“Now that I think about it, right after the fire a lot of people were saying that the baron’s daughter had survived,” said Justine. “But after a few days everyone was saying she was dead, too. I think I assumed that she had survived the blaze but then died of her injuries. But if she was shuffled off to the church and everyone forgot about her…”

Damn, thought Anne. Poor Eva. What a tragic backstory. But why was none of this in the original novel? Was it revealed later on, past the point where I had read? But Eva wasn’t really a major character, most of the time she was there…

“I have one more follow-up question, if you don’t mind,” said Corvina. Her expression was serious and focused. If she felt bad for Eva at all it didn’t show on her face.

“Yes?” said Justine. “I can’t guarantee I’ll remember much else, though.”

“Was there any sort of… magical quality to the fire?” asked Corvina. “Something that seemed unnatural?”

“Hmmm…” Justine considered this. “Now that you mention it, none of the surrounding buildings burned at all. Just that one house. Which was a bit odd, considering how closely the buildings in that area were packed together. I don’t know if that was magical, though. Fire can be very unpredictable. What kind of magic could control fire, even?”

“If you believe the church, then that sort of thing could be a miracle. Anything could be a miracle, after all,” said Corvina. “Or… it could have been true magic.”

Justine gasped. “But true magic is gone from the world, isn’t it?”

Then Liza, Justine’s young daughter, abruptly popped out of a nearby pile of books and said, “Actually, from what I can tell, true magic is just very rare, and it’s kind of taboo so people like to pretend it doesn’t exist anymore. But I think it can be triggered by a traumatic event early in life.”

“Liza, darling!” said Justine, a hand on her chest. “What were you doing under there?”

“Reading,” said Liza, holding up a particularly large tome. “I like to build a book fort around me when I read because then none of the servants can find me and interrupt my research.”

“Ah, well, that makes sense, then,” said Justine.

Anne already felt overwhelmed enough with everything that was going on, without adding a small child into the mix. Anne leaned down to be closer to Liza’s level and gently suggested, “Um… maybe you should go read in your room instead? Or we could go talk somewhere else? I think this is a conversation just for adults right now…”

“Nonsense,” said Justine. “Don’t talk down to my child. I’ve always allowed my daughters full autonomy and never gone out of my way to hide anything from them.”

“Really?” said Anne, standing back up. That’s certainly not how Anne’s parents had treated her when she was young, but her own childhood was the only thing she had to go on for how kids should be treated, and she had long been estranged from her parents, so maybe they weren’t the best example of good parenting…

It also occurred to Anne that this was a vaguely medieval fantasy world. So maybe their standards for child-rearing were just different.

“So then, in your opinion as a magical researcher, do you think the fire may have had something to do with true magic?” Corvina asked Liza, her expression serious.

Okay, thought Anne. I guess we’re all agreed on the nine year-old being part of this, then.

“Maybe,” said Liza. “That cleric you’re talking about told me some weird stuff about magic when I asked her about it. Or, well, what she actually told me was to stop looking into it, but the way she said it gave me some new ideas for how to go about my research! I still can’t find out what mana is, but I think maybe everyone has it? But most people can’t actually use it. But some people, when they go through an ‘extreme life-or-death situation—’” Liza pronounced these words with a careful staccato. “—they find a way to access their mana to save themselves. And then after that they can use magic all the time, even if they’re not in danger.”

“So you think Sister Eva may have accessed her mana to survive the fire and keep it from spreading?” asked Corvina.

Liza shrugged. “Or her life may have been threatened in some other way and her magic started the fire,” she said. “The book I read said that fire is one of the easier things to use true magic for accidentally. Cause mana is already kind of like fire or something? Well, the book didn’t use the words ‘true magic’ or ‘mana,’ which is why I hadn’t noticed it before, but I’m pretty sure that’s what it meant.”

Anne felt like everyone was already several steps ahead of her on all this and she was just doing her best to play catch-up. “Wait, you guys are saying that Eva can do magic?”

