“The same way they all know Poison Ivy.”
The captain’s voice is thick and heady, every word laced with the promise of danger. We stand there in pointed silence, each sizing the other up. The first moves in a deadly game that I must win. He may bring armies to heel, but he has no power over me.
Quinn clears her throat. “I’m going to grab us some cake. Don’t … run away, I guess?”
Captain Murphy takes a step closer, looming over me in our continued stare down. Squaring my shoulders, I let my powerrise to the surface of my skin. I wouldn’t dare use it here, but just knowing that it’s ready and willing steels my resolve.
His eyes flit close momentarily, reopening to reveal something more akin to pools of molten silver. “Are you planning to run away?”
“I don’t run away. Not from anyone or anything.”
The captain dips his head, black hair falling over his brow as the heat of his breath warms my ear. His low, whispered words brush against my skin like silk. “Your reputation precedes you.”
Time seems to slow at his words, the sounds of the crowd around us fading as thunder booms outside the large floor-to-ceiling windows. His figure is haloed in a flash of white lightning as he steps back.
“Any enemies besides the Lord General that I need to be aware of before we leave, poison?”
“Anyone who calls me poison is my enemy. Does that clear things up, Captain?”
Captain Murphy nods, a sly smirk on his face and a twinkle in his eye as he says, “See you at dawn, my lady,” before disappearing like a phantom into the crowd.
“Thank you, Lady Adler,” I say, taking the plate of strawberry cake from Quinn’s waiting hand when she finally reappears. “Took you long enough.”
“Ivy, don’t. I’m not fighting with you on your birthday.”
“It’s not a fight,” I correct. “You took a long time … and you insist on following the archaic tradition of betrothal that absolves you of your agency.”
Quinn snatches the plate from my hand and deposits it on the tray of a passing servant. Heat colors her fair cheeks as she grabs my hand and half drags me from the dining room and into an alcove off the main hall.
“Is it too much to ask for my best friend to support my choice?” She finally asks when we’re away from prying ears.
“Is it too much to hope my best friend would marry for love instead of some family alliance?” I counter.
Quinn’s anger dissolves in an exasperated sigh, a sad smile forming in its place. “I know your anger comes from a good place, but you have to understand. I am trying to love Nick.”
“Even with that monstrosity on his face?” Quinn lets out a half laugh at my attempt at a joke. There’s an unmistakable sadness in her eyes that stabs like a knife into my aching heart.
“Quinn,” I start, “you don’ttryto love people. You either love them or you don’t.”
Her fingers move to her golden hair, twisting and twirling the strands as she avoids my gaze. “I don’t think love is that simple. I think … if you really want something … well, I think it grows.”
“Hopefully it grows better than his attempt at a mustache,” I joke again, a single tear leaking from my eye to mirror hers. “Listen, maybe you’re right. What do I know? I can count the people I love on one hand.”
“I count myself lucky to be on that hand.” Quinn cups my cheeks as she continues. “And I won’t let you leave thinking I don’t. What happened … it’s in the past. We have futures to look forward to.”
We stay like that, basking in the moment as the disagreement that settled between us this past week dissolves. I don’t tell her of my fears of never returning or the strange feeling that eats atmy seams with each passing moment. We simply relish in the present until it stretches thin, popping like a bubble and forcing us into what lies ahead.
“There you are!” Miles calls out as he rounds the corner, three glasses of amber liquid in his hands. “Who wants to get into a little trouble on Ivy’s last night in Emerald?”
“Haven’t you found enough trouble,” I tease. “Actually, I think I saw Lady Powell alone ...”
“Perhaps I should go get Captain Murphy,” Miles quips back. “I don’t know what you said to him, but he looked as if he wanted to devour you. And I did promise to pay you back, after all.”
“Miles,” Quinn chimes in, taking a glass from his hand, “I think we’ll need an entire bottle of whiskey for that. You know Ivy prefers her men in a mask.”
“That’s enough, both of you.”
“Did youseethose muscles, though? Absolutely terrifying … and delicious,” Quinn adds.
