I knew he was right. We’d only draw attention to ourselves and end up fleeing again. It would simply be another setback to our goal. I straightened my spine, walking with a confidence I’d never really had in the streets of Kavios. We would take care of this, but first, I needed to determine if I envied my father.
With how poorly our attempt to enter Alaric’s workshop had gone, I was on edge as we let ourselves into my father’s. Although, considering the shop Father’s truly was laughable. After Mother’s accident, Father had all but stopped working. I was eight when I began to shape quartz on my own and talk to customers like I knew what I was doing. It was only Alaric’s tutelage that had seen me through.
Our shop had a back entrance, making it easier to enter unseen. I took a deep breath and searched the familiar space.Over time, it had come to look like Alaric’s. Mostly because he’d taught me everything I needed to know, and I modeled my work after his teachings.
Hart already knew a bit about my relationship with my father. He’d observed some of the complications when guarding me. This shouldn’t be hard to explain. Still, I tripped over the words. “It was maddening when people would pick up their orders and tell me to pass on their compliments to my father. Like I could only be the shop girl, not the jeweler.”
Hart stood by the door and watched me pace the room.
I stepped into place behind the counter. Maybe being in the position where it happened so many times would help me feel … something. “His talent wasn’t even that great. Father was fine at his job, but he never cared about the shape of the stones like Alaric and I did. He never cared about finding the story the gem wanted to tell. My skills increased dramatically when I started apprenticing with Alaric.”
Hart nodded. “He was talented. I always assumed it came from his ability to sense the adamas. It makes working with quartz even easier.”
“I’m not sure if my father even tried to learn Alaric’s methods or if he was unable to. After Mother’s accident, he stopped caring completely.”
Hart waited, and I realized that this wasn’t quite the story of envy that I’d hoped it was. Resentment, maybe? A little anger, definitely. I didn’t know why I thought this would work. I shook my head, and Hart stepped toward the counter.
“Chaos?”
I shook my head faster.
“Talk to me.”
“This isn’t going to work. I felt a lot of things from my father’s actions. I was sad that I didn’t seem to be enough to keep him tethered to this world. I wondered why he wanted tospend all his time with Mother, who didn’t notice him there. She was barely there herself.” I sucked in a breath. “It left me to fend for myself in this goddess-forsaken city.”
Hart continued his slow steps toward the counter, and he carefully reached for my hand. “You’re still allowed to feel anger, sadness, resentment, any of those things.”
“They’re not the emotions we need.”
He huffed a low chuckle. “I’m not sure that’s how emotions work.”
He stroked his thumb across the knuckle of my hand. I wanted to pull it away. I wanted to jump over the counter and put no distance between us. I wanted so many things, yet I found myself unable to act on any of them.
What a mess. Even when I tried, I still failed.
“We should go back to Forest’s Edge. It’ll be late enough when we return that the tavern will be fuller.” He raised a brow at me, and I realized I hadn’t verbalized that part of my plan. I swallowed, not meeting his eyes that would see too much. “I have full confidence in your ability to stoke lust for me, but I’d prefer it be in a public place—like the alcoves.”
I dared a glance at him. He looked thoughtful. His thumb had stopped its steady movement across my knuckle and retreated to his side of the counter.
The silence was maddening. “It just makes sense. I know you wanted to wait, to keep the healing magic, but we need to make progress with these trials. I know this will work.”
Hart arched a brow at me. “The alcoves?”
I’d never heard two words infused with more disappointment. “Stoking lust is literally what they’re for. And if we’re on display, it won’t seem real.”
His gaze snapped to mine, and the spicy warmth of his anger danced across my tongue. There and gone as fast as Icould catalog it. I pressed my lips together so that no more words could escape. I’d said far more than I intended.
With a deep breath, he tapped his fingers against the wood. “We might as well try.”
And somehow, that response made everything worse.Trydidn’t sound promising. Was he not sure I could stir lust in him? That wasn’t how he made it sound only days ago. The questions were too embarrassing to voice, and I had a feeling that if this conversation kept going, I wouldn’t like what else he had to say. I’d learn the answer soon enough, I guessed.
23
Should the summoned Champion fail in their duty, the faithful have options.
— WHAT MAKES A CHAMPION OF ORDER
HART
