The woman nodded and kissed Felix on the cheek before he slid out the other side. He grabbed a jacket and pulled it on, then stopped at a table on his way back, saying something to a girl with short brown hair. She twisted to look at August, and when her eyes narrowed, his heart dropped.
She recognized him.
August’s attention snapped to the studded painting. They clearly hated his family. What would happen if they knew? What would Felix say?
But the girl’s brow smoothed, the scrutiny shifting to indifference, and a second later Felix was back beside him, bringing with him the light scent of spices, like he’d spent the day cooking.
“Alright, ready.”
They stepped out into the bustling street, and August took a deep breath, trying to settle his nerves. The sky was streaked pink and orange with dusk, a chill settling in the air as night approached. A man in a tattered jacket paused to light a streetlamp with a flick of his hand, and August watched him warily as he passed.
“Lady Farrows,” Felix said as a girl in a ruffled dress hooked her arm through his. “You remember Henry, don’t you?”
The girl from the festival. Felix said he’d probably never see her again. So why was she here? Were they together?
Not that it was his business. Why would he care who Felix was courting? He wouldn’t. He didn’t.
She gave a polite greeting, which August automatically returned.
As Felix led her away from the pub, she leaned into him, and August followed, scolding himself for the pang of jealousy when she ruffled Felix’s hair.
After a short walk, they stopped on a small side street lined with lavish homes. Felix unlinked their arms to take a step back, and her expression darkened.
“You’re serious.” It wasn’t a question, and her voice was edged with something sharp. “We talked about this, Felix. I thought you agreed.”
He touched her gently beneath the chin, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Word would reach your father that you neglected his warning, and that wouldn’t end well for either of us.”
This seemed to placate her. “Perhaps you’re right.” She grabbed Felix by the lapels and pulled him into a deep kiss.
August turned away, heat rising to his face as resentment twisted in his chest.
That wouldn’t end well.It was a goodbye, August realized. Felix was saying goodbye. Ending whatever this was.
A flicker of satisfaction.
Stop that,August reprimanded himself.
Finally, Lady Farrows withdrew, hesitating a moment before heading up the stairs to the first residence.
After she stepped inside and closed the door behind her, Felix seemed to uncoil.
“So, Auggie,” he said as they walked. “Which are you upset about? That I didn’ttellyou or that Iamone?”
It took a moment to understand. August’s reaction to Felix being a wielder hadn’t been subtle. Of course he’d picked up on it.
August settled his expression to a neutral one, ensuring the storm in his head didn’t reach the surface, before he looked at Felix. “I’m not upset.”
With an evaluative glance, Felix said, “Youlookupset.”
August threw out his hands in a huff. “Why does everyone—that’s just my face!”
Felix grinned. “I didn’t mean to offend.” His gaze lowered, his inspection extending to the rest of August. A flash of something crossed Felix’s expression, too quick to pin down. Then it was gone, the grin settled back into place.
With a quirk of a brow, Felix asked, “So, mystery boy, which noble house are you from?”
The question made August flinch. “Why would you think I’m a noble?”
“You’re dressed like one.”
