Page 104 of Reflections of Peonies
“I don’t want to meethim,” I said. “Brayden said he wants to help me, but I don’t care.” It wasn’t just that I was irrationally angry at him, but…
There was no way to mend that gap. I was too ashamed.
“He didn’t want me, so I don’t need him or anything he might want to offer me now. I’m fine relying on Damen for a little while,” I told her. “He gave me a room. It might take me some time, but I’ll figure out how to make it on my own.”
Ms. Protean nodded. “You’re talking about your father?Regardless of where you reside, Mr. Abernathy always keeps a place for his quintet in his home. But Declan—”
“Why do you do that?” I interrupted her. This would be the perfect time to change the subject.
She paused before she asked, “Do what?”
“You call Damen and the others with honorifics,” I said. “But you call the fae by their names.”
“I don’t address all fae by their names,” she answered, still watching me cautiously. “I addresscertainfae by their names depending on my relationship with them or that person’s connection to your mother. I was her godmother.”
I blinked at her.
“Of those you know of, it’d be you, Bryce, Brayden,” she began, counting off on her fingers. “Gregory, Caleb—” she glanced at him “—and Declan.”
I bit my tongue, and my shoulders tensed. She’d turned the conversation back to him!
“You will need to meet him eventually,” she continued. “He is your Paragon Er Bashou. However, you do also have Gregory. So, you are not entirely without a mentor. Plus, all the fae Proxies are your magical guardians at different rankings. For example, this one.” She finished her statement, gesturing vaguely at Mr. Weaver. “He’s your great uncle too. He was also supposed to train you.”
I eyed him as he glared at the floor. He appeared disgruntled, but I couldn’t imagine why he was so moody. I couldn’t believe I’d have been expected to learn from such a grumpy old man. What a nightmare.
“Youwere supposed to teach me?” I asked him, wrinkling my nose. It served him right—remarking on my lack of education and terrible family.
They said he was Unseelie. So, what in the world did he specialize in? Evil curses, like Xavier?
I could see it.
Mr. Weaver blinked out of his dark pout and crossed his arms. “You’re not so charming yourself.”
“Ignore him,” Ms. Protean said. “Caleb’s first reaction to a connection is aggression. He doesn’t open up easily, but he wouldn’t talk to you if he weren’t intrigued. Like I’ve told you before, we Officers will feel a pull to you at first sight.”
“We’re not connected at all,” Mr. Weaver protested. “Besides, I still don’t understand how she can be Mu. She doesn’t even know how to cook!”
“If that’s true, then do you really think Dr. Stephens doesn’t know who I am?” I asked, ignoring Mr. Weaver’s assessment of my culinary skills. “I’ve been around him multiple times. He introduced me to Damen in the first place.”
Ms. Protean frowned, exchanging a glance with Mr. Weaver. The ghost dropped his angry expression for one of contemplation.
“It’s difficult to say,” Mr. Weaver said, stroking his scratchy-looking chin.
“I think it’s safe to assume that he doesn’t know,” Ms. Protean mused, pressing her knitting project on the desk. She was frowning down at it, wariness in her voice. “He would make himself more involved if he was aware. When I first met you, something was holding back your presence, which has now been broken. Gregory is terrible at self-reflection. He probably hasn’t thought about it even if he did notice the change.”
Wow. Dr. Stephens didn’t sound very responsible.
“Don’t worry about Gregory.” Ms. Protean glanced back up. “He’s brilliant, but odd.”
“But you hate him,” I said.
The serene expression dropped from her face, and she picked up her knitting. “Indeed.”
“Do you know why Damen doesn’t want him to know?” Did it have anything to do with Mr. Weaver’s stewing as he floated about the room?
“I personally don’t care,” Ms. Protean said with a shrug. “But fae are very particular. They rarely allow women to cross into this realm. And historically, the majority of your Officers are men. He hasn’t said it yet, which surprises me, but I’m certain Caleb is having a spiritual coronary at the mere idea ofyou—Mu—being a female.”
“It’s too dangerous!” Mr. Weaver nodded. “She’s delicate. It’s not possible.”
