Solstice (Midsummer #3)

10. Ivy

10

Ivy

FEbrUARY

M y youngest sister, Abigail, sat at the circular desk in my office with five books out in front of her, flipping through a dusty blue one before landing on the right page, her eyes flicking down the right side before going to the left. In many ways, Abigail and I were carbon copies of each other. We had the same coloring, the same steel-gray eyes, the same set to our nose. If not for the ten-year age difference, people might have been convinced we were twins.

That only made me want to protect her from however Evelyn Washington planned to dictate her life.

“Thomas Washington University, huh?” I raised an eyebrow.

She lifted her eyes from her book and smiled. “Yeah. Exitus acta probat.”

The Washington family motto: the outcome is the test of the act. Our parents had thrown that in our faces since we were children.

“Is that what you want?”

She furrowed her eyebrows as if the question was foreign to her. It likely was. No one had ever asked me what I wanted at eighteen. There was only what was expected, only what mother told me I had to do. I carried the great burden of history on my crown, and I wore it reluctantly. Abigail shouldn’t have to do the same.

“What I want?” She shook her head. “Of course, it’s what I want. It’s all I ever wanted.”

I didn’t believe that, but I would have said the same thing eight years ago.

“What about grad school?”

She laughed, flipping the next page as she casually said, “Georgetown. Of course.”

“Do you want to be a politician?”

“Sure,” came her automated response, but hesitation flickered behind her gaze.

“Because if you don’t”—I typed at my keyboard, absently sending an email, trying to be cool about the whole thing—“that’s okay.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Again, I shrugged. “You don’t have to do what Mother tells you.”

She laughed. “Yeah, and spend my twenties a hermit spinster nerd like Kit? No thanks.”

“Hermit spinster nerd.” I didn’t know what she meant. I thought Kit lived a pretty wild social life, but perhaps she hid that from our younger sister. Or maybe she lied to me about it. Abigail and Kit had lived together longer than I’d lived with either of them.

“Yeah, always sneaking around, always hiding something, always on that stupid computer.” Abigail rolled her eyes and shook her head. “She hasn’t gone to graduate school or followed any of Mother’s plans. She hasn’t had a long-term relationship in years.”

Interesting. “Why do you suppose that is?”

Abigail shrugged. “She’s not like us, is she? You found the love of your life when you were a child, and I’ll marry Nathaniel Hancock like I always wanted.”

The love of my life. Was that what she thought Lex was? And why the hell did she have her sights on a preppy douche like him? The Hancocks were ostentatious and gaudy, even on their best days.

“Lex and me…” I sighed, shaking my head. She had the wrong idea about Kit. It wasn’t that she was a recluse who defied our mother just for the sake of doing so. Abigail didn’t have the whole story. “It’s not all sunshine and fluffy rainbows.”

“Of course.” She nodded. “What relationship is?”

She still didn’t understand, but I decided to shift tactics. “Are you dating Nathaniel?”

She didn’t answer, just stared at me.

“It’s okay if you are. I won’t tell Mother.”

“No,” she said. “I’m, uh—I’m not really his type.”

“What do you mean?”

“He likes men.” She laughed. “At least, privately. Despite the bimbos he has on his arm publicly. Which is why he’s perfect for me.” Again, I was confused, until she continued. “Because I like women.”

Oh… Perhaps we had more in common than I thought. “You know I’m bisexual, right?”

She hung her jaw open, her eyebrows going halfway up her head. “I did not.”

I laughed. “It’s okay to be gay, Abigail.”

“Mother will not approve.”

And that…well…I didn’t have a good answer for that because she was right. Despite Mother’s liberal political agenda, she had been strictly conservative with her own children. If she ever found out about Miri and me, or the four of us, I’d be lucky if she didn’t disinherit me.

“I’m not dating anyone. People are mostly disappointing.” Abigail flipped another page in the book. “They either steal from me or want to steal from me, and I’ve gotten tired of being stabbed in the back.”

Good God. It was like looking in a mirror. I thought of eighteen-year-old me, standing in a dorm room at TWU with Carter, telling him the same thing.

Abigail said it at the same time the words echoed through my mind. “What I do now will reflect on my future self.” If exitus acta probat were the Washington motto, that might be the Evelyn Washington addendum. I smiled, recalling Carter putting his Chicago Bears hat on my head and telling me, “People are mostly good, Weeds.”

“ Who told you that?” I had asked him.

“My mother.” It turned out Renee Scott had been right.

