‘You said it yourself,’ he replied, stepping closer. ‘That’s my mother’s business, not mine.’ He lifted and dropped a shoulder nonchalantly. ‘Private clientele worked out for you—thought I’d try my hand at it as well. Give you a run for your money.’
‘Ah, so it’s about me, is it?’
He smiled, reaching a hand out to pluck a stray white flower from her hair; it must have come undone from the string of motia entwined in her braid. He twirled it between his fingers before looking back up at her.
‘Darling Bisma, you are my greatest nemesis, my sweetest rival. Isn’t everything about you?’
She ignored the way her heart skipped a beat at that. He was an incorrigible flirt. That didn’t mean she had to lose her head.
Instead, she cocked her head, saying, ‘While it makes sense for people to require discretion when it comes to purchasing poisons, why would they require such discretion to purchase your curing potions?’
‘Maybe I’ll explain it to you sometime,’ he said, eyes glittering. ‘Perhaps over dinner?’
That nearly made her laugh out loud. ‘I’d rather drink my own poisons, thank you kindly.’
‘If only to give me the chance to heal you?’
She mimicked barfing. He laughed, an open-mouthed, rich laugh that passed through her like the first delicious chill of autumn after a scorched summer.
‘You’ll change your mind someday, Bis,’ he said, stepping closer.
She narrowed her eyes, taking a step forward as well.
‘Don’t hold your breath.’ She paused, considering it for a moment before amending her previous statement. ‘Actually, please do.’ She smiled sweetly.
His only response was to grin, eyes lidded as he looked down at her. She felt a strange warmth unfurl in her chest.
‘Did you find out what caused Mei to get sick?’ Xander asked, changing the topic and only causing the warmth to unfurl further.
‘It looked to be poisoning,’ Bisma replied. ‘But now I’m not sure; I haven’t been able to track the source.’
‘But by whom?’ he asked, genuinely confused.
Forest, he really was thick in the head sometimes.
She gestured to the town square. ‘Take your pick.’
For some reason, Bisma did not feel compelled to mention the old man who had just thrown rotten fruit and spit at her. Shehad an uncanny feeling Xander would react badly to that news, and she did not need his emotions on top of her own.
‘Everyone hates us,’ she simply said.
‘Not everyone,’ he said, his voice soft but firm. He stepped closer, close enough that she had to look up to meet his eyes, and as she did, her breath lodged in her throat.
She clenched her jaw, internally chastising herself. He really was insufferably handsome.
Without another word, she turned and took her leave, but not before a blush had already crept to her cheeks. She suspected he had noticed, for she heard his gentle laugh as she stalked away, but she refused to waste a moment thinking of it.
Bisma went back to the bakery, where Deeba was on the counter sucking on a pretzel stick and Luna was deep in discussion with Haru. In the background, Haru’s mother and father looked to be quite frazzled as they dealt with the rush of customers.
‘Haru!’ his father called, but he did not notice.
With an exasperated sigh and glare at his son, Haru’s father packaged another loaf of bread and handed it to a customer, then was immediately besieged by another.
Bisma came up beside Luna, who was just as oblivious to anything outside the little bubble she and Haru had created. Bisma aggressively cleared her throat.
‘Oh, you’re back!’ Luna said, turning to her. Luna was grinning, face cheery, but when she spotted Bisma’s expression, she furrowed her brows. ‘What happened? Are you angry?’
‘No. What do you mean?’
