“Careful,” I call. “Those are poisonous.”
He backs away, and I roll my eyes. Am I really betrothed to a man who can’t tell the difference between a false chanterelle and a real one?
I finish planting the manchineel sapling. “You’re so beautiful,” I croon to it. “You’re doing so well. You’re going to grow big and produce some lovely poison apples for me, yes, you are.”
“Poison apples?” My intended is right behind me. I glare at him. I’m not ashamed to be caught talking to my plants, but I don’t want him here, killing the vibe. If he insults my babies, I’ll put poison ivy in his underwear.
Unfortunately, he’s standing in a patch of sunlight, and his blond hair blazes like a crown. It’s down around his shoulders, looking silky and a little curly from the humidity.
He looks like a work of art, dammit.
“This is the most poisonous tree in the world. Every part of it will kill you. If you try to kill it with fire, the smoke will destroy your eyes. Once it’s grown, I’m going to see if I can use the fruit to make jam. For Winter Solstice.” I give him a sappy smile. “Doesn’t that sound nice?”
No reaction. He might as well be a statue. An obnoxiously well-sculpted statue.
Ugh. “Just assume everything in here will kill you,” I tell him in a monotone voice. “It’ll save time.”
“Why would you even want to plant something so deadly?” He’s moved closer to the sapling. I just told him it would kill him, and here he is, looking even more enthralled.
I understand the feeling.
I sidle sideways, keeping the tree between us. I study him through the spindly branches. “You’re like everyone,” I scoff. “You want the power these plants give you. You want to use them, but you don’t respect them. You want control of the poison inside them, but deep down, you know you can never own them. At any point, they can be used against you. It drives you crazy.” I brush my hand over the leaves, caressing them. Inviting him to do the same.
He doesn’t make a move to touch the tree. Or me. He’s too smart for that.
But I didn’t really think that poisoning him would be that easy.
“You crave the danger. The high it gives you. And if you’d only take a moment and the trouble to appreciate the beauty in front of you…” I brush my lips over the leaves, then take a branch and lick the sap. My skin begins to burn, but it quickly fades to a pleasant tingle. “You could know the sweet taste of oblivion.”
I lick the peppery afterburn off my lips. “Come and kiss me, lover.” I flick my tongue at him. “It might hurt, but… it’ll be worth it.”
His eyes darken, a storm brewing over the ocean.
He’s tempted to prove he’s strong enough to master me. But he’s still planning how to do it. He makes no move.
“What, are you scared? Too afraid to touch me?” I laugh in his face.
Still, he doesn’t react. Most men his size would lose it if a woman taunted him like this. But he’s still patiently waiting, watching, studying me. Interesting.
I turn away, determined to act indifferent even if my skin prickles under his stare. I grab a broom to clean up. “I’m not marrying you.”
“You’ll do as you’re told.”
“Why marriage?”
“It’s how things are done. It’s a clear sign of an alliance between Fraternitas and the Poisoner. Your father.”
I flush a little under my clothes. He’s only doing this out of obligation. I’m a pawn on the board, and he’s the knight who’s captured me. Nothing personal, it’s all part of the game.
I guess a part of me hoped he wanted me. A sad, pathetic part that I need to cull, if I’m going to become as powerful as I want to be.
Kaiser doesn’t want me for me. I’m a job he’s been assigned to complete. I should’ve nipped my crush in the bud.
“Everyone will look at our union and assume my father is under Fraternitas control. Why else would he give up his beloved heir?” I think out loud, proving that I understand the stakes. “And in a way, he is under your control. Because if he betrays you, you will hurt me. I’m a hostage.” I’m not asking if this is true; I already know it.
“You understand. It’s nothing personal.”
“Okay, Curly.”
