Page 99 of Deals & Dream Spells
The phrase settled inside him with unexpected weight. All his life, he’d positioned himself as the redundant second son, the amusing but inconsequential spare heir, forever orbiting the periphery of his grandmother’s regard while Jasvian stood firmly at its center. He’d built an elaborate fortress of nonchalance around this belief, fortifying it with each perceived slight, each unintended oversight.
Yet here was his grandmother, her hair in disarray, her nightgown still visible beneath her hastily donned cloak, having abandoned all sense of propriety and decorum upon discovering his distress. She hadn’t paused to weigh his importance against other considerations or to question whether his troubles warranted her immediate attention.
She had simply come.
“There is something else I must confess, Evryn,” Lady Rivenna said, turning away from the vines and lowering herself onto the cushions of the window seat. “I saw this coming.”
Evryn blinked. “What, Mariselle’s collapse?” At the stern look from his grandmother, he hastily corrected himself. “LadyMariselle.”
His grandmother’s gaze grew distant once more, traveling across the room. “No. I saw …” She sighed. “A reconciliation. Of significant proportions. The specifics were hazy to me, but the moment you made your announcement about that supposed ‘soulbond’ and your engagement to Lady Mariselle, I knew. Iris knew it too. In fact, what she saw was a lot clearer than what I saw.”
Evryn found himself nodding slowly. “I recall the two of you exchanginga loaded look the moment I announced the engagement. I presume you’ve taught her your tea leaf reading ways.”
A small smile quirked his grandmother’s lips. “I have, though she has her own methods of seeing … possibilities.”
“Yet you still refused to support the match the moment you heard about it,” Evryn pointed out. “Why?”
“Nothing is written in stone, my dear boy,” she replied, her tone suggesting he’d missed something elementary despite never having been invited to decipher so much as a single tea leaf in his life. “What I glimpse are merely possibilities—doorways that may open before a person’s path. And I could not bear the thought of our family being joined to the Brightcrests after all this time, so I was determined you would choose a different door.
“Besides, I believed Lady Mariselle to be cut from the same cloth as her parents—selfish, manipulative, cold. She seemed the worst possible match for someone with your warmth and spirit.” His grandmother’s expression softened. “Beyond that, the idea of ancient magic forcing you into a union—even had it been with someone other than a Brightcrest—was something I did not feel comfortable supporting. Love should come from choice, not compulsion.”
She smiled then, a smile that was genuine and warm, and rose from the window seat. She crossed to where Evryn stood, took his hands in hers, and gave them a firm squeeze. “It brings me comfort to know that what exists between the two of you now has blossomed from your own hearts, not from any magic that would bind you against your will. And I must say,” she added with a spark of mischief dancing in her eyes, “I’m beginning to think I rather like Lady Mariselle.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Mariselle returnedto the cottage with Lady Nirella, and the moment the grandmothers disappeared into the kitchen with promises of a ‘proper tea, not whatever passes for refreshment in this abandoned cottage,’ Evryn caught her eye with a meaningful glance toward the garden door.
“Sneak outside with me?” he whispered to her, stacking several books with exaggerated care while Lady Rivenna’s voice drifted from the kitchen.
Mariselle bit her lip to suppress a smile, dutifully rearranging papers until the clink of cups and saucers suggested their grandmothers were thoroughly occupied. With a quick nod from Evryn, they slipped out the garden door and into the dappled sunlight that filtered through the canopy of trees surrounding Windsong Cottage.
They paused for a moment just outside, breathing in the sweet tangle of honeysuckle and wild roses that perfumed the morning air. In the distance, Dreamland stood waiting, no longer a ruin but a monument to possibility.
Freedom. That was what it smelled like, Mariselle thought. Freedom and possibility.
Evryn reached for her hand, his fingers sliding between hers with the easy familiarity of puzzle pieces finding their match.
A bubble of awed laughter suddenly burst from her lips. “They embraced!Evryn, theyembraced! They admitted theymissedone another! If I hadn’t witnessed it with my own eyes, I’d never have believed it possible.”
“I’m half convinced I never actually woke up this morning,” he replied, shaking his head in wonderment. “Perhaps I’m still asleep.”
“And my grandmother wants to help with Dreamland,” Mariselle added, her smile growing impossibly wider. “She wants us to succeed. She’s proud of what we’ve accomplished.”
Evryn squeezed her hand. “Of course she is. I’m beginning to think your grandmother is remarkably similar to mine—rigid as granite on the outside, but underneath, she’s essentially a spun-sugar cloud with feelings.”
Mariselle’s laughter rang out louder at that, and Evryn’s grin stretched wider. He tugged gently on her hand. “Come. I want to show you something.”
He led her along a narrow path between flowering bushes, his hand warm in hers. They passed a small tree laden with clusters of glossy crimson berries that gleamed like jewels. “Oh, I’m positively famished!” Mariselle exclaimed, reaching out and snagging one as they strolled by.
She had already popped it into her mouth when Evryn turned, his expression shifting quickly from surprise to concern. “Did you just—Mariselle, what if those are poisonous!”
She rolled her eyes, chewed, and swallowed. “They’re perfectly safe, you ridiculous man. Though I thank you for your concern. I realize you have precisely zero interest in things of a botanical nature, but I’ve actually had a look at some of Lady Eugenia’s journals. These are laughing rubies. They cause a slight tingling sensation on the tongue that feels like effervescence.”
Evryn’s eyebrow arched slowly upward, one corner of his mouth lifting in a way that sent heat crawling up her neck. “Effervescence on the tongue? Is that so?”
“It is,” she replied, trying to pretend she was entirely unbothered by that look of his. “Would you like to try one?”
“I absolutely would like to try one,” he said, his smoldering gaze never leaving hers.
