Page 95 of Florescentia

She had a small smile in the corner of her lips. Yes, a jape.

“Well, one thing we may share in common is not remembering something as trivial as age.” I tilted my head to follow the creature.

Her smile stayed, and that was victory enough.

The visit troubled me some, a deep lost feeling trying to dig its way out. A strange feeling. The more I thought about how little time I had left with her, the more it upset me. It wasn’t death I looked forward to anymore. A new momentum was growing inside me, an urge to discover.

But not for me, for her.

I could do what I’d come for. The goal was to be in my human skin enough to where I’d forget how to be a shadow, forget where I’d come from, and become as human as the rest of them. But I couldn’t do that without her fulfilling her purpose, and even the thought made me uneasy now.

Maybe it was my human gut forming, the uneasiness. And I was being truthful—she had changed my mind. But she couldn’t be in this world much longer. The longer this was prolonged, the worse the balance would be thrown off. It was only a matter of time.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The Nova

My body still felt as if it had been trampled by horses, the big ones with hooves the size of my head. The only surfaces I’d be sitting on for the next week would be cushioned.

The bruising around my hips was felt with every step.

I found myself brushing my skirt down, fixing my hair, the embarrassment showing in the color of my cheeks, even if there was no way of anyone knowing.

The deafening clarity aside, the weather was uncharacteristically perfect.

Usually the asphalt and pavement made the air between buildings unbearable and sweltering. It magnified the already cruel sun. The haze always settled above the skyline, the tops rarely seen as they appeared to tower endlessly above the smog. The worst was the end of the week, when the garbage was put out, since the fog captured the smells like a brine.

But today, an easy breeze carried through, keeping the sweat off my skin, and there was not one cloud in the sky. The humidity hadn’t even allowed for the infamous smog to collect. Days like this were few and far between. A lucky occurrence to witness.

On this rare occasion, I wore an indigo dress. Normally, I might have been worried about the grime of the air dulling the fabric. It had the most brilliant violet shine when the sun hit it. Not often did the weather present such an opportunity. I fastened the heirloom stone around my throat over the collar, above Dorian’s scarf. I pinned my hair mostly up, leaving a couple of pieces free. I had neglected to pluck the white hairs that peppered through the locks where my vitiligo touched my scalp, although I had brought a parasol to shield my skin from any burns.

As I stepped into the café, the bread was baking and the pastries were already being placed in the display. I watched the bakers stack the shelves. Small cakes, cookies, croissants, and fresh semolina bread. The steam breathed against the window, fogging and clearing as the goods settled. They were disappearing almost as fast as they were being put out. Golden light shone through the display window and the passing shadows of buzzing customers.

“See something you like?” a voice beside me asked.

I straightened my posture when I saw Calum smiling sweetly, like he had been observing me for a moment before speaking up.

“No,” I laughed, but it was more of an embarrassed exhale.

“Imagining eating something doesn’t satisfy the same as actually eating it,” he joked, then held up a paper bag. “I always get extra for the office, but I may find it in me to let you steal one.”

“Are you headed there now?”

He nodded, then tipped his head to the door with his arm out.

I felt I had to survey the room before accepting, but all the busybodies were more focused on getting into the line as it began to grow out the door.

We stepped out together, and something frightening settled upon me. It was stressful enough being seen with Altair, but another escorting man? At least I had the excuse of my brother; I could simply say Calum had been sent in place of him, especially if my mother-in-law pestered me from some birds who’d filled her ear.

In the grand scheme of things, I felt selfish for even wondering about reputation.

Calum handed me a croissant; I handed him my gloves to hold as I picked at it.

“Any fantastical research underway today?” he asked.

“More of a spiritual acquisition,” I said. “Old texts just have that charm to them.”

“If you allow me to help, you’ll get me out of clerical duty,” he teased. Then, his expression turned serious. “I mean it. If I have to refile a revised application one more time, I may quit altogether.”