Frivolous.
I ignored my mother. She was not allowed to have a say in my outfits. Not anymore.
Now it was time to start my day, hopefully with a trip to the Council and to meet my dad. I knew walking into the lion’s den, so to speak, was dangerous, but I didn’t care. I was so close to finding out who I was. And just because I went to a building didn’t mean anyone actually had to know my true identity. I could still keep that part of me a secret.
With resolve in my heart and a clear path before me, I headed out the door.
“Breakfast?” Mallory asked as I walked into the lounge room. She stood with an apron wrapped around her waist, her colourful hair twisted up and sitting on top of her head with errant curls framing her face. She didn’t look like she had lost any sleep. In fact, I might even say she looked more well-rested than I did.
Without waiting for my reply, she flicked her wrist. A spread of fresh fruit, croissants and porridge appeared on the dining room table, steam rising from the porridge and juice trickling out of the fresh fruit.
My stomach rumbled, betraying me.
“That would be lovely, thank you.” I sat down and inhaled the scent of freshly baked bread. “This is amazing.”
Mallory smiled, her eyes sparkling. “I do like to bake.”
We began to eat. Mallory asked questions about Mother, but I tried my best to be generally vague in my answers. There was something about her, that wouldn’t let me fully trust the woman. It wasn’t as though my mother was offering me any sort of explanation for my intuition, either. Every time I touched the locket, it was warm. Even when she had the opportunity to tell me something about Mallory when we were alone, she hadn’t.
Why?
Was I wrong about Mallory? Or did Mother want me to figure this out on my own? Or maybe... maybe Mother didn’t know? Maybe Mallory had changed after Mother isolated herself.
“So how has your mother been for the past twenty years?” Mallory asked before bringing the teacup to her lips.
“She was... great.” I frowned, setting my spoon back in the small bowl of porridge I had made myself. “I suppose. That’s a hard question.”
“We all missed her when she went missing.” Mallory shook her head, pursing her lips.
I shifted with unease. I had to turn this questioning around. It made me feel helpless. I needed to be the one with more power in this conversation.
“Tell me about that,” I said, making sure I sounded hopeless. “Mother rarely spoke about her life before she moved us out of the realm. We asked about it all the time, and she’d just shut us down. So, please Mallory, tell me about this world. Do you know why my mother left?”
I opened my eyes big and wide and focused on Mallory. I never lied like this before. I hoped it was working.
“Well, to be honest, none of us ever knew why she left,” Mallory responded with a nonchalant shrug. She took another sip of tea. “We had theories of course...” She let her voice tail off. I held my breath, unsure if she would continue.
“Tell me,” I said. I hated that I had to beg, but, at this point, I didn’t have much of a choice. If I wanted answers, it was becoming apparent that I had to play the game. She needed to think I was wide-eyed and bushy tailed, completely ignorant of this world. Which I was. But she needed to believe it.
Mallory glanced down at her cup of tea. I couldn’t tell if she was debating whether to say anything at all or if she was picking her words carefully. “Well, some people said it was a case of unrequited love. A love affair gone wrong...” Mallory’s gaze lifted and she pinned me with a stare. I wanted to squirm under her gaze. I clutched at the locket, hoping for strength. “How old are you Ava?”
I could feel the tingle in my locket, and although I couldn’t hear her voice, I knew what she was telling me to do. Lie.
“Twenty-one.” I cleared my voice, making sure I locked eyes with her when I said it. I wasn’t very good at lying – Mother knew me too well to let me lie so there was no point in trying. Now, I needed to get good at it fast. “Why?”
Mallory looked almost disappointed with my answer. She was expecting me to tell her I was twenty-three, because my mother had disappeared twenty-four years ago. I wasn’t sure if she wanted the gossip or if she wanted validation for one of her own theories. In the end, it didn’t matter what she wanted. Mother told me to lie, which meant whatever the reason Mallory wanted the information, it wasn’t good.
“And your father?” she asked, taking a juicy strawberry and chomping on it.
“He was a banker,” I said quickly. I wasn’t sure how I found these words but they were jumping at the bait to get out and help me with my story. “He died in a car accident a few years ago.”
I kept my gaze as honest as possible. As open, and genuine as I could.
Mallory’s face fell and her mouth twisted. “Oh... he’s a human?” She sounded confused by this. I understood – how could I be magic with a human father?
“Yes... why? Is that bad?” I didn’t know much about the relationship between humans and witches. I hadn’t associated with many. Even our servants, who my mother had conjured up, were magical beings and could do magic if need be. Had I lied myself into a corner without any way to back out?
Mallory sat back in her chair and crossed her arms over ample bosom. “Not bad... so to speak,” she said slowly. Her head