Evermore Academy (Evermore Academy #3) - Audrey Grey Page 0,128
the while, my brain whirs and spins, frantic to find a way out of this. My magic still doesn’t work. I’m cut off from my friends, my mate—anyone on my side.
The few times last night I asked my mother to help me, she changed the subject. My escape plea was rebutted with how lovely the weather would be for the ceremony. My request for a weapon was met with a reminder that I should skip breakfast, in case my bridal nerves made me nauseous.
Now, I wait until the dressmaker and servants leave the room and approach my mother. She’s finishing her look in front of the mirror.
“There has to be a way to break the spell on my arm,” I say.
She finishes dabbing the rare perfume she always wears on her wrists and neck, turns away from her reflection, and smiles at me. “You know how bargains work in our world, Hyacinth. You are going to walk down that aisle, marry the Spring Court Heir, and smile.”
“How can you be so glib about this?”
“Glib? I have suffered beneath the whims of Fae males for centuries. I’m not glib, I’m filled with a thousand-years’ worth of violent, simmering rage.”
“Then help me.”
She sighs, but then her eyes soften, and she brushes a hand over my cheek. “Sweet, sweet girl. I know you cannot understand this, but everything I’ve ever done is to help you. Do you really think I would let you do something that would put you in harm’s way?”
“What do you call walking me down the aisle to marry a psychopath for eternity, as not literally putting me in harm’s way?”
“Part of the game, that’s what I call it. Now, can you please trust that I know how to play it?”
My need for comfort overrides the truth—that I have no idea what she would or wouldn’t do when it comes to my future—and when she grabs my hand and squeezes, I squeeze back.
“Now.” She produces a key, unlocks my manacles, and stalks toward the door. “I have a wedding gift for you.”
An outlandishly expensive piece of jewelry like the bracelet I’m wearing, no doubt. I glance around the room, searching for a weapon, something to help me overpower the guards the second my mother leaves.
That is, until the door opens and I hear that biting Texas drawl.
“Who in their right mind wouldn’t put an elevator in a twelve-story building?”
My heart leaps as I hear a warm voice say, “Quit your bitching, Vi, or I’ll feed you to that horned creature that took our luggage.”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
My aunts both turn at the same time, their faces lighting up as they see me. I can’t help it. I was so hurt after my last conversation with Vi, but the moment our eyes lock, I sprint toward them.
Zinnia’s soft, plump arms envelop me, and I sag into her like I’m nine again. “Shh,” she coos, stroking my cheek. “I’m here.”
Near the doorway, my mother watches the scene for a moment, something unreadable in her eyes, before shutting the door behind her.
“I tried to call.” I fight back the tears I swore this morning I wouldn’t shed. Something about this woman makes my emotions just flood out.
“I know, darling.” She glances over at Vi as if unsure whether or not to say something. “We thought—well, your mother said you were having a hard time acclimating. She thought it would be easier for you to adjust if we, well . . . if we didn’t have any contact with you for a while.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.” I wipe my nose on my arm. Why would my mother do that to me?
“I can only imagine how hard it must be for her,” Zinnia adds, her kind eyes wrinkling at the corners. “To find the daughter she thought she lost, only to learn someone else had been raising her.”
The pain in Zinnia’s voice reminds me that she lost a daughter, too.
I sigh. “You’re here, now. That’s all that matters.”
Zinnia fixes one of the jeweled butterfly pins in my hair, her eyes misty. “And I’ll stay with you as long as you need me. Do you understand?”
Pain flickers behind her composed mask. Zinnia knows this is a farce. A forced marriage. And yet, for my sake, she’s trying to be positive.
What a mess. But if I’m going to get married, I’m glad Zinnia is here with me, even if I have a sinking feeling they’re only here to ensure I don’t make a scene.