It was said so lightly he felt the need to defend Clara. Sure, she was hard to get along with, but that wasn’t entirely her fault. “She’s not being a bitch. We just have vastly different training, which produces entirely different ways of looking at things.”
“Need a third opinion?”
“I’m not sure that would help.”
“Ah, yes, Clara’s obvious dislike for me. Though, we did have an interesting conversation last night.”
“She doesn’t dislike you.” Carver shook his head, “A conversation about what?”
“She does, and that’s perfectly fine. I’m not her biggest fan either. We’re all just playing the roles required of us.” She stopped speaking, not answering his second question.
“Well said.” He replied, deciding not to press though his mind was spinning.
A man came to the front and asked Marsh if she had a certain book in stock. She directed the man towards the back, and followed him to help him find the edition. Carver used thechance to slip out the door. He enjoyed talking to her, but he didn’t enjoy bashing Clara.
It was a weird in between. He agreed with a lot of what Marsh said. Clara wasn’t very nice. She was hard to get along with. She was so opinionated on every. Single. Thing. She definitely didn’t like Marsh. But for Marsh to speak so harshly about Clara? It felt like some sort of personal offense.
Here he was, still trying to protect the girl who absolutely did not want his protection.
The festival was louder today. Every beat of the drums playing on the corner resonated within his chest. He had never struggled with anxiety, but he felt the enormity of their assignment weighing on him in a way he couldn’t verbalize.
He found a stand that sold sandwiches, and bought three–the extra one for Clara, even though she had said she didn’t want anything. She would change her mind when he got back with the food. Plus, he would rather come bearing food and her not want it, than come empty handed and be ostracized for not having read her mind. Women.
He wasn’t ready to go in just yet, so he wandered back to the stand they stopped at the day before. The one with the gold necklace and red jewel that Clara had liked so much. It was still there. He was relieved. He wasn’t sure when he had decided that he would be coming back to buy it, but it felt like something he had decided a long time before. He saw her with the necklace, knew how pretty it would look on her, and subconsciously knew he would come back and buy it for her.
She’d no doubt be mad at him for it. Claim they could have spent their money better elsewhere. Claim he was only doing it to make amends.
The last part was partially true. He did want to make amends. But he wasn’t stupid enough to believe a single necklace would fix all of their past issues. “How much for this necklace?”
He asked the woman behind the counter. She grinned at him, “Ah, for your wife?”
“No, just a friend.”If she could even be called that.
“A friend?” The woman didn’t sound like she believed him.Yes, a friend. Well, no, my partner. She kissed me yesterday, but today she wants to murder me. Oh, and we have to get along or our kingdom will be destroyed. But yeah, a friend.
“Yes ma’am, how much for the necklace?” Carver didn’t have time for the back and forth debate on the status of his relationship. He also wouldn’t be talked into buying anything else.
She gave him a look, but also gave him a price. He paid it, and waited as she put the necklace in a delicate box. It was just small enough that it fit in his pocket. He thanked her and headed back to the bookstore.
Marsh had slipped the closed sign over the door for lunch. He walked to the back and let himself inside silently.
“You don’t have to act like this, you know.” Marsh’s voice was raised, and Carver instinctively shrunk against the wall to continue listening as he inched towards the kitchen.
“I’m not ‘acting’ like anything!” Clara’s voice was also raised. This should be interesting.
“I only want to help.”
“Oh, your help is so appreciated. You want to help yourself right into Carver’s bed, I’m sure.”
A glass was slammed onto the counter. “Clara, for gods’ sakes, get your head out of your rear and back in the mission! I have no desire to have your boyfriend.”
“He’s not my?—”
“I do not care. You cannot come into my house and constantly disrespect me. You don’t have to like me. We don’t have to be friends. But you do have to respect me, in my home, which I opened to you.”
“Respect goes both ways.”
Marsh laughed sharply, “Hon, a lot of things go both ways. But if you attempted to act like a normal human, you’d find that interactions aren’t actually that difficult. Shocking, right?”