“One day, you’ll be old and wish you’d done whatever made you happy.” I smiled, remembering how young we’d both been.

She narrowed her eyes. “Are you happy, Ivy?”

I opened my mouth and looked down at the binder in front of me, containing the bill I’d written with Miri, the one she was flying in next week to help me finalize before I presented it to Congress.

Am I happy? Sometimes. When I was in a cabin in the woods with the people I loved most in the world. When I wasn’t at the whim of a media that scrutinized my every move, a mother that had had my life planned since childbirth, and the threat of a supernatural force that this realm hadn’t seen in a millennium.

Lex strolled into my office before I could answer, looking from me to my sister and back again.

“You’re here late.” He rubbed a hand over Abigail’s head the way he’d always done, and she shoved him away. “Your mother know you’re still working?”

“She’s the one that told me to stay.” Abigail gave him a perfect grin. Unlike Kit, Abigail adored Lex. He’d always been a brother to her, protective and teasing like Jon, annoying and affectionate like our youngest brother, Henry. Lex came to me and leaned down to plant a kiss firmly on my lips.

Abigail groaned and flipped the book closed. “Get a room.”

“You’re in my house, kid.” Lex straightened and shifted his gaze to me. “You put up with this all day?”

“She’s not so bad.” I laughed. “Reminds me of someone I used to know.”

“Ugh, me too.” Lex looked at Abigail. “Not in a good way. That’s not a compliment.”

“If it’s my sister you’re referring to, I’ll take it.” Abigail shot him a teasing grin.

I laughed, and Lex shook his head, running a finger down the side of my face. “There’s been an update on Smythe. We should move soon.” Lex gave me a visual of what he’d been able to find based on Kit’s initial search. He worked at Portland College in Maine, but nothing about his behavior would suggest he’d gotten nervous about the king or the queen. “If the king is out, he doesn’t know, or he’s acting like it doesn’t matter.”

Lex had thought he’d seen the queen at the cabin, and Miri had felt her presence. While Carter and I had slept through the whole thing, I believed them. We needed to know what Smythe knew. The reason we hadn’t acted yet had to do with not knowing his motivations. Did he want back into Faerie? Did he miss his old companions? Maybe he’d be pissed Miri had built a wall of thistles around the place. If no one could get out, certainly no one could get in. Maybe he didn’t know they’d fallen. Or perhaps he didn’t want us to know about it.

Going to him could expose us and announce we’d brought home more than memories both times we’d gone to Ireland. Smythe knew what Lex could do, but that wasn’t enough to make him come asking questions. And if he found out about the rest of us, we didn’t know what danger that could bring.

“I agree. It’s time for a visit.”

“I’ll call Miri.” Lex gave me another smile and leaned down to kiss me again. “You look entirely too comfortable here, Little W.” He turned to Abigail. “Don’t get any ideas about moving in.”

“Don’t tempt me. I’ll do it just to mess with you.” She scrunched her nose at him as he turned to head toward his own room. “You two are disgustingly, adorably in loovvveee .”

Ignoring the burn in my cheeks, I thought about last night, when he’d held me down by the throat and torn my skirt off so he could fuck me on the kitchen table before dinner. Love had nothing to do with it, of course. I still hated Lex, almost as much as I loved him and knew I could never live without him. What we had ran deeper than both sentiments, and that didn’t scare me as much as it used to.

* * *

“Environmental subcommittee meeting at ten thirty,” my assistant, Reagan, said, running through the rest of my day. I’d been sworn in almost a month ago, and only now felt comfortable rolling up my sleeves to get started. I’d gotten involved with as much as I could, environmental policy being the start.

Two knocks on the door had everyone’s head poking up.

My secretary stood in the entryway. “Ma’am, Her Royal Highness, the Princess Miriam, is here to see you.”

My heart fluttered at the mention of my wife.

Miri?

Despite knowing she’d be flying in today, I hadn’t expected her to show up at the Capitol. A shot of excitement jolted through me as I stole a second glance at Reagan, who shook their head.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” they said. “I don’t have her on your itinerary.”

“It’s okay.” I stood and gestured her in. “The princess is an old friend.”

Miri appeared in the doorway wearing a navy blue wraparound dress that fell mid calf and matching suede pumps, clutching a handbag in the center of her body. Her bodyguards stood in the entry room beyond the door.

