Page 32 of Growing Memories (Valley of Sylveren #2)
Chapter Eighteen
Feeling too restless for the confines of her apartment, but not wanting to run into Ollas again just yet, Eunny made the trip into Sylvan. She hadn’t had a quiet evening at the Mighty Leaf in a while, and with luck, she’d get to spend some more time with Yerina as well.
Luck wasn’t with her. Though the tearoom was relatively quiet, with only a few tables and cushions occupied by customers, one such person was appearing with disturbing regularity.
“Eunji, won’t you sit with me?” her mother said, gesturing to the empty chair across from her.
Eunny cast a desperate look around the room, but there were no easy escapes at hand.
She considered leaving, politeness and basic human decency not being things she fretted over when it came to dealing with her mother.
But then, out the corner of her eye, Eunny watched Auntie Yerina pause at the door leading to the back room.
Her whole frame seemed to swell with a breath of hope, and then she was gone again.
Probably to send Dex or one of the other servers out to check on the few customers, with instructions to give mother and daughter a wide berth.
Not trying to hide her lack of enthusiasm, Eunny flopped into the proffered chair. “Why are you such a bad sister to Auntie Yerina?”
“Excuse me?” Bioon said, brows rising as a condescending smile formed on her lips.
“Skipping out on the parenting thing, fine, I don’t care. Best thing for us to only see each other in small doses. But Auntie Yerina tries so hard for you, for us to have some semblance of a family. You don’t even write her?—”
“I know you love to paint me as the villain, Eunji, but consider this: Yeri isn’t some sweet, innocent being snubbed by her evil sister. Did it ever occur to you that she acts out of guilt?”
“For what?” Eunny said, her suspicion plain.
“This shop was supposed to be ours, once. She went behind my back, made it in her own vision. Is it really so surprising I don’t enjoy coming here and seeing what could’ve been mine too?” As if remembering herself, Bioon added in a silky tone, “Ours. What we could have done together.”
Eunny glanced around the Mighty Leaf, taking in its indoor water feature and the way the decor blended designs from the eastern Radiant Isles and the western influences of Graelynd and the Valley.
It was warm and inviting, offering quieter nooks to relax or study along with tables and booths for those looking to be more social.
A wall near the front counter offered prepackaged teas in a variety of classic favorites and more limited blends to suit any palette.
The same could be said for the variety of confections and baked goods Yerina sourced from locals or made herself.
One of the seasonal menus lay on the edge of their table, written and illustrated with Zhenya’s color-changing inks.
Everything about the shop sang of its place within the town, and of the community itself.
Of personal touches and sentimentality. Bioon possessed no sense of community or sentimentality.
“Thank the Goddess she did that, then,” Eunny said at last. “You really expect sympathy from me? Or belief? You couldn’t be bothered to parent, so what chance did a teashop have?”
Bioon gave her a sour look. “I got you the best tutors, admission to elite schools, and work opportunities. You’ve turned your nose up at everything I’ve given you.”
“Best for you .” Eunny rolled her eyes. “ Your idea of a model daughter, doing all the flashy, trendy shape-mending for Graelynd’s elite. I’m not even good at that kind of detail work. How well would that have gone over when you trotted me out at parties?”
Bioon was silent for a moment, lips pursed. “I did what I could to set you up for a good life. My connections make?—”
“About your connections,” Eunny interrupted. “You want to be all involved in the elective’s work? Explain to me why the Coalition went in and messed with the Sentinels’ records from the delegation.”
“You’ll have to be more specific,” Bioon murmured. “What documentation are you interested in?”
“The trade delegation. The records of what the Sentinels recovered during the rescue. I’ve seen the logs. They’re trashed, signed by some Coalition scribble. Why sign stuff over to yourself and censor the hell out of it in the first place?”
“Likely because the delegation involved confidential terms and items beyond the purview of the Sentinels, seeing as they aren’t a Graelynd institution,” Bioon said with a dismissive wave of her hand.
“I can’t imagine what use those would be to them or you.
Unless this has some bearing on the elective? ”
Eunny mimed her mother’s dismissive gesture. “Who can say? Hard to know when we haven’t been able to read them.”
“I’m sure there’s nothing of consequence in the Coalition’s assets.”
“Oh? I seem to recall you dragging me along to assess the healing properties of plants that were part of the negotiations. And seeing as you don’t have magic, is it really for you to say what is or isn’t relevant to a class whose focus is to make magical plants?”
Bioon leaned forward. “So, the healing cultivar is progressing. The last reports didn’t mention anything about this side research.”
“We’re not sure this applies to the elective. The conditions are”—Eunny shrugged—“delicate.”
Her mother said nothing, but Eunny could practically see the calculations going on behind her eyes. Weighing Eunny’s words against whatever information she possessed of the Coalition’s dealings. Trying to decide the value in revealing more, for the Coalition gave nothing away for free.
“Delicate, you say,” Bioon said. “That seems like the sort of work that would require magic. I take it yours is returning? How wonderful.”
“I didn’t say?—”
“How else would you know that something may or may not apply to the elective?” she asked. “And you mention the appraisals you performed during the delegation. How very specific.”
Her mother’s smile turned Eunny’s insides cold. She rallied quickly, pasting the fakest smile she could muster onto her face. “Mundanes can work with imbued materials, Mother. It’s normal to feel a resonance depending on the strength of magic.”
“If you say so.” Bioon’s voice lowered, darkening as she murmured, “You’d do well to remember that the Coalition is not to be trifled with. If there’s anything you think my colleagues should know, I’m listening.”
Eunny stared at her mother, both impressed with and disturbed by the way Bioon could deliver a threat with a humoring smile on her face. “Nothing comes to mind,” she said.
Bioon’s mouth twitched as if she were on the cusp of saying more, but then her gaze shifted. She looked past Eunny and lifted her chin in acknowledgement.
Yerina approached, eyes darting between sister and niece. “Everything all right? Bi, would you like some of the huckleberry teacakes for?—”
“No, Yeri, my tastes have changed.” Bioon stood up, ignoring her sister’s pained look, and glanced down at Eunny. “Do tell Ollas that I expect thorough reporting if the Coalition is to entertain any record requests.”
She left without waiting for a response.
Probably for the best, since all Eunny came up with on the spot was mostly cursing.
After chatting with her aunt for a bit, neither of them in the most talkative of moods, she trudged back toward the school.
Unease itched beneath her skin as she ran through the conversation with her mother, but she couldn’t pinpoint the exact cause.
Bioon suspected Eunny’s inquiries were for the elective, which wasn’t true, but would that cause trouble for Ollas and Rai?
And the way she’d hung on the notion of Eunny’s returning magic…
None of it boded well for Eunny being able to keep such things a secret.
Especially not with Zhenya’s grim revelation about the delegation plants and the ticking clock of their bloom cycle, the new problem of them starting to shrivel and die without magic.
Eunny massaged her temples. She remembered the seeds from the delegation.
How they’d seemed to absorb her magic when she tested them for any innate healing properties.
Had she already started the imprinting process back then?
Been the seeds’ first taste of magic? Despite Zhenya’s theories of the plants transferring to any source of light magic, Eunny doubted the likelihood of that.
Worse, a curl of possessiveness rose up at the thought of their plants, hers and Ollas’s, being handed off to someone else.
“You’ve got to get the fuck out, Eun,” she murmured to herself.
Get the plants to bloom. Make more for Dae. Then get out before she fucked up and did something absolutely unallowed… like fall for Ollas.
She’d break his sweet heart, if she had to. And all without spilling the secret of her magic.