Page 29 of Whispers of Wisteria (The Garden of Eternal Flowers #5)

Bianca POV

It’d been days since Mr. Richards’s house, and I’d been trying to find ways to keep myself occupied while I waited for my first job with Ms. Protean.

There was less to do, though, as I stayed on campus during the day to make myself more readily available. If she needed me, I’d be there.

I totally wasn’t a loser with no life.

But after I grabbed my first coffee, the lingering wrongness continued to eat at me.

I needed a particular type of wisdom.

But I hadn’t returned to the secret library room since our disagreement about my mental faculties and chaperones. However, that was in the past. He’d probably forgotten all about it.

This time I didn’t stumble when I stepped into the room.

He was already there and looked up from a red leather-bound book as I arrived.

“Oh,” he said, disinterested. “I see you’ve gotten over your tantrum.”

My face exploded with heat. He did remember! How could he not? I’d been so focused on his audacity that I hadn’t even said goodbye.

“I—I would still come e-even if you weren’t here,” I told him. I had to get over this fear. He’d solemnly sworn not to kill me. There was no reason to fret.

“I—I came to—to do research,” I told him.

He lifted a brow. “Why?”

I gripped the strap over my shoulder more tightly. “Be—because that’s wh-what libraries are for?”

The corner of his mouth twitched, but it wasn’t quite a smile. “Is that so?” he mused. “And what exactly are you researching?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but for some reason the band around my chest grew tighter.

My shoulders slumped.

“Just fae stuff…” I muttered, looking to the ground. Maybe I shouldn’t have come. I didn’t feel like fighting today.

I didn’t look at him as I crossed the room and climbed into a chair. I linked my ankles under my seat and turned my attention to the fireplace.

Who attended to this thing? And for a university, it sure seemed like a liability.

“Do—do you ever not have that o-on?” I asked.

He was watching me with a frown, which was pretty much his normal expression anyway. “Why are you out of sorts?”

“It-it’s not important,” I said. That wasn’t why I’d come here. I required his sage-like fae advice to put an end to this familial conflict. “I—I actually have a question.”

“Later,” he replied. “First, you will explain your situation.”

“Do—do I have to?” I asked.

He gestured vaguely. “You do if you want answers.”

“Oh,” I mumbled, touching my throat. “Fine.” I sighed. “I—I went somewhere that ha—had a lot of bad memories for me.”

His frown turned into a scowl. “Then why do it?” There was a dark note to his voice that made my stomach clench.

“Because—” A heat crept over my chest, and I could no longer look at him. “Everyone needed me.”

A heavy silence settled between us. I swallowed hard and forced my gaze upward, only to catch the edge of his disapproval. “You’re a Dubois,” he said.

“Y-yes?” I said, fighting back a shiver. “I’m married to Bryce, so—”

“Dubois do not put themselves at risk carelessly,” he replied.

I clenched my hands in my lap.

“It—it wasn’t care—careless and,” I muttered, my breath uneven, “I—I wanted to help.”

“And so you should,” he responded. “But as a female fae, you must be cognizant of your surroundings and health.”

“Sure,” I said, biting back a sigh. Annoyance broke the invisible weight that had been crushing my chest.

“This angers you?” he asked.

I slouched in my seat. “You sound like my great-uncle,” I said. “He keeps lecturing me. That’s what I came here to ask you about.”

“You don’t want to listen?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I mean… I don’t have to, right?” I shifted, trying to sound casual. “We’re a patriarchal culture, aren’t we? He’s on my mother’s side. I don’t think he can tell me what to do?”

“Does that mean you’d obey the patriarch of your paternal house? Or even the Dubois house?” he asked. “Since you’re ‘married’ into it.”

“Well, I don’t need to listen to Bryce,” I said carefully. “He’s not the patriarch of the Dubois.”

He frowned. “Still, he holds some authority.”

My stomach dropped. “Well—” I bit my bottom lip. “He and Brayden are the only ones I know.”

He studied me before asking, “You still haven’t met Declan?”

I clenched my fists in my lap. “N-not yet.” He lifted a brow, and I added, “But he isn’t the head of the house either, right?”

“Correct,” the man said slowly. “And, as he abdicated his role for another purpose, Declan is no longer the heir.”

“So, who is the heir?” I asked.

“Bryce.” He paused and added, “You do not wonder about the current patriarch?”

“I guess it doesn’t matter.” I shrugged. Bryce hadn’t seemed fond of our grandfather. “Bryce said he’s evil and’ll try to kill me.”

“Is that so?” he drawled. “I wouldn’t pay him any mind. Bryce can be emotional and stubborn. He most likely did something to bring scrutiny onto himself.”

