I want it.
I want this.
I want her.
“So, Iris,” Flora says, in the casual tone of someone who isabsolutelyup to something, “are you seeing anyone in Mythara?”
I drop my fork with aclang.
Iris blinks. “What?”
“Just curious,” Flora says, all sweetness and wide-eyed innocence. “You’re a smart, charming, beautiful woman living in one of the most vibrant cities on M’mir—someone must be trying to sweep you off your feet.”
I cough. Loudly.
Davrin slaps my back like I’m choking. “You alright there, big guy?”
I glare at him.
Iris, bless her, blushes and waves a hand. “Oh—uh, no, no one special. Mythara’s beautiful, but it’s mostly scholars and old librarians. Most of them think ‘flirting’ means complimenting my organizational system.”
Flora gasps. “Tragic.”
“It is,” Iris agrees, dunking another piece of bread into her sauce like she needs it to survive this conversation. “The last person to flirt with me told me my cataloging logic was ‘exquisite.’”
Davrin leans in, grinning. “Kinky.”
I groan.
Ivarr, from the end of the table, chuckles deeply. “Sounds like competition’s slim out there, Garrik.”
“Oh my gods,” I mutter under my breath.
Iris laughs. “Honestly, I’m not really…looking.” She glances at me—quick, uncertain. “I mean, not seriously. I’ve been focusing on work. Trying to settle in. The Grand Library’s a lot.”
Flora rests her chin on her palm, smiling like a cat with cream. “So what I’m hearing is: available.”
Davrin lets out a low whistle.
Pan, utterly oblivious to the tension, pipes up with, “What’s ‘available’ mean?”
“It means Iris is probably staying the night,” Flora says smoothly.
“What?!” I say.
“Hmm?” Flora bats her lashes at me. “You didn’t think we were going to send her back to Mythara this late, did you? The trains will be half shut down by the time we’re done with dessert. Besides…” She raises an eyebrow. “You do have a guest room. Unless you’ve turned that into a shrine to your bees.”
I scowl. “No, that’s Davrin’s room.”
“Hey!” Davrin protests.
“I don’t mind taking the train,” Iris says quickly, but there’s hesitation in her voice. “Really, I didn’t mean to impose.”
“You’re not,” Flora says firmly. “You’re family now. You’re staying.”
“Exactly!” Pan chirps. “We can make pancakes tomorrow!”
“I make pancakes,” I mutter.
