Page 108 of Made

I gave her my best pleading look. “Please?”

“Not a chance,” she said. “But we can give you the same promise you gave Keir.”

ARGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

“You’re not going to give me a pass?”

Both shook their heads.

“It doesn’t do me any good for you to swear secrecy unless you’re better at keeping secrets than I am.”

“I can keep the secret,” Esme said, and I believed her.

“Sure. Why not?” Evie said, and I didn’t believe her for an instant.

“Evie…”

“Just kidding, Mom. I swear on Rhiannon’s zoo that I will never breathe a word of what you’re about to tell us.”

“You better mean it because I think there’s a place in hel reserved for queens who swear on unicorns and break their oath.”

She held up the Girl Scout salute. That was the one thing that would make me feel okay about telling. After all, the Girl Scout salute is the only thing in the universe more sacred and binding than a pinky swear.

After faithfully recounting what Keir had told me about the incident between Kagan and Maeve and how it had changed him, Esme took out a beautiful linen handkerchief with fine Irish lace around the edges and dabbed at her eyes.

“I hate her,” Esme said.

“Join the club.” Evie pursed her lips.

“You know there’s a twist in the middle of this story that makes it the stuff of legend,” I said.

That got Evie’s attention because she was on her way to a doctorate in Myths, Legends, and Folklore when she learned these things are real and became one with them. “Well, say it,” she ordered imperiously.

“Listen here, missy,” I said. “Some people may call you queen, but you’re still my kid. Don’t be a brat.”

Adding an insincere snigger to clearly being unabashed, she faked a, “Sorry. May we please hear your thoughts on the subject, Mother?”

Of course, I gave her a look of warning that she was quickly moving away from joke zone, crossing the impertinence boundary.

“Esme broke up with Kagan because she thought he was out of her league. Turns out she’s a demigoddess. Kagan had been wondering all along if he was good enough for Esme because he was burdened with the belief that ‘born’ is superior to ‘made’. It turned out that the two of them are circling very lofty airspace where they’re vying for power couple of the year.”

Yes. It was a little bit of an overstatement. Diarmuid and Evie were the unquestioned power couple. But it couldn’t hurt to point out that Kagan and Esme were both elites. No one could question that. With the possible exception of gods-cursed Maeve.

Quiet descended on our little trio as each retreated into reflection. We deliberately scheduled our get-togethers at a mid-morning time between breakfast and lunch when Molly’s was dead. That way, we could sit by the fire and chat openly without fear of being overheard. The silence that followed my insight made me aware, for the first time since arriving, that the fire was vying for attention.Snap. Crackle. Whistle. Pop.

“Well. It was just a thought,” I ventured, wishing I hadn’t verbalized my observation. “Let’s get to the important stuff. Like, what are you wearing?” I asked.

“Red velvet.”

“No. Not eating.Wearing!” I teased.

“Haha. I made a copy of a dress I really loved, but in deep red velvet. Maybe you’d call it crimson? Or scarlet? I’m not entirely sure I know the difference.”

Esme spoke up as if she’d been asked to clarify. “Crimson is deeper and darker with a purplish undertone. Scarlet is bright. Vivid. With just a hint of orange underneath.”

“Okay,” Evie said. “In that case, I’m saying it’s crimson. Just as glad because I don’t like the sound of scarlet. Reminds me of that Civil War movie you made me watch when I was thirteen. The one with the awful woman.”

“Gone with the Wind?”

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