Chapter Twenty-three

ARCHER

If not for Ollie, I'd have skipped family supper. But I had a responsibility to him, so I sat at the table as he and Mia served up the chicken stir fry they'd made. I noted uneasily that Ollie was sporting another plaster and hoped that didn't mean I needed to look out for a fingertip in my meal.

"There were so many cakes at June's, and I didn't get to eat a single bite," he complained as he dug into his portion.

"You went down well, though," Mia put in, and I saw the retort flash through Ollie's head before he realised who he was talking to and firmly swallowed it. So to speak. "Lacey said you impressed Uncle Ted, which, let me tell you, is not easy to do."

"Which one was Uncle Ted again?"

Seeing that Mia had the conversation under control, I stayed out of it and concentrated on my meal. But I wasn't hungry. I'd heard Tim's bike start up shortly after he'd left me, and God only knew where he'd gone. Friends in the nearby village, I hoped. I didn't want him driving that death machine when he was upset, but if I said as much, I'd be accused of trying to control him again.

"Your doves shat on me." I became aware that Ollie was addressing me, his tone aggrieved but laughter in his eyes. "I swear I'm going to flame that dovecote."

"Birds of peace, remember. It would be the ultimate in bad karma." It was an effort to match his light-heartedness, and he must have picked up on that because he turned back to Mia.

"Have you ever thought of dying them with vegetable dye, like Lord Berners did? You could have rainbow doves. Pride doves."

"And you're going to hold them while I paint them?" Mia asked.

"Good point. They'd peck me to death. But it must be possible to do because Berners used to dry them off in his airing cupboard." He frowned slightly. "I think he also had a horse living in his house, so maybe he's not a good role model. Though…" He looked around the kitchen. "Don't you think this place would be even better with a baby donkey trotting around?"

"Miniature," I corrected automatically, and he grinned at me, so wide and bright and looking so pleased I realised he'd done that on purpose to draw me from my thoughts. I hadn't thought anything could lift the heaviness Tim's words had left on my heart, but Ollie's chatter had done it.

"When do your lessons start again, Mia?" I knew the answer, but it was a harmless subject that would keep conversation flowing.

The two of them rambled on as I watched Ollie. He had a keen emotional intelligence, as well as having been the only one to spot what Abimelech had been up to at the moot. I wasn't sure why he hid his intelligence behind such a frivolous exterior.

As if he'd read my thoughts, he glanced at me. "I was thinking earlier about this whole situation with dragons having to host a stranger and how half-arsed the planning was. I can see that by springing it on us all, it meant families were far more likely to go along with it. But…" He trailed off, as if checking whether I wanted him to continue.

"But?" I encouraged, intrigued as to where he was going with this.

"I wondered if there was another reason for doing it this way. I'm not the sort of dragon that would ever normally represent their family, but can you imagine what it would be like to have someone who was good at this stuff staying with you? Someone like Jack or my brothers, who are really bright and would have their own agenda? That could cause all sorts of upheavals, if not outright conflict. Upheavals that meant every family would be concentrating on themselves and not on whatever Abimelech Mortimer might be up to."

"Fuck." I sat back, winded suddenly.

"But there's that old saying, never attribute to malice what could be due to incompetence," Ollie added.

"Also true. But the possibility of malice is definitely worth bearing in mind. And Ollie," I said, "you're a damn fine representative of your family."

His cheeks flared red, and he wouldn't look at me.

Mia nudged his arm. "Archer doesn't flatter anyone, which is kind of depressing when you come down the stairs in your party dress and ask him how it looks. So he means that."

Ollie kept his head down. I stood to make coffee, giving him space for whatever it was he was thinking. I'd have expected him to laugh off my compliment. But as I thought about it, I realised I hadn't complimented him before, so I didn't know how he would react.

Mia had been joking about the flattery, but I had the nasty feeling it hadn't been a complete joke. Certainly, I couldn't remember the last time I complimented her to her face, let alone Tim. I just expected them to know what I thought about them.

Perhaps I could start putting that right. "Supper was delicious, thanks," I said, as I put the kettle on.

Mia got up and held her hand to my forehead, checking for fever. "Who are you, and what have you done with my brother?"

She was teasing, but the underlying message hit home hard. I'd been concentrating so much on keeping things together that I hadn't noticed how distant I'd become, how rarely I shared what I felt. Praising her cooking and complimenting Ollie felt strangely right, as if I were peeling back layers that had grown over the person I used to be.

I bumped her away with my hip so I could get to the mug cupboard. "Love you, kiddo," I said quietly.

I'd expected an eye roll from my teenage sister at such soppiness. It didn't happen. Her face paled as she drew in a shocked breath. "Are you ill?" she demanded.

God, the alarm in her eyes. Her childhood of loss and sudden change had left its mark.

"No, I'm trying out actually telling you what I'm thinking. How's it going for me?"

"Now I know that's what you're doing, I love it, but don't scare me like that again." She reached up to kiss my cheek. "Love you. Forget the coffee—I've got things to do."

