Maybe the effect is lessened if you’re around her more.
“It’s not your job to abandon your own work because I don’t like crowds,” she tells him.
Oh, that’s what she didn’t quite say earlier.
If everyone reacts to her like they’ve been struck across the face with a magical backlash, I can see why.
“What were you working on today?” Teren asks, not actually agreeing with her.
I exchange a glance with Zan, who looks back at me with some amusement.
Aha.
I dig around the edges of the tub and listen intently.
“Another boot painting,” Sunani says. “Apparently one of them actually sold—”
“What?” I gasp, my head shooting up.
Teren smacks his forehead. “Of course! I didn’t think you might want to see them.”
It’s Sunani’s turn to blink. “What?”
I hike my leg up onto the table and point at my boot. “Youmade these?!”
Teren mutters, “Howare you this flexible.”
I wave him off. “You’ll be more flexible too once you start actually doing your exercises.”
“Hey, how can you tell—”
I roll my eyes. “You’re not moving like a person who’s sore, are you?”
I look back at Sunani expectantly, who has gone from staring at my foot in surprise to smiling a little.
“Haben makes the boots, but I painted them,” Sunani admits.
Ha! I knew it.
“But given the price, I never really thought—”
“Don’t tell her,” Zan says sharply.
I put my boot down and level an accusing finger at him again.
He crosses his arms. “My resources are mine to spend how I choose.”
“And I can punch you any time I want,” I remind him in turn.
Zan’s lips curve.
Teren says dryly to Sunani, “They’re always like this.”
“I see,” she says faintly.
“Sunani is a painter,” Teren explains to me. “She’s been experimenting with different mediums lately.”
I finish getting Sunani her ice cream.
