Page 10 of Love & Letter Charms
Rosavyn blinked. “Hate you? Whatever for?”
“Because my magic has manifested and yours hasn’t. Because I’ll be presented tonight and you won’t. Because they’reall fussing over me when it should have been you first. Iwishit had been you first.” The words rushed out in a torrent now that the dam had broken. “I know what they’re saying about our family, about the Rowanwood bloodline weakening, and I know it must be the most hurtful thing in the world to?—”
“Lise, darling, I suspect it hurts you a great deal more than it hurts me.”
The ache beneath Aurelise’s ribs deepened and spread, the familiar guilt and worry for her sister expanding until her chest was so tight she could barely breathe.Inhale, she reminded herself.Exhale.
“But I?—”
“Stop.” Rosavyn’s voice was gentle but firm as she squeezed Aurelise’s hands. Her eyes—warm brown instead of the stormy gray that marked the rest of the Rowanwood siblings—moved over Aurelise’s face with such open affection that not even a shadow of resentment could be found in their depths. “Not for a single moment have I ever resented you for manifesting. Not once. My lack of manifestation is not your burden to carry. Whatever my magic is doing—or not doing—has nothing to do with you.”
“But the gossip?—”
“Gossip birds will always find something to screech about,” Rosavyn said with a dismissive toss of her head. “Last Season it was Evryn and Mariselle’s unexpected engagement and their scandalously over-the-top public affection for one another. The Season before that, it was ‘the half-blood who dared to think she could be part of proper society.’ And now it is the unmanifested Rowanwoods.” She shrugged. “Next Season, it will be something else entirely.”
Aurelise swallowed the secret fears that pressed against her throat, unwilling to give them voice. What if Rosavyn’s magic never manifested? What if the whispers followed her sisterfor years to come, narrowing her prospects with each passing Season? “You’re not even a little jealous?” she asked in a small voice, needing to be certain.
Rosavyn’s lips curved into a wry smile. “Oh, I’m terribly jealous of your hair. Mine never holds those pearl pins properly.” When Aurelise didn’t smile, Rosavyn’s expression softened once more. “Yes, I wish my magic would hurry up and make an appearance. But that has nothing to do with you. Your magic is beautiful. It’s perfectly, wonderfullyyou. I would never begrudge you that joy for even a moment.”
Tears pricked at the corners of Aurelise’s eyes. “That is a relief indeed. I couldn’t bear it if you resented me.”
“Well, fortunately, you don’t have to bear it.” Rosavyn released Aurelise’s hands and reached across the bed for the gloves Lady Lelianna had laid out. “The only thing I resent is the system that makes manifestation such a public spectacle in the first place. But that’s hardly your fault, is it?”
“No, but?—”
“Enough about my lack of manifestation,” Rosavyn said firmly, laying the gloves across Aurelise’s palms. “Tonight belongs to you, regardless of how much you may wish to shrink from the attention. You will meet it with the same quiet grace and poise with which you always weather these sorts of overwhelming occasions.”
“That is not the way I feel inside.”
“I know. But your music brings you closer to that serenity, doesn’t it? Even if only while the notes linger in the air.”
Aurelise allowed herself a small nod.
“Then anchor yourself there. When you’re standing in front of everyone, close your eyes as you always do, and let everything else fall away until there is only the music flowing through you. The rest of us will simply disappear.”
Aurelise smiled and nodded. “Thank you.”
A commotion from the sitting room drew their attention—new voices joining the chorus. Voices belonging to Evryn and Mariselle.
“We should go,” Rosavyn said, moving toward the door, “before Mother starts wondering what mischief we’re getting up to in here.”
Rosavyn opened the door, and their private moment of peace vanished like a popped bubble as the cottage’s cheerful chaos rushed in to reclaim them. Rosavyn crossed the room toward the newly arrived couple, while Marta approached Aurelise with the delicate crystal bottle of rose water. Aurelise extended her wrists one at a time, receiving a carefully measured drop on each pulse point as Evryn greeted his mother and Mariselle’s squeal of excitement rose above the chatter: “Can you believe it’s finally happening?”
“I know!” Rosavyn exclaimed in response. “I cannotwaitto walk on actual clouds!”
“And inside champagne bubbles!”
“Yes!”
The two of them grasped hands and jumped up and down in small, excited hops, completely disregarding any semblance of proper decorum. They fell against each other in a tangle of silks and laughter, their foreheads nearly touching as they dissolved into the kind of unrestrained mirth that always made Aurelise’s heart lighten.
“Ladies!” Lady Rivenna’s stern voice cut through their excitement. “Must I remind you that we are preparing to attend the High Lady’s Opening Ball, not a village harvest festival? Such displays are entirely inappropriate for young women of your standing.”
Both women straightened immediately, assuming expressions of exaggerated propriety that lasted little more thana moment before breaking into poorly concealed giggles behind gloved fingertips.
Sighing through her nose, Lady Rivenna turned with a small shake of her head, posture remaining impeccable, to survey the cottage’s disheveled sitting area. With a brisk sweep of her hand through the air, every cushion snapped to attention, while the woolen blanket that had slipped to the floor folded itself into neat thirds and draped itself over the back of the nearest armchair. Even at the end of a long day, Lady Rivenna moved with the same crisp energy Aurelise had seen her display during early mornings at The Charmed Leaf.
The family had expected her to begin transferring more responsibilities to Iris by now, but with recent developments, that transition had been postponed. Aurelise suspected her grandmother was secretly thrilled to remain fully in charge for a while longer. What would someone with Lady Rivenna’s inexhaustible energy do with herself if she weren’t orchestrating the daily theater of Bloomhaven society from her kingdom of teacups and gossip?
