Page 41 of Rituals & Rivalry

Farrah is off in the corner surrounded by people, but I’m happy alone. The sounds of patrons laughing, of music playing, and of drinks scraping across the bar top are enough to keep me company.

This may be the first moment of peace I’ve had all day.

Of course, my sister doesn’t let that last long before she sidles up next to me. Farrah orders her drink before turning to me and pouting. “I can feel your bad vibes from across the room. You should order a bliss potion.”

I roll my eyes and wrinkle my nose. Magic-induced highs have never really been my thing, and a strong enough bliss potion is basically magical ecstasy. Pass. “Thanks, but I’m fine.”

“Liar.” She tilts her head. “What happened? Was it the Seren cottage?”

The Seren cottage. That’s what it is now.

Yes, I’ve been stopping by to take care of the lawn, but I haven’t been thinking of that. Instead, I’ve been thinking of Aurora Seren herself. How can she get so deep under my skin, awakening parts of me that have been dormant for so long, and also make me feel like shit?

The last thing I want to do is bring Farrah into that mess, nor do I want to admit that my attraction and frustration for Aurora are equal. Today, I can barely feel either. It’s all been replaced with a fear, one I’ve known well but hate to give a name.

Of not doing enough. Of being forgotten. And worse, of other people—the very people I try to help with the charity—being forgotten as well. I can take it. I can live the rest of my life in my cabin alone, but they need support, and I won’t let anyone stop me from giving it.

Aurora wasn’t trying to do that. I know. But it feels like she was.

“It’s more interpersonal.” I clear my throat. “A working relationship problem, before you get excited. I’m still happily single.”

That was going to be her next question, I’m sure. She asks it all the time. Then again, happily may be a stretch. I can’t remember the last time I was happy.

“Oh.” Her face drops. My younger sister is a love witch, and while she’ll claim it doesn’t make her love-obsessed, I would beg to differ. Her extensive dating roster would agree—not that I judge her. She certainly judges me for my lack of action. “Antoni? I told you he’d be a bad assistant.”

“No.” I groan. “He’s getting better, actually. It’s planning the harvest festival. We’re adding some new things this year, and it’s harder. Creative differences.”

“Oh. The charity action?”

I squint. “You know?”

She lifts one of her shoulders. “Someone may or may not have asked a few friends and me about it the other night.”

Someone has to be Aurora.

“Then you’re to blame.” I cross my arms. “Typical. When there’s a problem, Farrah Poole can always be found at the scene of the crime. It sounds like you should be paying for my next drink.”

She giggles. “I didn’t know it would upset you so much, honest!”

“Not upset. Just surprised. Change is good. It was good when I came up with the idea, and it will be good now that we’re replacing it.”

Maybe it’s the beer, or maybe it’s having time to pout and mull it over, but some of the tension rolls off my shoulders. I want to move on. Holding grudges isn’t becoming. It stings less to know that my annoying little sister is the one fighting against me, not Aurora herself.

I don’t know why Aurora’s opinion should matter, but it does.

“Just taking a break from it,” Farrah says. “Not replacing. This is a small town. People can only pay for a midnight picnic date with the same people for so long before they get bored.”

She’s right—Aurora was too—and the truth is, I never considered that because I’ve never actually taken part in the auction. Maybe if I had, I would have realized it was the same pairings year after year.

“Good point. Okay. Enough. You talked me down.”

“Good.” She frowns gently. “Take it easy on Aurora, will you? She has a good heart, and she’s really trying.”

“I know.”

That’s part of the problem.

Her heart is too good.