It was an unsubtle way of leaving me and Ollie alone. I couldn't say I minded.

OLLIE

Archer's words about me were still resounding in my head. He'd meant them, Mia had said, and I believed her. I didn't think Archer would say anything he didn't mean. But he only thought I was good because there wasn't anyone else from my family to compare me with.

Comforted by the realisation, which stopped me having to dig further into why his words were so unsettling, I became aware that Mia had left us alone. That gave me a chance to find out what had made Archer so quiet and his eyes so sad when he'd come in for supper.

He put a mug of coffee in front of me, white with one sugar, the way I liked it.

"What's wrong?" I asked as he sat beside me.

"Nothing. D'you want a biscuit with your coffee?"

Maybe I'd have believed nothing was wrong if he hadn't tried to redirect my thoughts like that. "Between leaving me at the car and coming in for supper, something changed."

He looked at me. "You know, most people don't ask what's wrong. They ask if everything's okay. They want you to say yes so they can carry on with their lives none the wiser. You would make a good interrogator. You know the right questions to ask, and with your disarming ways, no one would see the trick question coming."

"Uh, thanks, I think. So what's up?"

He rubbed his hands over his face. "Honestly, Ollie, I think I've just realised something, and I need to sort through it myself."

It sounded like he was blowing me off, but his eyes told a different story. Mia had said at the moot that he never shared what he was thinking until he'd made up his mind, whereas I preferred to talk through things with an audience in order to reach my revelation. He wasn't shutting me out; it was how he processed things. I hoped.

"Sorry," he said, standing up, his coffee untouched. "I need to fly. I'll be back later."

"Can't I come with you?"

He shook his head. "Not this time."

I knew — well, I thought— that whatever was bugging him wasn't to do with me, but I hated the way he was putting up walls between us. I watched him open the back door and held back a sigh.

He stood in the doorway for a moment, looking at me. His face softened. "Come on."

"Really?"

I didn't know why a simple question made him wince.

"Is it that much of a surprise that I changed my mind?"

"Honestly, yes." I crossed the room to him. "You always know exactly what you want, and there's no room for compromise." I wished I had half the sense of purpose he and my brothers had, instead of floating through life aimlessly the way I did.

He was looking at me, but he seemed lost inside his own head.

"Fuck," he said at last. Instead of moving outside, he returned to his chair and sank into it.

"Why did you change your mind about me coming?" I asked, sitting beside him.

"You looked sad, and I hated that I'd made you look like that. I have a talent for it."

"For making me sad? You do the opposite."

"Maybe not you," he said. "At least, not yet. But Tim. And when Mia said what she did about her dress, I realised that I do the same to her, too."

"She was joking," I said, because she'd been teasing him.

"Maybe, but there was truth in there too."

I shut up. He knew his family better than I ever could.

"No one would have taken an eighteen-year-old seriously as head of the family if I hadn't made them. I had to be decisive and commanding, and impose my will on them. And now…Tim thinks that all I am is the head of his family, not his brother. Not someone who cares about him or—or listens to him."

I'd never expected Archer to open up to anyone, let alone me. And he'd taken over responsibility for the family at eighteen? I couldn't even imagine what that must have been like. He was always the protector, but I wondered who had protected him.

"Do you think there's any truth to what Tim thinks?" I asked softly.

"Probably," he confessed. "But I don't know how to change it."

By listening to Tim, would be my advice. But how could I say that to him without it sounding insultingly simplistic and also critical? "For what it's worth, Archer, I think you're fucking amazing, taking responsibility for your family so young and keeping them safe all these years. If you've made any mistakes along the way, you're no different from the rest of us in that regard."

He shook his head slightly as he looked at me, a smile vying with the sorrow in his eyes. "You really are a ball of eternal optimism and sunshine, aren't you? But you didn't see Tim's face earlier. He hates me."

"I don't think he does. Did you tell him about having his friends over?"

"Yeah, and for an instant, I thought I got through to him. It all changed when I said it was your idea."

I couldn't help it—I winced.

"I didn't want to take the credit when you came up with it." Archer sounded defensive, as if he knew he'd messed up somehow.

"He thinks you're doing it to please me rather than him. His reaction to that doesn't sound like someone who hates you." It sounded like someone who was desperate to know his brother still loved him, but there was no way I could say those words to him.

He rubbed his hands over his face again, then looked at me. "Flying?"

We flew over the Court, and I stuck close to Archer. At one point, I looked back at the house and saw Mia at the window, watching us. I raised a wing in salute, and promptly plummeted towards the lake, off-balance. Thankfully, I had the height to recover before I embarrassed myself completely in front of Archer.

He took me to the folly and allowed me to perch there beside him and survey the grounds. A vixen with young cubs tumbling after her ventured out of the woods, and the donkeys were grouped together in the field, fast asleep. Even the dovecote with its antisocial inhabitants looked peaceful.

My heart was overflowing at how perfect this was.