Keeper of the Lost Cities: Rebuild [COMPLETED]

Chapter Fifty-Four - STINA

Stina blamed Sophie Foster for all her problems—namely one: her mother.

Vika had been absent from Sterling Gables for about as long as Stina had been in St. Louis, on a mission for the Council or something. The past week had been filled with blissful whinnying free of barked orders. Stina could do what she wanted, when she wanted to, and today she was in the stables petting Lrya and her baby when she heard the wooden doors creak open.

"I'm surprised to see you dilly-dallying," Vika said, tone seeping with disappointment.

Or maybe that was Stina's imagination. Her mother wasn't always hard on her, but when it came to work... "I'm taking a break."

"Oh, really? And how long has this break lasted? A few hours?"

Stina wanted to respond with something snippy, but for some reason the words wouldn't come. "A... a week. But there was a big battle, so—"

"'Big battle'?" snorted Vika. "I heard about that from the Vackers, and from what I could decipher, you didn't do anything. Honestly, Stina, if you're ever going to be successful in life, you need to—"

"Be like Sophie Foster?" Stina finished. She nearly regretted the words, but then she saw the look on her mother's face and decided nah, they were totally worth it. "See, the thing is, Mom, you're becoming way too predictable with your monologues. I don't know why you want me to be Sophie of all people—"

"Because Sophie is important."

"And I'm not?" she snapped back, voice rising. "Normal parents don't tell their children to be like someone else."

"It's for your own good! Don't you want to be known?"

"Not as Sophie Foster! I'm Stina Heks, unfortunately your daughter, and nothing can change that!"

Vika shook her head. "You can't change because you won't."

"No! You're not listening—I! Am! Not! Sophie! Foster! I don't want to be, and frankly, I don't think you really want me to be either."

"Of course I don't want you to be that pompous, stuck-up child! But at least she has attracted the eyes of at least three elves, saved the world, and become one of the biggest known names across the Lost Cities. You may not aspire to that, Stina, but you don't know what you want. I push you toward success because of our family's history—you know how difficult being Talentless was on your father, how much harder he's had to work to make a name for us."

"Mom... you're not pushing me toward success—you're pushing me toward failure. Because even the best cons have to tell the truth at some time, and I refuse to play being the Moonlark."

Vika laughed mirthlessly but said no more, retreating back the way she'd come. Stina didn't care if her mother was furious; she'd... stood up for herself. Against Vika Heks.

"I am such an idiot," she laughed to herself, stroking Lyra's purple mane. She only got a few more pats in before her Imparter rang. When she answered, Fitz's face popped on the screen.

"Hey!" he said.

"Hullo, Chandelier Head. Are you outside?" She squinted at the tiny screen, making out emerald and sapphire behind him, reflecting a brightness—presumably the sun.

"Yeah, I'm actually in Eternalia. I kind of wanted to talk to you, if that's okay."

She flipped her hair. "Yep, well, I'm not surprised. Meet you there in five minutes?"

He flashed his incredibly symmetrical smile. "It's a date!"

____________________

Date. Did he mean "date" date? Or just a time and place we're meeting?

Overthinking was not Stina's most frequented skill, and she decided then and there that she did not like it. It gave her a headache—or maybe that was due to the light being reflected into her corneas from the dozens of jeweled buildings. Everyone she passed seemed to be different—different species, different height, different gait—but they all had their cheeriness in common; it was the first day of complete sunshine in the elvin capital since the Battle of Eternalia.

Stina was no exception, though her giddiness was due not to the sun but to the realization she had come to: she most definitely was not Sophie Elizabeth Foster. Stina had stood up to her mother, someone who Sophie had even admitted was intimidating.

So by certain definitions, I'm way better than Sophie Foster.

That was a nice thought.

"Stina!" Fitz called. It took her a second to spot the head of dark hair peeking above the crowd of ogres who were totally taking up the whole street. He was standing in front of the Seat of Eminence.

She shoved her way through the ogre group. "Ewwwwww, I think I need to burn these clothes now."

Fitz shrugged. "I like those clothes on you."

She glanced down at the aquamarine gown she'd thrown on (admittedly because it sort of matched Fitz's eyes). When she looked back up, he was blushing.

"That's not—I didn't mean—ugh, that not what I asked you here to talk about." He ran a hand through his hair. "What you said in the tent... You know, a week ago—"

"Hold your horses—I thought we decided to not talk about that!"

"Yeah, but I really think—"

"It's seriously fine, Chandelier Head—"

"I know, but I just wanted to say—"

"How about you don't say anything at all—"

"—I'm flattered."

Stina's mouth froze in an open position. Fitzroy was... "flattered"? Wasn't that what people said before they rejected someone?

Fitz held up his hands. "It's not that I... Well, what I feel doesn't really matter is all I'm saying."

"I knew you weren't the brightest crayon in the box, but you're not that stupid," Stina said. "Obviously your feelings matter."

"Sure, when I'm actually allowed to have them."

"Wait, so you're saying..."

"I made my decision. I've decided to continue being a Councillor—and not out of guilt anymore. It's really what I want to do; help people, that is. And right now, this is the easiest way I can do that."

Stina knew it didn't really matter, but her brain couldn't help getting stuck on the "right now" part of his Get Rejected! speech. For good measure, she brushed her hand against his arm to get a reading, and... there. There was a little something. She couldn't tell if it was for her, but it was there, alive, a little sapling, and if she watered it... maybe it would grow.

But... what if it wasn't for her?

"Why are you smiling?" Fitz asked her.

"I'm not—well, okay, hear me out on this—I know the Councillor path was always the one Maruca would've chosen for you. And, since I've already embarrassed myself in front of you once, I might as well do it again and ask if that means you've chosen her?"

Fitz made an exasperated noise. "Chosen her? I'm a Councillor, Stina—that means I haven't chosen anybody."

"Yeah, but you could quit."

He laughed, and the way the corners of his mouth quirked up made both her stomach flutter and her mind cringe at how ridiculous she was being. "I just got started, okay? I don't think I'm going to be quitting anytime soon."

Stina arched a brow, at least one useful trait she'd learned from her mother, and bopped him on the nose. He seemed startled, and she relished in his obliviousness; he had no idea what was coming for him.

"We'll see about that," she chirped, before spinning around and skipping away.