Page 45 of Growing Memories (Valley of Sylveren #2)

“A deal can be struck with the Rhellian government,” Ezzyn said. “There’s also the Restorers. This fits their mission statement perfectly.”

Calya was making notes on a fresh piece of paper as they talked. She glanced at Eunny. “You’re going to be busy, assuming this works.”

Eunny stared at the paper and Calya’s underlined groupings.

Helm Naval Engineering. The Rhellian government.

Potential funding from the Restorers of the Alliance.

Partner work with the appropriate departments at Sylveren.

Though she’d been thinking out loud for hours, Eunny hadn’t really processed the implications and what they would mean for her.

She hadn’t thought beyond having to willfully use her magic.

Which was significant, given her aversion, but it wasn’t the only substantial change.

She’d have to shepherd the new seeds to Rhell.

See them into the ground, maybe even help them grow.

What if the plants’ transition to new caretakers didn’t go well and she had to stay in Rhell for a while?

No more swinging by to help Auntie Yerina at the tearoom, at least not for a bit.

She’d have to close Song’s Scrap. No point in getting the repair café fixed up only to be put on hiatus for an undetermined amount of time.

And Ollas, what of him? He had his teaching and a life here in Sylvan. Eunny knew herself well enough that asking for long-distance was asking for failure.

She took the vial of dried leaves from her pocket, reaching with a whisper of magic, just enough to feel the inherent thread of light humming in response to her nudge.

To think that this had all started with a selfish wish to ease only her guilty mind.

Now she was considering getting tied up with multiple nations and big-time organizations, all to best her mother.

Well, and because it was the right thing to do.

Both—it was both, and if Eunny derived more satisfaction from one than the other, who cared so long as good was served in the end.

“Yeah,” she said, voice faint. “Things are going to have to change around here.”

“I’ve got messages to send.” Calya stood. “The Coalition will have to pass through Renstown. I’ll see if I can stall them.”

“Carefully, Caly. If Wembly?—”

“Stop mothering me, Anadae.” Calya stuck her tongue out at her sister. “I was born for this.”

“Brat.” Dae hugged her, ignoring her feeble struggle.

Eunny met Calya’s eye. “I’ll owe you one.”

“Don’t I know it. One of these days, I’ll come to collect.”

Once the door had closed again, Eunny snagged a pastry from the neglected tea tray. She scooted her chair next to Dae’s, and they began compiling a list of next steps.

A gentle shake of her shoulder roused Eunny from sleep. She groaned, her neck and back protesting as she tried to straighten. There was a weight about her shoulders. A blanket. One she didn’t recognize.

Blinking heavy eyes, she peered around the darkened room. “What time is it?”

“Almost dawn.”

Eunny spun around. Tried to, anyway. She was too old for this shit, falling asleep anywhere that wasn’t a bed—she tweaked her back in the process and only made a partial turn before she abandoned the attempt and filled the air with a chorus of “fuck” through gritted teeth.

“Here.” A mug of fresh, steaming tea was placed in front of her.

She took a greedy sip, moaning in appreciation as a hint of lemon zipped across her tongue.

She dipped her finger inside the mug, letting it kiss the surface as she called up a dot of light.

Just a little something to ease some of the tightness from her muscles.

The next sip helped, and by the third swallow, she felt vaguely human again.

The small bit of magic wasn’t much, but it had come back to her, still second nature even if its potency was lacking.

Though the sleepy haze was clearing, her mind was far from empty. The restless feeling was back, the call of the last plant and its need for her magic to complete its life cycle. The thought made a hum of magic dance across her fingertips.

More awake now, she remembered that she wasn’t alone.

“Nev?” she said, goggling at him. A soft smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, but tension remained. Quiet hope and apprehension in equal measure cast a shadow on his face.

The old guilt rose up again in Eunny’s gut, doubt restraining her newfound resolve as some of his hesitation rubbed off on her. “Where— When…”

She’d fallen asleep in the back room. Dae was stirring from where she’d slept, similarly hunched over in her seat at the table. Ezzyn was gone.

“A little while ago. Ezzyn filled me in,” Ollas said, handing Dae a mug of tea. “We thought it best to give you another hour.”

“Before?” Eunny rubbed her eyes, mind clicking along a beat behind. “Why are we awake at this godsforsaken?—”

Almost dawn. The windrunner schedule from Renstown across the lake would have the early ones in around daybreak. Bioon was coming.

Her eyes met with Ollas. “Oh, shit. I’ve— We’ve got to go.” She looked at Dae. “The cutting.”

Dae blinked a few times, then sat bolt upright. “I’ll find Zhenya.” She stumbled from the room.

Eunny moved to follow, then stopped. Ollas was right next to her, so close she could feel the tension as he held himself back.

