“Marriage is back on the table, and I will accept all of the latter.”
“Do not insult me.”
“It should be flattering, as you are quite unpleasant. You’re lucky I find it endearing.”
“I am happy being a spinster, thank you very much.”
“What are the rules of your Nest?” he asked as we continued along the path into the heart of town.
“Autonomy, sustainability, utilitarianism,” I droned.
“I would like to know a bit more about your little terms before I add them to our barter.”
“You are a smart man, Mr. Forbes. I know you understand those words quite well,” I started. “All that matters is the Nest’s well-being.”
“The community?”
“Yes, like making distasteful men disappear.”
“Ah, still on that same old grift?”
“It has changed.”
“How so?”
“Turns out I can squeeze a small amount of good out of things like you. Medicine and poison.”
“I would love to dig inside that mind of yours someday.” Silas gave me a look that might be something like amusement. “I can accept those additions. But my initial term stays intact.”
“Well, I have a week to say no.”
“Which means you have a week to decide whether you prefer diamonds, rubies, or emeralds.”
“Whichever strains your wallet more,” I murmured. “The answer is still no, even if you brought me a jewel the size of my head.”
We stopped by the butcher’s. It was my turn to pick up fresh ingredients for dinner, as we had run out of meat. We still had more than enough potatoes and jarred items for a stew.
“Alina!” The stout man from behind the counter called, though he eyed Silas as if he were surprised at the company. I did not blame him; usually, my errands were my only alone time. Unfortunately for me, today I had company. “What will it be? The usual?”
“Yes, eight pounds,” I replied.
The butcher acknowledged my request with a simple nod, though he was already reaching for the cuts I usually chose. My usual was always an economic cut of beef so that we could make three days’ worth of leftovers for the girls.
“Why do you get such cheap cuts?” Silas furrowed his brows.
“How else do you feed a large group?”
“Hopefully with something higher quality. Has the poison business been slow?” He teased me.
“Hush,” I muttered as the butcher returned with the neatly wrapped cuts in a brown paper secured with twine.
“I have not kept up with the current market for pharmaceuticals; has it been treating you well since arriving?” Silas asked as I finished paying and receiving my change.
“Booming, actually. For my shop, at least,” I said as we departed.
“Is there such a demand for your miracle elixirs?”
“Of course.”
