Page 31 of Potions and Proposals
Wincing, Lucy felt Rosie staring at her. So far she’d avoided talking about it with her friend, but she certainly couldn’t escape it now.
“I can’t believe two of my brightest students are going to be bound.” Mrs Khan had taught them botany. The older woman leant in close. “So you know, you have the support of the Khan family no matter what you decide.” She winked.
“It’s all rather sudden, but Benedict and I thank you for your support.” Her words remained steady and certain, but she was sweating. She couldn’t believe the news was spreading so fast. Mrs Khan’s wife worked at the flower market, which was run by Mrs Crawford. The news had probably been spread before she set the toaster on fire.
“Be sure to pass on our congratulations to Benedict. You do make a gorgeous couple; I think you’ll both do an excellent job heading the coven together.” Mrs Khan left with her bag secured on her arm.
“So, are we going to talk about it? Or are we going to keep dancing around the topic?” Rosie side-eyed Lucy once Mrs Khan was out of earshot.
“We can talk about it,” Lucy sighed. With heat swelling in her hands, she put down the book Mrs Khan had returned before it burnt to ash like the flowers out front.
“Only if you’re ready. When you didn’t bring it up, I thought it wasn’t true or that you needed time to tell me – but how the hell are you engaged to Benedict Matherson?”
Lucy appreciated Rosie for never pushing. It was probably because there was plenty in her own past she never discussed; Lucy had never asked her about her life in the woods with the wolves before she came to Foxford.
“Technically, I’m not engaged.” She picked up her iced tea, trying to calm down. The ice was a lame attempt at keeping her hands cool. The last thing she wanted was for the library, which she loved above all else, to go up in flames. She hoped Benedict wasn’t struggling as much as she was. “I wanted to be the one to tell you, but I was in shock about the whole thing. The coven wishes for me and Benedict to lead the coven together, so the town can benefit from our joint leadership and to stop us both from destroying the town with our petty squabbles.” She sounded far more rational than she felt, evidenced by the ice turning to water in her drink. She put down the cup, afraid of melting the plastic.
“They think forcing you together will magically make you get along? Sounds more like mutually assured destruction.” Rosie’s words echoed around the library. A few readers in the fantasy section stared at them, alerted by the sudden outburst. Lucy muttered an apology, and the readers went back to their books.
“Either we agree to the binding, or one of us will be voted out of town. And since it was my actions that led to that God-awfulreview in the magless magazine, I wasn’t risking rejecting their offer.”
“But how could Benedict even be nominated for your position? He’s as much to blame as you for the stunt,” Rosie pointed out.
“Technically, anyone can be nominated. It was never seen as necessary before.”
“But you won’t really accept an arranged marriage, right? You must have some plan?”
Lucy stared at her bag. She was currently trying everything to undo her family’s plan to stop the binding; she didn’t have time to plan her own.
“I have to. If there had been a vote then and there, I’d have lost. We both know I’ve neglected the town since I took over the library, and with the last prank threatening to expose the magical nature of our town to the outside world, saying yes was my best option to buy myself some time.”
Rosie let out a sigh. “Stuck between a rock and a hard place. When I found out, I thought you might’ve wanted to be bound to Benedict – not that he isn’t a tall drink of water.”
“A tall drink of water?” Lucy smirked, though she wished people would stop thinking she harboured feelings for him.
“What?” Rosie frowned. “I heard your Grams say it.”
“You really were raised with wolves.”
“No diverting the topic. There is no way Benedict isn’t scheming to get out of this. What about your opposing elements?” Rosie asked.
Lucy looked away. “Gwendoline says there’s a ritual that’ll make it possible.”
“At least you’ve plenty of time to reconsider your options. Engagements can last years nowadays.”
Lucy picked up a bunch of books from the returned pile to avoid answering.
“Wait. How long did they give you?” Rosie asked, following her so she couldn’t escape the conversation.
“All Hallows’ Eve,” Lucy admitted, stopping on the staircase. “The ritual will only work when the connection between us and those who came before is the strongest.”
“Gwendoline could be bluffing. What are the chances that we’ve never come across such a ritual in all our research?” Rosie was the best occult researcher in the town, if not the country. She could find a needle in a pile of needles.
“I wish she was, but she’s spent decades rebuilding the Matherson reputation. I doubt she would lie to the coven.”
“Decades or not, a Matherson is a Matherson. Being deceitful is in their blood,” Rosie grumbled.
“No one picks their family or the magic they inherit,” Lucy reminded her. She appreciated her friend’s support, but she didn’t like judging anybody for their past. “Benedict and Gwendoline can’t help being Mathersons, like I can’t help being a Hawthorne.”
