Page 79 of House of Marionne

“I haven’t thought past debut, to be honest.”

“You’re serious?”

My chest tightens, and I see the stern-faced Jordan who towered over me just yesterday. The Jordan whispering in the halls with Beaulah. And yet.

“I want to live on the beach one day, near the bluest ocean, in a modest house with small windows. Like really small and square with little planters outside of them. It probably sounds like a silly little detail I know, but . . .” It’s the one I’ve dreamt of since I was little. “That’s just how I picture it. My mom and I—” Nerves buzz through me, fluttering for a place to land. “That’s where we said we’d move one day. It doesn’t have to be anywhere fancy. It just—”

“Has to have the tiny square windows. I got it.”

“You’re patronizing me.”

“I’m not, really.” His lips crack a smile, the second one today, and I have to look away to not smile, too. “I think it’s incredible that you’re inspired by where you want to be. I’ve never really thought of things that way.”

My turn. “And what about your magic? Maybe I should consider something like that.”

He puts away his candy, his mouth arced in amusement.

“What? I’m serious. You said be open.”

“You don’t choose this life, Quell. It chooses you.”

Dead end. Yet again. “So you always knew you’d come here? To my Grandmom’s House, as a ward?”

“Headmistress Perl dropped me off at the Chateau’s gate with my things at fifteen.”

“That sounds mean.”

“I won’t hear insults about my House,” he says sharply, but something else glints in his eyes.

“I didn’t mean . . . My apologies.” I let the silence balloon.

“My parents pushed hard for me to get the position; Headmistress worked tirelessly to prepare me. I have no regrets. I was eager to do my part.” He looks away. “Am eager to do my part.”

“Is it hard being away from your home for so long?”

“Home is where you make it. There are many things I like about Soleil.” His gaze finds mine and heat rushes up my neck.

I grab my dagger and start working again to do something with my hands. It might have started as a lunch, but neither of us are even eating, really, and I’ve told him more in the last several minutes than I’ve told anyone in my life. My hands work faster over the blade, grasping for something I actually can control, and I accidentally knock my bag off the bench. One of my library books from school spills out of my bag. Its tattered edges have been taped together. I grab it, and so does he.

“I love her,” he says, noting the author.

“I didn’t take you for someone into novels in verse,” I say, letting him thumb through it. “You seem like a pure action and adventure kind of guy, no offense.”

He hands it back before folding his arms behind his head, biting away what I think is a laugh. “I just love stories,” he says, more amused than he’s been the whole afternoon. “Historically inspired is my favorite.”

“Because it’s the best of both worlds,” I say, working another stone in. “It’s storytelling, but with bits of reality.”

“Exactly. What else do you like to read?”

We talk about our favorite books until the sun has started its descent. I work through my stones at the same time as he offers advice. He even laughs a few more times. By evening, I’m somehow sitting closer to him on the bench, when my toushana flares in my chest. I stand. This is foolish.

“Was it something I said?”

“No.” It’s all of him. The way he looks at me. The way we move when we’re together. The way he commands the darkness of his magic without it consuming him entirely. His control, his focus, the thundering storm that wages in his eyes. The way this conversation only makes me want to be here longer. Know him more. The boy who would kill me if he could really see me.

“Then please, sit back down.” He asked me to trust him when we danced, but his stare asks even more of me now.

My fingers prick with an ache, my toushana reminding me it’s awakening. I fidget over my dagger, and a ruby-colored enhancer on top of it slips off.