Evermore Academy (Evermore Academy #3) - Audrey Grey Page 0,18

be very persuasive.”

I grin. Sometimes I forget just how persuasive.

“I just reminded them that you are still mortal and therefore frail, followed by how very screwed they would be if something befell not only the Summer Court Princess, but the fiancé of the Spring Court Heir.”

They must have arrived early this morning because both their rooms are fully decorated. Accordingly, Mack’s is an explosion of teal and coral, pulled together by black accents and a gorgeous sunrise orange leather couch. Eclipsa’s room is black and silver, the ceiling painted with magical lacquer to look exactly like the night sky.

When they drag me to my room, emotion tugs behind my eyes, and I have to chew my lip to keep from crying.

Easily the size of the living room below, the space is all soft creamy walls with accents of emerald and gold. A light honeysuckle breeze drifts in from the ajar balcony door. On the other side is the forest.

But it’s the gold-framed photos that I immediately cherish the most. Pictures of my aunts and siblings line the distressed cream-white dresser and matching nightstands.

Plucking a stuffed white owl from atop two fat gold pillows, I fall into one of the studio chairs near a coffee table and sigh. “I don’t deserve you guys.”

Mack picks up a pillow embroidered with the initials SS + ILB and squeezes it against her chest. “We’re pretty awesome.”

Yells draw my attention to the top of the stairs outside my door. My mother storms down the hallway, her signature too-sweet perfume claiming the rose and honeysuckle scented air. It’s the only part of her that isn’t understated.

“What is this garbage?” she demands. Her forehead, made nearly immobile by her tight bun, grooves slightly as she examines a can. “The entire pantry is full of this . . . this . . . poison.”

My chest swells, and I barely manage to fight off a grin. SpaghettiOs.

Only one person knows how much I love the canned pasta, aka the poor man’s heaven. Valerian.

“Trash it,” she calls over her shoulder to the overwhelmed assistant, who has run out of notebook space and looks ready to pass out.

“No.” When it comes to wasting gourmet food, that’s where I draw the line. “They’re for . . . Ruby.”

I can feel Ruby suddenly come to life atop my backpack. “A present?”

My mother looks over Ruby, her disdain oozing from every feature, and then she slowly turns that iron gaze to me. “I do hope that you will remember, daughter, the weight you carry on your shoulders. Everything you do, from the company you keep to the food you consume, reflects on your court.”

“I do.” That weight is practically crippling.

Her perfume grows stronger as she nears. She leans down, brushing her lips over my cheek, and says, “I will miss you.”

I’m not sure who she’s trying to convince. Me or her. She doesn’t wait for a reply. When the muffled sound of the front door can be heard clicking shut, I exhale, sinking into myself.

Funny how I always imagined reuniting with my mother would somehow fix everything wrong in my life. But I’m learning my mother doesn’t fix things.

She obliterates them and then molds the broken fragments into something she considers more acceptable. But what is that?

What does she want from me? If only I knew, I could try to be that person.

Pulling my phone from my backpack, I drift to the balcony, absentmindedly checking for any new texts from Zinnia. I know I should be thankful for everything my mother has done. She helped negotiate my contract with Hellebore, she opened her home to me, and she’s bought me everything most girls could ever want.

Except what I want can’t be bought. To feel at home somewhere. To feel accepted, maybe even loved.

God, I miss Zinnia. Her warm hugs and kind voice. Her gift for always knowing the right words to fix a broken heart. And her tea. No one makes tea like that woman.

I stare at my last message to Zinnia before shutting off my phone. Maybe this is what I need. To let go of my mortal family so I can embrace my Fae heritage. To become who I need to be instead of who I want to be.

I tell myself it’s my choice so I don’t have to face the horrible truth. Just like Valerian and Asher, the people I care about most are drifting away and there’s nothing I can do about it.

8

There are a thousand things I need to

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