things I lack the courage to.

“And I noticed you didn’t tell me about it at the library yesterday.” Ambrose tapped his chin.

“Or maybe it slipped your mind.”

“She is one of my best friends.” Evelyn gestured to me in a way that would have been sweet if she hadn’t sounded so exhausted by the announcement.

“Must you vex me even in my extracurricular activities?”

My attention left Vincent and returned to the researchers arguing at the door.

I wasn’t sure I’d ever heard Evelyn speak this way to someone.

It was clear that Ambrose only wanted to be here because Evelyn was.

Evelyn seemed to understand no such thing.

I couldn’t help but laugh at the tension.

They both glared at me.

“Vincent asked if I could help. And this is his…” Ambrose paused, his cheeks heating.

He must have realized he didn’t know the extent of my relationship with Vincent.

He shot a panicked glance at Vincent, who didn’t look like he was doing all too well himself with completing the sentence.

I decided to put them both out of their misery.

“How do you two know each other?” I asked, gesturing between Ambrose and Vincent.

Now that I sensed a collegiate rivalry between Evelyn and Ambrose, I was beyond entertained by the coincidence.

“We met when he wrote a piece earlier this year on the Compass Points’ visit to Sandrin.” He glanced at Vincent.

“That one never got published, did it?”

“No, it didn’t,” he said stiffly.

“But that’s not why we’re here.” He gestured between Evelyn and Ambrose.

“As they’ve both attested, they are the only two scholars capable of solving the issue with your door. I suggest we let them work. You and I can chat in the kitchen, where I smell some sugary sweetness we should discuss serving at the inn’s announcement weekend.”

I wasn’t ready to be alone with Vincent so quickly.

What if he wanted to dissolve our bargain again?

I knew he had his reasons, as I had mine for wanting to keep it.

The comment about the piece he’d worked on with Ambrose was an easy reminder.

He didn’t want to write recommendations forever, and I was his ticket away from them.

All he needed to do was write one final recommendation—mine.

“The rolls have a little time before they’re ready,” I hedged.

“Let’s see what these two will get up to first.”

He pursed his lips as if he might try to argue, but then shook his head and followed us as we marched up the steps to the locked door.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” Ambrose said as he knelt before the door.

He turned to glare at Evelyn.

“I had it under control.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Of course you did, but you should have said something.” Ambrose turned to me then.

“Do you know anything about the magic on this door?”

“No. I didn’t even know it was magically locked until…” I glanced at Evelyn for help.

“Two weeks ago?”

“What were you going to try today?” Ambrose asked Evelyn.

She glared at Ambrose but shot a worried look over her shoulder at me.

“Ambrose, can we...confer?” I couldn’t imagine what I had done wrong, but I shrugged and stepped back to give them space.

I didn’t realize until too late that this left me in the same position I’d attempted to avoid downstairs.

Vincent smiled at me.

It was too charming, the way his thick brown hair fell over his right eye.

My fingers twitched to reach for it.

I straightened my spine.

“I wrote to my father. I’m meeting him for a meal at the tavern tomorrow.”

The smile on Vincent’s face disappeared.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

I held up a hand.

“Yes, Vincent, I did. We have a bargain. I’m only following through on my side.”

His eyes shifted back and forth, though whether in thought or panic, I wasn’t sure.

“Do you…need me for anything? I never meant to put you in that position. Well, I did. Obviously,” he muttered.

“And I knew it would be painful. I just...” He sighed.

“I just didn’t know…I’m sorry.”

He seemed unable to finish a thought, but with his apology, my shoulders fell, and with them my defenses.

I thought he meant that he hadn’t known me when he’d made his original ask—hadn’t known the extent of Darius’s dismissal.

The same way I hadn’t known the extent to which requesting recommendations bothered him.

“Thank you for the offer. I don’t need anything. I’ll ask him, and we’ll see what he says.”

Vincent hesitated.

“May I meet you at the tavern after the meal? I don’t care about Darius’s answer. I want to ensure you’re well after the conversation.”

My whole body heated.

Of course, Seraphina and Evelyn would be there, but the idea that Vincent wanted to check on me warmed something deep inside.

I don’t know what that said about the rest of our arrangement, but I couldn’t stop my lip from tilting into a smile.

“That would be fine.”

At that moment, Ambrose cleared his throat to regain our attention.

“We…” Ambrose started, then glanced at Evelyn.

“We need to talk to you about a sensitive matter.”

“Me?” I pointed to myself, unsure what I had to do with this.

He nodded.

Evelyn stepped forward.

“We need to talk to you about magic,” she whispered.

“Do you want them to go?” Her gaze shot between Ambrose and Vincent.

“Magic? I don’t have any magic. Why would they need to go?”

She frowned, and I immediately knew I wouldn’t like the words coming from her mouth.

“I know you believe that.” She gave Ambrose and Vincent a sideways glance.

“But the magic on this door, well…it’s connected to something . I’m confident it’s your magic.” She ran her fingers through her hair nervously.

“Only your magic can open it.”