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“Ah, you’re up,” Mom said when she saw me, then paused to take a sip of tea. “I figured we could work on some exercises later today, Deneb.”
“He’s going over to John’s today,” Dad said between bites of menemen. “He needs some charms done—apparently his well has dried up.”
I poured myself some tea from the copper çaydanlık and watered the hell out of it, which was a nice, convenient excuse not to look at either of them. Mom liked hers really strong, but it was too bitter for me like that. I dropped a couple of cubes of beet sugar in it, too, just to make sure, and maybe also as an excuse to avoid confronting what I knew was coming.
“If John’s having trouble with his well, I can go,” Mom said.
“No, I want Deneb to go,” Dad said. “He and his friends got into John’s cherry wine yesterday.”
Puberty is already rough enough when you're a tiefling—Deneb doesn't need curse bullshit on top of that.