Because of me.
I poisoned the king. I made it possible for the Shadow Society to seize his home and stab Rixenda.
Tell him.
He will see how impossible our partnership truly is. It will be the swiftest and simplest way to be rid of him. I’ll no longer have to worry about him constantly peering over my shoulder and suspiciously watching my back—following me like he doesn’t trust me.
He shouldn’t trust you.
I wet my lips and turn, but he’s looking at me with the oddest expression. Thoughtful and faraway. “In a strange way, you remind me of Rixenda. Obsessed with your pots and recipes—she was mistress of the kitchens—and always ordering everyone about. Pretending to be prickly to hide the softness underneath.”
“I’m sure we’re nothing alike,” I say vehemently. But a warm, melty feeling is unspooling in my chest, and I jab the handle of my stirring spoon into my stomach to stop it.Tell him before he makes any more ridiculous comparisons.
But when I glance around the millinery and try to imagine the space without him in it, I can’t. The quiet is suffocating.
“I’m going out,” I announce.
“But it’s so late—”
“I need to think.”
“About what?”
About the fact I killed your father and feel guilty about it—and feel even guiltier for growing used to your company …“Viper’s Venom!” I practically shout. He won’t argue with that. I grab Father’s grimoire and head for the door. “Alone,” I add when I hear his footsteps follow. “I prefer to work out troubling compounds on my own.”
“I wouldn’t be much help anyway. I’ll just stay here and … not touch anything.” Josse’s voice is playful and altogether too familiar, and it sets a hoard of pesky butterflies to flapping in my belly.
I do the only sensible thing I can think to stop them. I slam the door and bury myself in my work.
14
JOSSE
I try not to be bothersome, really I do, but after five days of watching Mirabelle slave over her curatives from dawn until dusk and experiment through the night, working out the antidote to Viper’s Venom, I’m feeling rather bored and useless. Like the universe is having a good laugh at my expense. I had suggested she hide out and do nothing, which is precisely whatI’mdoing now.
I’m also desperate to see my sisters. It’s been nearly a week. They haven’t a clue if I’m alive, or if I’m ever coming back. And I haven’t a clue how they’re healing. Mirabelle keeps assuring me they should be back to full strength, but I won’t relax until I see it for myself. And I cannot return to the sewer until we’ve good news to report to Louis and Desgrez. Which means we need to leave this miserable shop and begin distributing tinctures and tonics.
“I know you’resensitiveabout other people touching your supplies, but perhaps if I help, the work will go twice as fast,” I suggest yet again, only now I’ve resorted to begging. “I’ll do exactly as you say. You can even measure the herbs and hand me the appropriate phials so I don’t foul up your organization.”Even though there doesn’t seem to be any method of organization.Herbs are scattered across the table and half the phials are tipped on their sides.
Mirabelle pauses in the middle of stirring some fever draught or another and wipes her sleeve across her forehead. It sends her close-cropped curls into disarray. “What about either of those things sounds quicker than simply doing it myself?”
“If you’d just allow me to—”
“What are the four humours? What is the difference between fusion and fixation? How do you operate an alembic?”
“Oh, hell, not the questions again! You know I don’t know the answers.”
“Then you’re not prepared to work as an alchemist. It’s a precise science that requires a lifetime of study. It isn’t something you can—”
I let my forehead plunk against the wall. “Are you almost finished, then? Not that I’m trying to rush you,” I add when she shoots me a withering look.
“I will never befinished.There will always be more curatives to brew.”
“Yes, yes, of course. What I meant to say is, have you brewed enough to begin the actual healing portion of our plan?”
“Are you growing weary of my company, princeling?”
At moments like this, I want to shout a resoundingYES!But I bite my tongue because from the way she accentuatesprinceling,it’s clearly no longer a slight. It isn’t a compliment, by any means, but I’m fairly positive she’s growing less weary of my company. And aside from feeling utterly worthless, I’ve almost come to enjoy watching her work. It’s fascinating to see how seemingly common ingredients combine into powerful elixirs. Nearly as fascinating as watching Mirabelle herself. Her eyes take on this glassy, dreamlike quality, and she becomes a part of the laboratory—her arms are the spoons, her hands the phials, and with every pinch of herbs, she adds a bit of herself into the elixirs.
