Page 85 of By the Orchid and the Owl
Sylvie sighed. “That about sums it up.”
Coen’s pleading gaze nestled into mine.It’s why we broke up,he said in my head.I should have ended it a year ago, when she physically attacked them during this same exact party… but she convinced me we belonged together. It wasn’t until she gave me an ultimatum—her or the twins—that I picked the twins.
Does she know?I asked, my gut suddenly clenching. If Emelle already knew about my own heritage, I couldn’t blame Coen for telling a girlfriend of three years.
No. She knows I’m childhood friends with Sylvie, Sasha, Terrin, and Garvis, but she doesn’t know anything about our childhood years at sea. Or how we have to suppress our other powers.Coen’s frown deepened.Which just goes to show how much I trusted her even when I thought I was in love with her.
I tried to keep my face impassive, even as a bit of awkwardness crept through me. After all our time together, all our kissing and exploring each other’s bodies and hanging out on the weekends, that word,love, had never even come up.
“I’ve got to go find Emelle,” I said, clutching the orchids tighter in my hands.
Coen didn’t miss a beat. “I’ll come with you.”
He’d probably rifled through my memories already, seen what had happened with her and Lander and Quinn. And for some reason, that bothered me, that he could just invade me on a whim.
“Sure,” I said, because I couldn’t think of a good enough excuse to say no.
You don’t have to have an excuse. If you don’t want me—
It’s fine. But can you stay out of my head for a bit?
I didn’t mean for my thoughts to carry such a… bite to them, but Coen’s usually tan face seemed to whiten as he nodded and followed me away from the others.
Where was Emelle? My dress swished coolly around my thighs as I scoured every corner of the room, winding between groups of people and avoiding the throng that Kimber had attracted entirely. Would she have really gone home?
“Do you want to check the roof?” Coen asked hesitantly.
I almost stopped. I’d forgotten that the Element Wielder roof, flat and gated, was practically made for stargazing… and escaping for a good cry.God of the Cosmos, please don’t let me find Emelle crying all alone. And please keep some sense in Lander’s head.
But I feared that if Quinn wanted to get back together with him, if that’s why she’d asked to talk, Lander wouldn’t hesitate. And Emelle would be… disappointed? Devastated? I didn’t know. Only suspected.
“Yes,” I told Coen, hating the dying screeches of the orchids. “The roof.”
He didn’t put a hand on the small of my back like I’d expected, but instead jerked his head toward the back of the room and led me to a spiral staircase covered in wreaths. Up and up we went, passing people lounging against the corkscrew railing, until we’d reached a wooden ladder shooting up through the roof.
“After you,” Coen murmured.
I clambered up awkwardly, one hand still clutching Emelle’s orchids, until I’d emerged onto the roof where those enchanted snowflakes grazed my cheeks.
Coen climbed up beside me, and we both looked around.
The roof was packed. Far busier than the foyer below, although nobody was dancing here. They were just clustered around braziers sporting flickering flame, drinking and talking to each other on chintz stools and chairs. The snowflakes that fell on the fires, I noticed, disappeared in a sizzling flash once they hit the flames.
I didn’t have to look twice for Emelle. As soon as an older girl shifted her weight forward, I saw her in the far corner—wrapped around a guy who was definitelynotLander. I could barely make out where her face ended and his began.
“Oh.” I fell back and looked at Coen. “I suppose she can do what she wants?”
There was no way I was about to break her and the guy apart. But Ireallyhoped she knew what she was doing, because if Lander saw her…
Not my business, I reminded myself. They might be my closest friends, and sure,maybeI’d been hoping they’d get together after all those side looks and blushes, but in the end it wasn’t up to me to steer the direction of their relationship.
Coen cleared his throat. He’d turned to lean against the wraparound gate.
“Have you ever seen Bascite Boulevard from a rooftop, Rayna?”
“No, I haven’t.” Wrenching my gaze from Emelle, I wafted to Coen’s side.
From up here, the street looked even smaller than it did from my bunkroom’s balcony. Stray partygoers swayed drunkenly down below, and I could see the bridge winking with starlight over the estuary.
