“And this morning at breakfast, when did it start for you?”
“Before I came down to eat, actually. I woke up feeling fine, but once I’d dressed and had tea in my room, the giggling began. I went to the greenhouse and stayed there until it faded.”
My pulse quickened. “You said tea in your room?”
“Yes, the servants send it every morning. I usually drink a pot while reviewing the day’s schedule.”
I stood, pacing in front of the bench while my mind worked through this, Savory hopping aside to avoid my feet, grumbling about me squishing the bugs before she could snatch them up alive.
“Everyone at breakfast was drinking tea,” I said, talking through this out loud. “All of them started giggling after they had it.”
“But you didn’t.” Dominic rose, understanding beginning to dawn.
“I had primwort instead.” I turned to face him, excitement building inside me. “I’m the only person who drank something different, and I’m the only person unaffected.”
The witch’s mind cuts through chaos like a blade through silk,Savory said with satisfaction.
“Are you saying the tea is causing this?” Dominic stepped closer, his gorgeous green eyes intent on my face.
“I think so. Or something in the tea.” I pulled up the mental inventory I’d been building. “When you’re here in the gardens and away from the manor house, the giggling stops. When you’re near the buildings, particularly in the dining room or your private chambers, it’s constant.”
“Because that’s where I drink tea.” Wonder and relief warred in his expression. “Fates, Sasha. You’re brilliant.”
Warmth flooded through me at the admiration in his voice. This wasn’t playful flirtation or courtly flattery, but respect for my analytical skills.
Working beside him felt surprisingly natural, our minds syncing on the problem like interlocking pieces of a strategy board. Too natural, perhaps. I reminded myself that distraction led to oversights, and people were counting on me to stay sharp.
“We need to test the theory,” I said, already strategizing the next steps. “Can you remember if the giggling only happens after you drink tea, or does it persist throughout the day?”
He thought for a moment, his expression intensely focused in a way that made my breath catch. This was thereal Dominic, I realized. Serious, thoughtful, and intelligent beneath the charming façade.
“It does seem to fade if I go long enough without having tea,” he said slowly. “Yesterday, I had tea before we left for your grandmother’s estate. The giggling was worst during the vows, but by the time we transported here, and I showed you around, it had lessened somewhat.”
“Because the effects were wearing off,” I said, pieces clicking into place. “Then this morning you had tea again, and?—”
“The giggling returned full force.” He ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up in places that shouldn’t have been endearing but absolutely were. “You’re suggesting an external cause. Maybe it’s not stress or anxiety or some failing on my part.”
The relief in his voice made my chest ache.
“I don’t believe you were ever the problem,” I said.
He looked at me then, and something passed between us that had nothing to do with magic or political alliances. Understanding, maybe. Or the beginning of trust.
I suspected he was testing whether I saw this as a simple alliance or the chance for something deeper. I met his gaze but kept my response focused on our shared goal.
“You saw past the symptoms to the actual issue,” he said. “Most people would’ve accepted the obvious explanation. But you questioned, analyzed, and tested your theories.”
“Well, we’ll need to do more testing. This is just supposition on my part.”
“No, it’s all you.” He stepped closer, near enough that I had to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact. “I’ve never seen anything quite like the passionate focus you usewhen you’re solving a problem. Your entire being transforms. It’s remarkable.”
A blush crept up my neck. I wasn’t used to being praised for my analytical nature. Most people found it off-putting, too intense, too serious for social situations.
But Dominic looked at me like he’d discovered something wonderful.
He sees you,Savory said.The real you, not the protective walls.
“We still need to confirm the source,” I said, steering us back to the practical matter even as my pulse raced. It would be better to frame this as a useful partnership than let attraction mess with my judgment. “And figure out who has access to the tea service.”
