Wow. Her beauty is almost as much of a curse as sage power.
I take a bolstering sip of my own tea as I ponder that, the liquid warming me from within as that revelation turns into another.
“Maybe she should share a table with me then,” I muse. “I can just punch anyone who bothers her.”
Next to me, Zan snorts.
Wryly, Teren says, “I don’t think she would be comfortable with that.”
“Well, then why haven’t you invited her to share with you? I realize she can’t exactly paint your knitwork, but your sage power is perfectly suited to keeping her safe. You can keep her comfortable and deflect other people with your social skill.”
Teren’s cheeks flame. “Inviting her to share with just me when we don’t have common business interests would be a different kind of declaration.”
Huh, noted. “Is it not the kind you want?”
“Are you sure you’re not the Sage of Awkwardness?” Teren grumps.
I grin sharply. “Pretty sure.”
The waiter returns with our food, which was faster than I expected, but soon I realize why: most of it didn’t need cooking. Teren has a sandwich of some kind, and Zan... I peer over.
He picked out more foods I wouldn’t have tried deliberately. Still trying to help me, even while he’s planning to leave me.
Zan has abigsalad—more than I’d want to eat at once, but I guess I did feed him alotof ice cream yesterday—with a different leaf, a different yellow fruit, cucumbernotpickled, red onions, teeny tomatoes, big globs of cheese, and chunks of some kind of glazed white fish.
I try to imagine what that must taste like all together and can’t. The food of my youth was... simpler, generally. Perfectly nutritious, but not fancy or complicated.
I was a tool, not a guest to please.
“Try yours first,” Zan murmurs to me. “We can scrape the avocado off if you don’t like it.”
Good point. I have to know what this mystery food is.
I take a bite; consider.
Hmm.
Teren is watching me expectedly, and I point at him. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten that you haven’t answered me.”
He sighs as I take a bigger bite.
I think I do like whatever this is.
“I don’t want to risk ruining what friendship we have,” Teren says seriously. “Right now, she knows I’m safe to talk to because I won’t try to pressure her into a romantic relationship like every other person in this town who’s attracted to women and only cares about her looks.”
I frown. “They don’t appreciate her art too?”
Teren shakes his head. “Did you know she’s self-taught? Nomi taught me how to knit. The amount of time and effort it takes to figure everything out on your own... And yet people treat it like it’s some cute hobby she has. Like she’ll give it up once she has ababy. Or like it’s a quirk they’re willing to indulge because she’s beautiful and it’s inoffensive. Or they go so overboard with the flattery that it’s clear they’re just trying to get in her pants, you know? They want a trophy, not a person. They don’tseeher.”
Like Zan sees me.
I swallow the last bite of my sandwich over a suddenly tight throat. Okay, avocado goes firmly in the like column.
“You do see her, though,” Zan says quietly.
“And what do I have to offer her?” Teren shoots back. “A target on her back?”
I ask, “How about blankets?”
