Bisma released a long breath, her heart still pounding. Shame ran through her for needing Razan’s help; she needed to defend herself, not rely on others.
‘Thank you,’ she managed to say.
‘Don’t mention it,’ Razan replied. She released a breath, then smiled. ‘Is Luna enjoying the latest poetry book, then? It’s all the rage in Whitebridge; apparently the author even came from Castletown to do a signing.’
‘Oh, don’t mention that to Luna, or she’ll have us all traveling for the author’s next visit,’ Bisma said with a roll of her eyes, feeling calmed by the change in topic. ‘Which is to say she is enjoying it quite a bit … perhapstoomuch.’
Razan arched a curious brow.
‘She insists upon reading passages aloud to us,’ Bisma explained. ‘Azalea is just about at her wits’ end.’
Razan laughed, dimples appearing in her cheeks. ‘Oh yes, some passages are definitely not to be read aloud … at least, not to one’s sister.’
They both shared a smile. Not all people in Old Town were terrible. Throughout the years, Bisma and the other Unwanted Girls had madesomefriends.
Bisma went on to buy the yarn, depositing her purchase into her basket. That was the last of the errands, she realized with annoyance. Which meant the only thing left to do was pay Xander.
With a sigh, she turned toward the Chapman Apothecary. As if summoned by her thoughts, Xander stepped outside the doorjust then. He immediately spotted her across the square, despite how rushed it was, and a smile lit up his face.
He began walking toward her, his hair falling into place perfectly even as he took long strides in her direction. He wore a silver-gray waistcoat that matched the cloud-filled sky, and the color made his hair a deep mahogany-copper. His eyes shone like emeralds in his pale face as he came to stand before her.
‘Well met, Bis,’ he said, giving her that dazzling smile of his, as if she had never been vicious to him when they last spoke.
She was taken aback for a moment, confused. She had expected him to be standoffish at least, after he had done so much to help her and she had been so cruel in response, but it seemed no matter how hard she snapped, he would not be deterred.
On the contrary, he appeared to be … happy to see her. Setting her jaw, Bisma threw a bag of coins at him. He caught it easily with one hand, his elegant fingers closing over the bag.
He looked as though he was going to say something, then thought better of it. ‘Thank you,’ he said, not even looking at the contents. He simply accepted it. Her eye twitched. But why wouldn’t he? What care did he have about her hard-earned money?
‘How are you doing?’ he asked, that velvet smooth voice of his sending a shiver down her spine.
‘I have orders to complete, so I’m much too busy to be wasting my time here with you,’ she replied, lifting her nose up at him.
This was a lie, of course, but she was annoyed by his constant sunny disposition, and the only way to fight against it was to be dark as midnight rain.
‘Is that so?’ he asked, eyes sparking. ‘Are you trying to rub in my face, how lucrative your business is?’
As two of the few garden-witches in Old Town, it was always a competition between them.
‘If that’s how you see it,’ she said, tone haughty.
‘Well, if you must know, I have my own business to conduct, as well,’ he replied.
She scoffed. ‘You mean yourmother’sbusiness.’
The Chapman Apothecary was run by his mother, Eleanora, and before her had been run by his grandfather, who had passed away a few years ago.
At this remark, color entered Xander’s cheeks, which gave her a jolt of satisfaction. She bit back a smile.
‘I have my own private clients as well,’ he said, giving her a pointed look.
Then it was her turn to feel heat rush to her face. Unfortunately, she would not be deterred.
‘Right,’ she said, drawing the word out, as if she did not believe him. ‘Like who?’
‘My clients prefer discretion, same as yours,’ he said, mimicking her haughty tone.
She arched her brow. ‘What do you need private clients for when you have your family business?’