I nodded—it was good that another fae could see it. But—

“I—I don’t get it.” I touched my chin. “If Bryce hates him so much, why would he want to be the heir?”

He pursed his lips, considering, before responding. “There must be an heir,” he said, inclining his head. “Should Bryce perish, Declan would have to return, or the role would fall to Brayden. Someone must protect the house’s inheritance.”

“What inheritance?” I asked.

“Every line has one. We fae keep this a secret from outsiders—do not speak of it to others,” he said. “It has been ordered by Mu himself.”

My mouth went dry, and I nodded.

“The strength of a house’s status is determined by a power passed through the paternal line,” he replied, studying his hands. “It is the family’s responsibility to protect it.”

“Is this like the rings?” I asked. He glanced at me, and I clarified. “My great-uncle said something about the Rite of Inheritance. Is it similar or…”

He waved his hand. “Nothing like that,” he replied. “Fae women have no place in such displays. The daughters,” he continued, linking his fingers beneath his chin as he studied me, “are the ones who inherit the spirit of the family’s power. It is a female fae’s birthright.”

So, father’s left their daughters a special power? Interesting.

“What’s that?” I asked. “And what if there are multiple girls born into a family…”

“It’s not common for a family to have more than one female,” he replied, still staring at me. “But in those cases, it goes to the infant who takes the first breath.”

I leaned back as he added, “The Dubois family is a noble family. Our females are rarer, but the spirit is stronger. Generations might pass between a daughter’s birth. There would be high expectations for anyone born into that line.”

I stifled a nervous laugh. “I—I guess it’s a good thing I’m only married to Bryce then…”

“Indeed.” He frowned, then said slyly, “Though it doesn’t answer why you appear to be without a chaperone.”

Why did he have to ruin everything?

And what was that evil look?

“I guess I don’t need one after all. Bryce must really trust me,” I said, pulling at the bottom of my sweater.

“It’s not a matter of trust,” he stated. “It’s a matter of neglect. You might only be ‘married,’ but you still carry the Dubois name. That, in itself, is a responsibility and risk.”

“Ah.” I twisted my hands in my lap. Maybe this was enough fae culture for the day? “It’s possible he doesn’t like me all that much?”

I didn’t want to fight.

Besides my other reasons, any chaperones I had would be so bored. Even I was bored, and I was the one living this.

“Hardly,” he replied. “He’s indulging you to the point where it’s becoming detrimental.”

I frowned. How condescending.

“Which means you matter more to him than you realize,” he added.

I didn’t know what to do with that. It wasn’t like he tried to fight Damen for me, poisoned himself for me, brought me cheeseburgers, rescued me from the hospital, got my rabbit, bought me the cute video game, gave me our mother’s ring, kept my photo on his phone, let me work with Gloria, wanted to take me for ice cream, etc…

I fanned myself. Why did the room suddenly feel so warm?

“What are you—” he began, but I moved to my feet.

“I—I need to go,” I told him, brushing off my skirt. “Someone might need me.”

He’d also stood, slipped past me, and grabbed a book from the shelves.

“Then take this,” he said, holding out a brown-bound book. It was heavy, and I almost dropped it when he gave it to me. “Read it.”

Was he giving me a homework assignment?

Oh well, it wasn’t like I had anything else to do. I’d add it to my list.

“O-okay.” I couldn’t make out the title. Something about gods and goddesses. “T-thank you.”

He didn’t say anything as I backed up to the door.

“I—I’ll see you later,” I mumbled, then left before he could respond.

I stood in line—hand to my heart—as my future sage’s words replayed in my head. There was a strange buzzing in my ears, and my thoughts felt fuzzy.

I didn’t understand everything he’d told me—and I wouldn’t pretend to—but I knew this: Bryce was someone important, and by extension, maybe me too, although not in the way people might think.

What was this inheritance that my sage had been talking about?

And how did this relate to my responsibilities as Mu?

What determined our priorities—blood or reincarnation? I would need to ask Damen.

The person in front of me stepped away, and I glanced up.

Finally, my turn. “Small chocolate latte, please.”

“Um, sorry,” the cashier replied, not sounding very sorry at all. “We’re fresh out of chocolate.”

I frowned. Usually, I’d never argue, but how could this be? I needed my fix. “What do you mean?” How could an establishment be so ill-prepared?

“You drank it all earlier.” He shrugged. “Do you want something else? We’ve plenty of decaf. You might like that.”

I stepped back, appalled at the suggestion. Decaf was for the weak.

And for people like Damen, who had issues with hypertension.

I wanted to wipe that mocking smirk off the barista’s smug face, but I couldn’t. Instead, I sighed. “Just a vanilla latte then, please.”