Page 66 of A Fractured Song

Marieke frowned. “Why are you under scrutiny?”

“There was a survey,” Narelle said shortly. “Never you mind about the details. The main thing is, we’re tense for our own reasons. I promise you’re safe here.”

“I know I’m physically safe,” Marieke said wearily. “But that’s not the same as being welcome.” She met Narelle’s eyes with a hint of pleading. “Is my songcraft really so offensive as to make me ineligible?”

“Ineligible?” Narelle’s voice was sharp. “What do you mean by that?”

Marieke said nothing, feeling her cheeks heat at her revealing comment. She wouldn’t speak so freely if she wasn’t too weary and overwhelmed to watch every word. But she didn’t entirely regret it. She was tired of playing games.

“Please Marieke, be frank with me,” Narelle said. “What is there between you and my son?”

“Nothing,” Marieke said, her color still rising but her gaze steady. “Because he’s fastidiously holding himself back. But if you want frankness, I’m crazy about him, and I think if he’d let himself, he would feel the same way.”

A flicker of something unreadable passed through the other woman’s eyes. After a long and silent moment, she leaned back, her expression softer than it had been before. The change was at odds with her words, however.

“I appreciate you being frank. I’ll do you the same favor. To answer your earlier question, yes. I’m afraid that your songcraftisoffensive enough to make you completely ineligible in the eyes of this family.”

Marieke winced, feeling as though she’d been suddenly slapped. It was foolish, because she was the one who’d asked the question. And Narelle’s manner hadn’t been harsh. But Marieke found herself fighting tears.

“Mother!” Zev’s voice made both women jump. His form was filling the doorway, and he’d clearly heard the last comment. “What are you doing?”

“Just having a heart to heart with Marieke,” said Narelle calmly.

Zev scowled. “It’s not your place to—”

“It’s all right,” Marieke cut him off. “I asked her a question, and I’m grateful for an honest answer.” She gave Zev a smile she knew must be unconvincing. “Is it all right if I go to bed now? You’ll probably be glad of the chance to talk with your family.”

“Of course you can,” said Narelle, giving an approving nod. “You’re exhausted, no need to stay up on our account.”

Marieke rose, picking up her rucksack from beside her chair and making her way to the doorway in which Zev still stood. “Let me past, Zev,” she said, her words soft.

“I’ll walk you up.” Zev’s voice and figure were stiff, but it gave Marieke no pleasure to see him offended on her behalf. Driving a wedge between him and the rest of his family was the last thing she wanted to do.

She didn’t protest as he led her up the stairs, however. When they reached the door of the room in which she’d stayed last time, he paused.

“Marieke, I…” He trailed off as she held up a hand.

“Not tonight,” she said. “I’m too tired for explanations or deep discussions. We can talk tomorrow.”

Zev’s tense expression softened slightly as he nodded. “Tomorrow.” The word was a promise. “Sleep well.”

Before she knew what he was about, he’d leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head. Zev turned away without another word, and Marieke retreated into her room, too overwhelmed by it all to even watch him go.

Chapter

Seventeen

Zev clenched and unclenched his hands as he walked swiftly down the stairs, trying to regain his composure. He would need it for the confrontation that was coming.

As expected, his family awaited him in the kitchen, three pairs of eyes fixed tensely on him. In a move Zev considered optimistic, his mother had laid out a simple supper. He doubted there would be much eating. She was seated, but his father stood on the far side of the table, and Azai was leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed.

“You all look very somber,” Zev commented, lowering himself into a chair across from where his mother sat. He took the chance to swipe some bread, his stomach eager. “Did someone die?”

“This isn’t a joking matter, Zevadiah.” His father’s use of his full name told Zev that he was in for a proper scolding. “Do you not understand the risk you take by bringing her back here?”

Zev took a moment to demolish the bread before he answered, unsure how much chance he’d get to eat once they really got stuck into him.

“I understand the risk,” he said at last, keeping his voice even. “With respect, Father, I think it’s you who doesn’t fully understand what it is you’re afraid of.”

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