and she wasn’t that person anymore. She didn’t want to be that person.
She peered through the narrow crack where the gate met the wall. A few nuns were walking in the garden. She focused on a spot in the far corner, one well shadowed by the trees, and used her mirror to travel there.
The grounds were beautiful, the place neat and quiet and peaceful. A half circle of statues surrounded the end of the walkway in the middle of the garden. In front of her was a small, slightly shabby building. She hugged the back wall of it, trying to get her bearings. Judging by the steam and smell of soap coming out of the high transom windows, it was a laundry.
Footsteps came toward her. Saying a little prayer that she wasn’t about to get thrown out of a convent, she crouched down and peered around the corner. A woman walked toward the building pushing a large rolling laundry cart.
Harlow waited until she heard the door open and close, then stood up. The laundry woman had to know people, right? She was in charge of underwear. That had to put her on a first-name basis with anyone who lived here.
Harlow mustered a confidence she didn’t feel and made her way to the door. Only a screen stood between her and the woman inside, who sang softly to herself as she sorted bedsheets.
Heart thumping, Harlow opened the door and stepped inside. “Excuse me? Could you help me?”
The woman turned. “What’s that?”
Harlow knew those eyes. Those stormy sea eyes. “I, uh… I’m trying to find someone.”
“You’ll have to see the sisters up front.” The woman’s gaze narrowed. “But the convent’s closed to visitors at this hour. You best come back tomorrow.”
Harlow lifted her chin slightly and decided to test her theory. “Do you know Augustine Robelais?”
The flash of recognition in the woman’s eyes lasted less than a second. “No.”
Harlow nodded. So that’s how she wanted to play it. “I’d heard his mother lived here and I had a message for her. Something important about her son.”
The woman crossed her arms. “What’s that?”
Harlow put her hand on the door handle. “Sorry, I can’t tell anyone but her.” If the woman couldn’t at least admit to being his mother, she didn’t deserve any more of Harlow’s—or Augustine’s—time.
The woman’s mouth bent. “I’m his mother. What’s he done now?”
With her admittance, Harlow’s nerves disappeared. “Let’s see, since becoming Guardian, he’s saved the city on numerous occasions, saved countless lives, mine included, and stopped corruption in its tracks. And he’s only been on the job a few weeks.”
His mother snorted. “If you’re trying to impress me—”
“No, I’m not. Truthfully, I’m not sure why I felt so compelled to talk to you, but I thought you should know that no matter what you think of your son, he is an amazing man. He’s caring and thoughtful and fearless and the best person I know.”
One side of his mother’s mouth bunched up in a bitter smile. “And I suppose you’re in love with him. You’re fae, too, aren’t you?”
“As a matter of fact, I am. On both counts.” Defiance rose up in Harlow. “You know what else? I’m going to marry your son and we’re going to have all kinds of fae babies.” She closed her mouth quickly, unsure where that last bit had come from, but not entirely upset she’d said it.
“You really think he’s all those things?”
“I do.”
After a long pause, the woman picked up a piece of laundry. “If you think I’m coming to the wedding, I… don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not.”
Harlow’s jaw unhinged. That felt like progress. Of a kind. “All right then.” She was going to have to have a long talk with Augie when she got home.
His mother folded the dish towel in her hands and set it aside. “I saw the news. The statement the senator made. Then that video that came out after it—”
“I made that.”
“That senator was going to kill him.”
“Yes, she was.”
His mother raised her head to look Harlow in the eyes. “I’m not saying I want to move in and have all my Sunday dinners with him, but maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to get to know the man he’s become.”
Harlow nodded. “I’ll let him know. But that’s all I’m doing. It’s his decision what happens next.”
“I understand.” She turned and went back to her laundry.
Harlow stood there for a moment, trying to process everything that had just happened. Finally, she opened her