“Oh yeah, probably,” said Liza. “You should’ve seen how she dodged my questions before!” Liza giggled.

Corvina just looked at Anne. She seemed conflicted about something, but her eyes were also full of a sort of compassion or, like… pity, which seemed oddly condescending.

“I should have told you about my suspicions a lot earlier,” said Corvina. “I’m sorry. I wanted to have proof first. I’m not entirely sure all of this counts as proof, but it’s… certainly something.”

Anne started to put some of the pieces together and they didn’t form a very nice picture. “Can you just tell me what you mean, please?” she said.

Corvina shot Justine a pleading look. “I think I should talk to the Saintess alone for a while…” she said.

“Yes, of course,” said Justine. “Although I’d like to be filled in more fully later, as well. I don’t like the thought of my guests keeping secrets from me.”

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

“Of course,” said Corvina.

“Come along, honey,” said Justine, holding her hand out for Liza. “Let’s go take a walk in the garden.”

“Awww, but I was just getting to a good part!” said Liza, clutching her book closer. Anne could just barely read part of the title and it seemed to say ‘A History of Major Disasters in the Wyernwolf Empire From the—‘

“You can bring your book with us,” said Justine, and that seemed to appease the girl.

As the mother and daughter pair left the library, Corvina led Anne over to a small table next to a high window, where the natural light was shining through, reflecting off all the dust hanging in the air.

Corvina looked at Anne across the table. “I think Eva can perform true magic. And I think she’s been faking your miracles all along.”

“Oh,” said Anne.

There was no hint of anything like that in the original novel. Or was there? The Foundling’s Wings never really explained how the miracles worked. They just always worked when the original Anne really needed them to. Or sometimes they didn’t work, when it was a dramatic story beat. Was Eva always present every time they worked? And absent when they didn’t? Maybe. Anne hadn’t paid enough attention…

“Okay,” said Anne, accepting it.

Corvina was staring at her, watching her closely.

“That’s it?” said Corvina. “That’s your whole reaction?”

Anne shrugged. “I mean, it makes sense, I guess. I kind of thought I was just too stupid to figure out how my miracles work, but… yeah, that makes more sense.”

Anne saw the tension go out of Corvina’s body as she let out a sigh. She looked relieved. “I thought you might not believe me,” she said. “Or that you might get mad at me.”

“Why would I get mad at you?” asked Anne.

“Well, you got mad at me for—“ Corvina gestured vaguely, collectively indicating their past conflicts.

“I got mad at you because you kept things from me,” said Anne. “Not because you told me things.”

“So then are you mad at me for keeping this from you for so long?” asked Corvina. “I’ve suspected this ever since the miracle you performed in the capital, the one where you revealed you were an elf to the world.”

“That long?” said Anne, taken aback. She thought about it. Then she shook her head. “No, I’m not mad at you for that, either. Slightly annoyed, maybe, that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me before. But I can understand how it’s an odd thing to try to figure out for sure. Magic doesn’t exactly leave a lot of evidence. Even now, we can’t really be sure that’s what’s happening…”

“I’m almost entirely positive,” said Corvina. “It’s the only thing that ties everything together and makes it all make sense.”

“Okay, yeah…” said Anne. “But if we asked Eva about it—“

“No!” said Corvina, standing up in her chair and reaching across the table to grab Anne’s hand.

Anne was surprised by Corvina’s forcefulness, but she didn’t pull away. She just said, “But that’s the only real way to be sure about any of this. Like I was saying, magic doesn’t leave evidence, so…”

“If I’m right,” said Corvina, sternly but calmly, “Then Sister Eva is an incredibly powerful magician, and an emotionally unstable one, at that. It could be incredibly dangerous to confront her with this. We don’t know how she would react. For Goddess’ sake, it’s a real possibility that she murdered her own father as a child.”

“Maybe not on purpose,” said Anne. “We don’t know the details. And I may not know a lot about kids, but I’m pretty sure they don’t usually commit random murders for no reason. Plus, like… I know Eva has some boundary issues and she can be kind of controlling, but I don’t think she’s a bad person. And she’s nothing if not a loyal friend. I think she deserves the chance to tell her side of the story, at least.”

