Pavo led the way to the grand salon while Manon went to make coffee. A jacaranda tree in full bloom grew in the center of a hexagonal room that could not possibly fit into the little shop they had just entered. Gilded mirrors along the salon’s walls reflected the flowering tree, propagating it into an infinite purple forest. Warm, earthy, and green scents drew Raya deeper into the woods.
The jacaranda’s blooming branches dipped to the salon’s moss-covered floor, twisting themselves into seating and shelves. Faceted perfume bottles sparkled on the branches, clinging to the tree like dew. Heftier colorful bottles sat in nests of spun gold. Each bottlewas uniquely adorned with precious stones and metals, teasing the story of the fragrance within it. Raya stuffed her hands into her pockets to keep herself from picking up and smelling every perfume she walked past.
“How do we know that Manon isn’t lying about time stopping?” Q looked back at the hallway that led to the door. “I think we should leave.”
Raya turned her hand over, showing off her knot. It was frozen in place. “If you believe this knot, then Manon’s telling the truth.”
Q looked at the knot on his palm. It had stopped moving too. His shoulders softened. “I suppose we could use a break.”
“When you welcome catching your breath in what could possibly be a contraband den, you know you’re tired.”
“Tired is an understatement,” Q said.
Raya caught her reflection in one of the salon’s mirrors and grimaced. She attempted to retie her hair and glanced at the empty spot where she kept her spare hair ties. She groaned, letting her hair fall.
“Allow me.” Q smiled, plucking from his pocket the scarf he had bought from Alain. He walked behind Raya and smoothed back her hair, his fingertips flitting over her nape.
A current ran across Raya’s skin, quickening her pulse. “This…um…was not how I imagined spending my evening,” she said, forcing herself to ignore the heat spreading up her neck and over her cheeks as Q’s long fingers combed through her hair. “I thought I’d be curled up in bed, eating an entire pint of chocolate ice cream. With a drizzle of salted caramel sauce if I was feeling adventurous.”
“Daring girl.” Q smiled. “This wasn’t how I imagined my evening would go either. This is infinitely better.”
“Better?”
“I can see.”
“Oh god. Right. Of course. I feel like an idiot for even asking.”
“Don’t. With everything that’s happened tonight, I’d understand if you forgot my name. Besides, I can’t wait to start my life on this train and forget that I was ever blind too, Rachel.” He grinned.
Raya laughed. “I deserved that.”
“There.” He secured Raya’s hair in the scarf. “All done.”
Raya looked into the mirror, her hair neater than she ever wore it. “Wow. This actually might be more impressive than your painting skills.”
“There were days after my father died when my mother couldn’t bring herself to get out of bed, eat, or even brush her hair. I couldn’t make her smile, but I learned to do what I could.”
“Oh,” Raya said quietly.
He tucked a loose strand behind Raya’s ear, looking at her and nothing else.
Raya’s face grew warm beneath his gaze. “What are you staringat?”
“Nothing.” His cheeks flushed. “I was just…um…” He cleared his throat and plucked a perfume bottle from a nest. He examined it, seemingly intensely enamored by its faceted stopper. “I was just thinking about how these scents are going to have a difficult time living up to their bottles.”
“Oh.” Heat receded from Raya’s face, leaving her cheeks cold. “I know what you mean. I would hate to have that kind of pressure.”
“That’s not something you have to worry about.” Q winced. “That didn’t come out right. I didn’t mean you’re a dull bottle. You’re beautiful. Breathtaking, really. Which is not even the slightest bit important. God. Words. I hate them. I’m going to shut up now.”
Their tether tugged at their ribs, making them laugh.
Q’s gaze returned to Raya, reticent, then smiling, like someone coming home. She smiled back. “Your bottle’s not too bad either.”
“Not bad?” he said, pretending to be offended. “That’s all I get?”
Raya rolled her eyes. “Fine. You’re recyclable too.”
Manon glided into the salon carrying a French coffee press and three cups decorated with a hummingbird motif on a silver tray. She set the tray on a branch that had twisted itself into a small table. Notes of dark-roasted coffee, chocolate, and cinnamon wafted up from the tray. Manon walked over to Raya and Q, the hand-painted chrysanthemums on her robe rippling behind her. “Have you had a chance to look around?”