“Nev,” she whispered. “I— I’m so shit at this.

I’m sorry.” Godsdamned mother fuck . Eunny knew that she had flaws, that serious relationships might as well be foreign concepts to her.

She knew they’d have plenty of “couple” things to work out.

Most of all, though, Eunny knew she was done being a chickenshit about how much she wanted Ollas.

Eunny’s shoulders jerked with a weak laugh as she gave him a small, nervous smile. “I’m sorry, and I know there should be more and we should have an actual conversation like grown adults and be, you know, responsible or something?—”

Ollas gently cupped her face, relief making his voice crack as he murmured, “It’s okay.”

“It’s not!” Eunny insisted. “But the proper make-up will have to wait till later, because I have to go possibly commit some crime and stop my mother.”

“Ezzyn mentioned that.” Ollas rested his forehead against hers. “I’m here. Whatever you need, I’m here.”

“What about your job? This will probably go against your contract with Sylveren?—”

“Eunny.” Ollas silenced her with a kiss. “I made my choice.”

Her lips reached for him again even as she tried to protest. “But?—”

“It’s who I am.” He stepped back, holding on only to the tips of her fingers. He offered a smile, but it was a wistful one. Sportsmanlike, admitting defeat with grace. “I choose you. I love you, Eunny, and I’d choose you over a job every time.”

“Ollas.”

He shook his head. “Don’t. You don’t have to say anything, Not now, never, if you don’t want to. Just know that’s how I feel. Always have.”

Gods all break. It was too early for her to be feeling so many things and have so many important decisions to make when she didn’t have the time or brain power to process any of them to the fullest.

For some things, she had to go on instinct.

Eunny slid her hand forward so that it firmly held his, lacing her fingers through his own.

“You know, if people are going to call you a hero”—she smoothed the frown lines from his brow—“we might as well make the most of it. I don’t need rescuing, but I could use your help. Will you keep me safe, Ollas?”

Eunny saw a new smile light his face—beaming, one might call it—for only a second before his mouth was on hers again.

A tremble ran through him, relief and delight and echoes of the hunger she remembered from their first kiss the night she’d moved into her own place.

He wanted her, of that there was no doubt.

And, for the first time, Eunny let herself bask in the realization without a hint of shame.

She let her fingers slide through his curls and hold him close because he was hers .

“What do you need?” he murmured against her lips.

“What did you do with the last cutting?”

“It’s in Trunk. I wasn’t sure what— If you were coming back.” He grimaced. “I figured the thieves already thought they got everything and wouldn’t come back, but I stashed it in the rear antechamber.”

“Then that’s where we need to go.” She tapped her temple, as if she could almost grab hold of the pulling sensation. “Can you feel it, too?”

Ollas nodded slowly. “The bloom window. It’s fading.”

Dae dashed back into the room, a piece of paper clutched in her fingers. “Calya says your mother is coming in early.”

With Ollas in tow, Eunny headed for the door. “Dae, can you find Zhen? Forget about helping with the seeds, we’ll figure something out.” She jerked her thumb to indicate Ollas. “Zhen will know about getting the right dirt to get us to Rhell.”

“Soil,” Ollas whispered.

“Got it. Ez can help.” Dae ran off.

Eunny was nearly out of the tearoom when she saw her aunt replacing stock at the front counter. Leaving Ollas to wait, she approached Yerina.

“Auntie,” Eunny said quietly. “I need to ask you something.”

Slowly, Yerina turned around, her normally cheery face now solemn.

“I know we don’t agree on… on anything to do with my mother,” Eunny said. “I never should’ve said she hates you. I didn’t mean it. I just… I don’t know why you try so hard for her, either. She’ll never?—”

“She’s my sister. That still means something to me,” Yerina said, her voice soft. She reached out to hold Eunny’s hand. “But that’s my decision. It shouldn’t influence how you feel about her, or how you want your relationship with her to be.”

“I hate her.” Eunny’s lip trembled. “I’m sorry, but I do. I’m sorry, Auntie.”

Yerina’s face softened, grief and love in equal measure in her smile. “Don’t be. You get to decide what that relationship is worth.”

“You won’t be mad at me?” Eunny said. “Or think I?—”

“Never, Eunji.” Yerina hugged her, so tightly that her back cracked. “Oh, I’m sorry, dear.”

“No, I think you got it back how it’s supposed to be,” she wheezed. “Listen, Auntie, if my mother comes here looking for me…”

“I can’t lie to her.”

“I know, I just… If you could?—”

“But I can ask her to listen,” Yerina continued. “I haven’t asked anything of her in a long time. That won’t be worth much”—her smile turned sad again—“but it could be a little.”

“Good enough for me.”

Kissing her aunt on the cheek, Eunny raced back to Ollas and pulled him out the door.