Page 27 of Go Luck Yourself
“Purge your system of that attitude now, Kristopher,” Wren warns. “You won’t get—”
Saving me from another lecture on the importance of my ability to lie, Coal hurries down one of the wrapping staircases that frame the foyer. He’s got winter Holidays meetings this afternoon, and like my mix of St. Patrick’s Day and Christmas, his outfit is a diplomatic blend: a white shirt with a red sash, likely for St. Lucia; a blue suit jacket emblazoned with silver designs of candles, Hanukkah; and a sprig of holly in his breast pocket for Yule. There are other Holidays in the collective, but those are who he’s meeting with today.
“I’m here, I’m here,” he says, fastening the cuff on his jacket. “And look at me—very nearly on time.”
“Early, actually.” Wren waves at staff near the door and they begin setting up the necessary magic to travel. “We aren’t due to leave for another three minutes.”
Coal comes to a shuddering stop. “Wren. Are youmanagingme?”
“Nicholas, it is quite literally my job to manage you. Have you not noticed that you are always precisely on time, even when you claim to be running late?”
Coal’s mouth drops open. But I watch his mind work. And his mouth snaps right back shut.
I chuckle. “Well, damn. You’ve cracked my brother. Can you send me a list of the cheat codes you’ve figured out?”
“Of course.”
“There’s a wholelist?” Coal chokes. “Manipulation, in my own court! Thebetrayal—”
“Say your goodbyes.” Wren heads to the door, and Coal comes up alongside me.
“If she sends you that list, I want a copy.”
“Throw away that digital photo frame and I’ll share it.” He really did put that tinsel video in a frame after he pulled a copy off the tabloid site.
Coal blanches. “Never.”
“Then no list.”
“Traitor.”
“Gonna excommunicate me?”
“Shut up. Or what is it you posh Cambridge boys say? Piss off.”
“Be nice or I’ll make these talking points I’m working on for your next meeting just twelve bullets of how amazing your brother is.”
Coal frowns, the mood crashing. “You aren’t supposed to be working on anything for me right now.” He shoots Wren a look over my shoulder. “Kris is officially off any other duties while he’s in Ireland.”
I don’t bother arguing. I’ll keep doing what I’ve been doing and ignore him by working through Wren instead.
“Shit.” I shake my head. “It’s terrifying that you can do that.”
“Do what?”
“Become…this.The Christmas King, so quickly. It looks good on you.”
It does, but it’s been a slow rollout of publicizing it. Coal refused to let Wren plan a party announcing his new title until the winter Holidays collective is figured out, so once it all comes together, there’ll be some big shindig celebrating Christmas’s new direction from every angle. That doesn’t stop him from embodying his role now.
Coal grabs the back of my neck. “Andthislooks good on you. Being our ambassador. The more I think about it, the more it makes sense. Weshouldbe visiting other Holidays. There should be a lot more collaboration outside of established alliances, or at least awareness and understanding. And I do think you’re suited to this.”
The chasm of anxiety that’s been opening more and more since last Christmas closes a little bit. See? I have purpose still. I have things to contribute. I haveworth,goddamn it.
My smile comes more easily. “Don’t get mushy, I beg of you.”
“I’ll get mushy if I want to.” Coal squeezes my neck. “You said twelve bullet points of how amazing my brother is? Number one, how you helped me out last Christmas. Number two, how you’ve always been the one to help me out. Number three, how considerate you are—”
“Okay, Wren?” I turn away, face aflame. “I’m ready to—”
