Page 19 of The Last Casterglass
“We were looking for you,” Olivia said. “I wanted to show you off to everyone.”
Show her off?Seph shook her head as she went to the sink to wash the wood dust from her hands. “I needed to work.”
“On a Friday evening? When we had an occasion?” Althea sounded somewhere between sceptical and condemning.
“I’m not exactly an asset at these functions,” Seph replied shortly. “And I don’t enjoy them.”
“I thought you might be with Oliver,” Olivia chimed in, a teasing note in her voice. “He disappeared around the same time you did.”
“Oh?” Althea’s voice sharpened with interest. “Well, well, well.”
“Don’t,” Seph said, too tired to be angry. “It’s not like that.”
“But it could be—” Olivia began, and Seph stopped her with a shake of her head.
“Don’t.”
Olivia peered closely at her. “Seph, are you okay?” she asked gently.
Seph bit her lip. She felt, in that moment, perilously close to tears, and she really didn’t want to cry, not when she needed to be tough.
She took a deep breath to steady herself. “I’m fine,” she said firmly.
“Did something happen? Sam mentioned he’d said something—”
“Forget it.” Now she sounded like her usual sulky self. “Just…stop with the speculation, okay? I don’t need it, and frankly you managed fine not thinking about me at all for most of my life.” She spoke matter-of-factly, but Olivia and Althea both blinked, looking hurt and guilty.
“We’re here now, Seph—” Althea began, and Olivia interjected, “And we do care about you, you know.”
“I know.” Her throat was growing tight. She could not have this conversation now, not on top of everything else that had happened this evening. “It’s late. I need to go to bed.”
Olivia and Althea both looked like they wanted to say a lot more, but amazingly, they kept themselves from it.
“Well, you know you can talk to us, if you need to?” Olivia said and Seph nodded mechanically. She knew Olivia meant it and sure, she could talk to them, these sisters of hers who had never been around, not when she’d got her first period, or been bullied at school, or felt so lonely and weird she could drown in the emotions.
They’d dipped in and out of her life with careless ease—at one point, Seph had gone three years without seeing Althea, who had looked mildly surprised to clap eyes on her when she’d come back to the castle. Seph suspected her sister had genuinely forgotten she existed. Not one of them had ever really acknowledged that it might be a little tough, growing up with elderly, eccentric parents who’d had their heyday of childrearing twenty years earlier. They’d assumed, just like her parents had, that she was happy doing her own thing, that she was satisfyingly self-sufficient.
Well, she’d learned to be, and she certainly wasn’t going to talk about what was going on now to either Olivia or Althea.
“Sure, I know,” she said, and then she walked out of the room.
As she headed upstairs, she paused by the narrow stairway that led to the servants’ quarters where Oliver was sleeping. Of course, she had no intention of going up there now, when he was likely in bed or already asleep. But she lingered for a few seconds, wondering what she’d say when she saw him again, what he would say. Would he brush it off? Ignore her? Act like it hadn’t happened at all? Should she apologise—or not even try, because it would probably fall flat or be rejected outright?
She had no idea, because she was hopeless with social situations, as she’d proved tonight. Why should she try at all, with anyone? What was the point, when it led to more uncertainty, unhappiness, this restless feeling inside her worse than ever? With a dispirited sigh, Seph turned from the stairs and headed to her room.
*
Oliver was doinghis best not to feel stung. No, not stung, he acknowledged as he dressed for the day, intending to head up to the orchard before anyone else was up.Hurt.He was actually really hurt, which felt, well, as pathetic as Seph had said he was.Like a puppy begging to be kicked.It was so close to what Jack used to sneer at him that Oliver still cringed when he thought about those words coming out of her mouth.
Had she meant them? Did it matter? She’d said them, to her brother no less, and that was bad enough. And yes, Oliver had always known he had a tendency to people-please, born of, no doubt, the insecurity of being rejected by his own mother. The trouble was, knowing your own weaknesses didn’t make hearing someone else sneer about them any easier. In fact, it rather made it worse.
Well, now he knew, Oliver told himself as he filled a flask with coffee, made a quick bacon sandwich, and headed outside, determined to see absolutely no one. He’d left the party last night like a schoolgirl in a strop, which was bad enough, especially considering he’d been meant to serve canapés all evening.
He’d walked through the walled garden instead, and then hiked up to the campsite, shut down now for winter. He’d wandered through the wood, happy to empty out his mind and lose track of time in the process. By the time he’d made it back to the castle, all the guests had left, and so he’d headed upstairs without seeing anyone, which had been a relief.
And he still wasn’t ready to have any awkward conversations with anyone, so he’d spend several hours this morning clearing brambles and working up a sweat and hopefully getting Seph out of his system.
Unfortunately it wasn’t that easy. Yes, he worked up a sweat, and he cleared plenty of brambles, under a wintry pale blue sky and air that felt like a drink of cold water. But he didn’t get Seph out of his system. Instead of caring less, he found himself caring more. He was actually getting angry, which felt novel, because he usually backtracked, doubling down on his apologies, insisting everything was his fault. Not this time.