“Oh, please.” Corvina took a step back, rolling her eyes. “You usually have such strong insight into people’s hearts. Is Eva really such a blind spot for you? You can’t tell me that you haven’t seen a dangerous side to her.”

“Well, sure, maybe…” said Anne, with a shrug. “But not directed towards me.”

“Even Agis is scared of her,” Corvina pointed out.

“Yeah, and Agis is scared of his brothers, too,” said Anne. “He’s scared of anyone he thinks might judge him. That doesn’t make Eva dangerous.”

Corvina pinched the bridge of her nose. “Dangerous or not, I mostly worry that she’s unpredictable. It’s better to be cautious, just in case. Surely you can agree with that.”

“Okay, so I’ll talk to her by myself,” said Anne. “I’ll admit it’s often hard to tell what Eva’s thinking, but the one thing I’m absolutely certain of is that she’s on my side.”

“Yeah, because she’s in love with you!” said Corvina, exasperated. “She’s obsessed!”

“What?” said Anne, with a short laugh. “What are you talking about? We’re just childhood friends.”

“Maybe that’s how you see her,” said Corvina. “But I don’t think there’s anything ‘just’ about how Eva views you. That’s what scares me. I don’t know what she might do if she feels like her position in your life is being threatened.”

“There’s no way she’s in love with me,” countered Anne, shaking her head. She couldn’t understand why Corvina was being so serious about this. It was obviously a ridiculous notion.

Corvina rolled her eyes. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you.”

“She doesn’t even like girls!” said Anne. “She’s so straight she asked me if I was in love with Sebastian.”

Corvina raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not, for the record!” said Anne, standing up. She let out a puff of air, a sort of exasperated half-laugh. “Of course I’m not! What’s with the two of you?”

Corvina looked oddly relieved.

“Anyway, even if she did like girls, there’s no way she’d like me,” said Anne.

“Why? Why are you so convinced that it’s so impossible? I’m telling you, she’s obsessed with you. You must have noticed. She doesn’t have any other friends, any other hobbies, any other life that’s not centered around you. Did that really not seem strange to you?” asked Corvina. “Why are you so absolutely certain that it’s impossible that she could love you?”

“Because… because I’m me!” said Anne, gesturing to herself.

That statement hung heavy in the air for a moment.

“No one’s ever loved me before.” Anne shrugged. “I’m pretty confident no one will ever love me in the future, either. Not like that, anyway. I mean, look at me! I’m too masculine, and awkward, and weird, and goofy… I was never right for a leading lady role. If anything, I should be a comedic side character. Or just an extra in the background, even. I’m just… I’m just not the kind of person people fall in love with.”

“That’s not true,” said Corvina, in a soft voice. All the frustration and hostility had melted away from her face, leaving only… some expression Anne didn’t know how to read.

Anne half shrugged again, sort of shaking her head. She felt pathetic, admitting this kind of insecurity in front of Corvina. She didn’t want Corvina to pity her. It’s not like she even felt that bad about it, it was just… obvious to her. It was just reality. “I don’t need you to reassure me,” said Anne. “I know what kind of person I am. I’m the sort of person who’s everyone’s friend, but never anything more than that. It’s okay. I’ve come to terms with it.”

“I’m telling you, you’re wrong,” insisted Corvina.

“And how could you be so certain of that?” asked Anne. “You’re not me. You haven’t lived my life. You don’t know what it’s like. I bet half the world is in love with you.”

Corvina shook her head, stepping slowly around the table so she was closer to Anne. “I don’t really know or care how many people are in love with me,” she said. “And no, I’m not you. I haven’t lived your life. I don’t know what it’s like. But I do know that it’s not impossible to love you.”

“But how could you…” Anne stopped speaking, breathless, when Corvina gently took hold of her face in both hands.

“Because I’m in love with you,” said Corvina. “I, me, I love you. I love you.”