been sensible,” I confess, uncrossing my arms while keeping my head held high, “but it’s too late now.”
She lets out a growl of frustration. “Gemma, you better hope you don’t make a fool of yourself. If the position is for house steward, then it must be the home of someone quite important. You’re going to arrive without any knowledge of whom you might be working for.”
I shrug and return to my chair, picking up The Governess and the Earl to pretend to read. “Perhaps that’s how my potential employer wants it.”
She stands before me, shaking her head. “No, this cannot be. We must seek more information. Surely, someone knows who lives on Whitespruce Lane.” She lets out a gasp, drawing my attention back to her. “We can ask Mrs. Aston! She knows all the town gossip.”
“No,” I say, closing my book with a thud. The thought of asking Mrs. Aston about anything, much less for gossip, sends my blood boiling. “We must speak of this to no one. I can’t risk Father finding out and trying to stop me.”
“But Gemma—” With another gasp, she takes a step back, eyes growing wide. “Wait. Whitespruce Lane. Mrs. Aston told me just today that wolves were spotted there!”
I roll my eyes. “Nina, she only said that so she could spread the gossip about Miss Weathersbee without seeming imprudent.”
“It could be true. Whitespruce goes through the woods, and wolves can be dangerous.”
“Wolves don’t just attack for fun,” I say. “Everything I’ve heard about Faerwyvae suggests this is a lush and plentiful land. If there are wolves, they aren’t some starving, rabid beasts. If any were spotted nearby, they were probably caught going about their daily business.”
Nina doesn’t seem at all placated. “But they could be fae wolves.” She says fae in a whisper, as if the word is a curse.
I give her a pointed look. “You know as well as I do that there are severe penalties for fae attacking humans here.”
“How are you not afraid?” She stomps her foot in frustration. “We still know so little about this isle and the creatures who rule here.”
To be honest, beneath my excitement and relief lies an element of fear. We spent our whole lives thinking the fae were creatures of myth. It wasn’t until we moved to Bretton, which is just across the channel from Faerwyvae, that we learned the mysterious isle is as real as the legends said. And many of the legends were terrifying, describing vicious wars, terrible beasts, deadly bargains. But there were a few accounts that seemed far easier to believe, describing two wars between the humans and the fae. The first ended in a treaty long ago, while the second ended just about twenty years ago after the fae protected the humans from Bretton’s armed forces. This resulted in Faerwyvae’s independence from the mainland, and its perimeter was sealed with magic.
So, yes, I admit I may be a little afraid. And yet, I know the difference between reality and fantasy. From what little experience I’ve had with the fae so far, I find it easier to believe they’re a race of people who ended an unjust war than monsters who steal children in the night.
Besides, at the end of the day, my determination outweighs my fear. It’s what draws me outside to get more books when I’d rather remain locked indoors. It’s what helps me sneak behind Father’s back, sending out job inquiries no matter how much I know he would disapprove. It’s what will take me into the woods tomorrow, seeking my freedom.
Nina must sense my resolve, for she clasps her hands together in a pleading gesture. “At least take an escort.”
“Are you volunteering?”
She pales. “Of course not! I’m not the crazy one.”
I open my mouth in a mock gasp. “You’d leave your dear old sister to face her doom rather than accompany me?”
She rolls her eyes. “At least take Susan.”
I release a resigned sigh. “Very well. I’ll take Susan.”
She gives me a satisfied nod. “Good. That way when the wolves get you, she can tell everyone where to find your body.”
I try to glare, but it turns into a laugh as she settles back into her seat. We fall into silence, and I pick my book back up. As much as I want to read it, my mind is brimming with thoughts, hopes, and possibilities.
This time tomorrow, I might have a job. Saints above, please make it so.
I lied when I said I’d take Susan. I may trust