Changeling (Sorcery and Society Book 1)(70)

I hated Mary.

I didn’t think it would be possible, but at this moment, I honestly, truly, hated my sister. As much as she claimed not to resent me for my weakness, for having to watch out for me all of these years, I’d spent just as much time captive to her jealousy, her “sensitivity,” her constant need to be assured that she was the prettiest girl in the room, that one day, if she was just patient enough, Owen Winter would be hers.

She’s destroyed both of our lives over a boy.

My eyes drifted shut as the calming warmth of Mrs. Winter’s spell seeped into my body. I tried to concentrate on the bright spots of the evening, Alicia’s excitement, Ivy’s face when Owen asked her to dance, Gavin… Gavin McCray was definitely a bright spot.

I shoved the image of Gavin’s smile away from my mind’s eye. I didn’t need to think about Gavin right now. Obsessing over a boy was what got Mary into this state in the first place. I had more important things to worry about than Gavin McCray, like being dissected by Guardian Enforcement. Surely, the possibility of being dissected was more important than some boy’s perfect smile.



My mirror remained clean and clear of any messages from Ivy or Alicia.

Mrs. Winter’s attempts to brazen her way through the wake left by my disastrous debut were not appreciated by society at large. She sent summons to her usual minions for afternoon tea. They were ignored. Expected invitations to the Benisse’s New Year’s Eve Ball were not forthcoming. The parlor was silent, empty of callers and messengers. Gavin’s regular letter did not arrive, no matter how many times I willed the ringing doorbell to mean a forthcoming note to me.

It was as if Raven’s Rest was holding its breath, waiting to find out just how badly Mary’s tantrum had impacted us all. Mrs. Winter was so distracted, she’d forgotten to renew the wards on the kitchen after the party, so I was able to walk right through the door and see my mother. I sat at the scarred worktable, struggling to fight the skirts of my lilac day gown under the tabletop. Mum didn’t say one word about not being allowed to see me or talk to me. She simply poured me a cup of tea, set some of her blueberry scones on a plate and brought them to the table for me.

While she doctored her own tea with milk and honey, I stared around the kitchen. I couldn’t believe how small the room seemed now that I’d spent time in bigger accommodations. How had all three of us managed to work in such a cramped space? But it was nice to see something was still the same. The same old smoke-stained stove. The same copper pots with the ruthlessly scoured bottoms. Mum’s special blue-glazed mug that Papa had given her for her birthday.

I did notice that Mum was digging into the scones without one care for them being special “family” teatime treats. That was different.

“How are you?” I asked.

“Frightened,” Mum said. “Mary was sent home, the moment she was dismissed. I had to stay to take care of things for the party. When we came home, she was gone. She ran away and no one’s seen her since. I didn’t want to come to work today, just in case she came home, but your father insisted.”

Mum’s lip trembled. “We could have found her another position, maybe moved her to another city. South, where my cousins live. Maybe even Wales. But it wasn’t the position she was angry about, it was that boy. She couldn’t stand the idea of not seeing him every day, while you…”

She paused and took a sip of her tea, cheeks flushing.

Frowning, I tried to find it in my heart to worry about Mary, to wonder where she was, but I was still so angry with her. I could only shake my head.

“Mum, I’m sorry this happened. But Mary made this mess herself, and I can’t fix it.”

“I know,” Mum said quickly. “I know we let Mary get away with too much. We were always so worried about you, and Mary was such a pretty, easy child. I thought if I gave her enough time, she would grow out of her feelings about Mr. Owen. I thought it was just a phase. I never thought it would go this far. What’s happened isn’t your fault, sweetheart, none of it. I’m sorry I reacted the way I did in the parlor that day. I was just so scared.”

“I know,” I said. “And I can’t say I would have handled it differently, if I were you. I just wish you had told me.”

“Well, it wasn’t as if there was a handbook for what to do when your child is born with magical powers she shouldn’t have.”

“Mum, I don’t know what’s going to happen to me now. There are rumors circulating about me and I could lose this new life I’ve tried to build before it even gets started. I might be able to come home-”

“No,” Mum said firmly, reaching across the table and squeezing my hand. “You were meant for greater things than working in this kitchen until you die, letting some rich family decide what you do with your life. You do your best to stay at that school, finish your education. And if that’s not possible, find some other way to make your place in their world.”

“But what about my place in your world? With Mary gone, you and Papa are all alone and you’ve never… You don’t… Mum was it my fault? The way we are? You and Papa not talking to each other. Papa’s drinking. The distance between us. Is that because I was born the way I am?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Mum’s mouth flopped open, but I noticed that she didn’t deny it. “Who’s to say? Our life isn’t easy, knowing that you’re never your own person, that there are so many limits. And maybe you being born with magic did push us all apart, but the cracks were already there. I didn’t treat you the way I should have, and I’m sorry for that. But no, this isn’t your fault. You did nothing wrong. You didn’t ask for this.”