I drank her in, the soft waves of her brunette hair, the delicate juncture of her neck to her shoulder, where I loved to sink my teeth, and the swell of her breasts under all that fabric, perfect nipples that ached to be sucked. I’d never get over what she did to me when she looked at me like that, like I hung the sun in the sky.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I could come back later. I just assumed?—”

“It’s fine. Come in.” I glanced around at the rest of my cabinet, ignoring Giana’s narrowed gaze. “Everyone else, give us a few minutes.”

“Shall I bring you some water?” my secretary asked.

“We’re okay.”

She closed the door as I circled around to the seat behind my desk, watching Miri look at the modest space.

“Your Royal Highness,” I said. “To what do I owe this great pleasure?”

She smiled and took a step forward, making my pulse race at her possible intentions.

“I caught an earlier flight.” She absently ran a finger over the chair on the other side of my desk. “And I thought to myself, who would be most pleased about my early arrival?” Another step forward. “My husband? Pfft.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ve got two of those.”

I licked my lips and pushed my chair back from my desk, making room for her as she walked around it and came to stand in the V of my legs.

“My wife?” She leaned down to bring her face centimeters from mine. “Well, boys are a dime a dozen. There’s only one girl who has my heart.”

I closed the distance between our mouths, a moan barreling out of my throat as her scent hit me next—flowers and springtime and whiskey, sweet and beautiful. I stood and pushed her so the back of her legs hit my desk, my hands on her waist coaxing her to sit. Desperate to touch more of her, I ran my hands up her hips to her waist.

“I missed you,” I said around hungry, breathy kisses.

“I missed you, too.”

It had only been a month since Solstice, but I ached for her in ways only she could understand. We needed each other, the four of us, and after she’d offered to work on a joint effort to promote infrastructure for a new sustainability plan, we’d made our visits routine. She’d never shown up unannounced before.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I pulled back to look up at her brown eyes, but she nodded and kissed me again. Something in her expression didn’t ring true, and I thought about sneaking inside that brilliant brain. It would be so easy.

But…I’d promised. No telepathy without asking; only Lex and I had that free rein. If Miri wanted me to know, she would have told me. I kept my suspicions to myself and stood, but she glanced at a rough draft copy of the four-hundred-page bill I planned to present, a bill we’d planned together, sitting tidy in a binder on my desk.

She ran her fingers over it, giving me a small smile. “Tomorrow’s the big day.”

“It is.” I’d get up in front of my colleagues and plead our case. I’d sponsor the verbiage I helped create, and hopefully, fingers crossed, it would go to the Senate. After that, it was out of my hands.

“Are you nervous?” She gave me a soft smile.

“I’m always nervous right before.” The anticipation was the worst part.

“You’ll do great.”

“Because you’re here.” I ran my thumb over her knuckles, bringing them up for a kiss. “I always feel better when you’re here.”

I said it to make her smile, but she looked like she was on the verge of tears.

“Miri, what’s—” My secretary buzzed my phone, and annoyed, I pressed the speaker. “Yes, Joanna?”

“Your committee meeting starts in five minutes.”

“Thank you.” I hung up and looked at Miri, but she’d recovered and pulled a mask up around her emotions, brushing whatever that was under the rug. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, darling. Go to your meeting.” She smiled and gave me another kiss before turning to head back into the front room. “See you at home?”

I nodded, my focus catching on the sway of her hips as she walked away from me. Something about that look in her eye sent a nervous twist through my gut, so I pulled out my phone and texted Lex.

Me: Check on our wife. She just came by and looked upset.

Lex: Got it.

Perhaps this was the best part of our strange relationship. If I couldn’t be there for her, Lex could. And if not Lex, then Carter. We each had our own personal dynamics with the others, and though jealousy occasionally reared its head, we respected those bonds.

That was why the world would never understand, why we could never tell anyone the truth about us. Society wouldn’t see the shades of gray, too focused on things like inheritance and patriarchal traditions. It wouldn’t matter if Lex also loved Carter and Miri. It wouldn’t matter I’d never stopped loving any of them. They’d just see something foreign and unusual, and they’d try to crush it like a house spider.

Six years ago, I’d hated my mother for trying to control my public image. I’d been raised to believe anything I did would come back to haunt me, and now that I was here, I looked back on my younger self with pity. Who would I be if I’d been honest then? Who would I be if I’d dragged Lex to California to find our long-lost loves? How would this world be different?

Existential dread aside, I gathered my things and pursed my lips, stuffing my binder in my tote before leaving for my meeting.