Illusions of Fate

“Who are you talking to?” Finn asks, and I turn to find him walking several steps behind me, swinging his cane in time to his pace. Sir Bird is on his shoulder but hops to mine.

I abruptly change directions and head instead for Eleanor’s house.

“Eleanor’s is rather a long walk. Shall I call for my carriage?”

I whirl around and Finn nearly crashes into me. “Shouldn’t you be doing something productive with your time instead of following me around? I thought you were figuring out how to get your shadow back!”

“I’m hungry. Are you hungry?” He reaches up to take off his hat.

I stand on the tips of my toes and slam it back down. “Leave that on!” I realize a second too late that this position puts us face-to-face. I haven’t been this close to him other than in immediate peril situations.

This feels far more perilous.

His smile spreads. “I’ll leave my hat on if you’ll have supper with me and allow me to walk you home.”

I scowl and let go of his hat, backing away to a respectable speaking distance. “I’m safe. You have no further obligations.”

“Is that so?” He nods toward the roof of the school. My stomach flips to discover it is lined with large black birds.

They are watching me.

Sir Bird shifts closer to my neck, a low, comforting sound in his throat. I stroke his feathered head but cannot look away from the silent sentries.

I swallow hard and clench my gloved hand. “Supper then.”

“Marvelous idea! Should we eat in the hotel dining room?”

“Oh, no! I couldn’t. I’d be mortified.”

He frowns. “Why?”

I shake my head. It would be utterly humiliating to sit while being served by the same people I work—worked—with.

“We’ll order up to your sitting room, then.”

“Is that appropriate? I mean, for us to be there together, alone.”

He puts a hand over his heart, expression shocked. “Why, Jessamin, you’d try to take advantage of me?”

I scowl and kick his cane out so that he misses a step. He laughs.

“Fine. We’ll order up.”

Thankfully, it’s Ma’ati who delivers our meal. She beams at me, curtsying and keeping her eyes low. Finn thanks her profusely and tells her that the cook is exemplary. On her way out, she winks and I want to strangle her.

I stab sullenly at my food. All the times I helped prepare and serve it has made it far less palatable than I thought it would be.

Finn clears his throat but I interrupt him before he can speak. “And another thing,” I say, jabbing my fork through the air. “This ability is utterly wasted on the gentry. As far as I’ve seen, all you do with magic is make it dull and uninteresting, or utterly horrendous. It would be better off in the hands of more creative users.”

He has the audacity to laugh. “I’m sorry magic is such a disappointment.”

“It’s very disheartening.” I try my hardest not to smile. “I’d do more exciting things if I had it.”

He leans back, toying with his silverware. “Such as?”

“I don’t know. I’d make this accursed country warm, for one. Blast away some of this dreadful gray that seeps into my bones and makes me cold all the time.”

“You think us far more powerful than we actually are.”