“If my nose starts running and my mouth goes numb, that’s the correct spice level for me,” I told him with a smile. “If you aren’t going to finish those, I will.”
After a long look at me, Zafir scraped the peppers onto my plate. “I think your overconsumption of peppers has increased the acidity of your blood. Perfect for a little viper like you.”
“Itisperfect.” My eyes roamed to the long shelves of potion bottles neatly arranged along one of Zafir’s walls, mentally planning out which ones would be most useful to me. “Is there a potion you’ve never made before but want to?”
“Several. Most require ingredients that are difficult to come by. Powdered hen’s teeth are particularly rare.”
I shot him a quizzical look. “Hens don’t have teeth.”
“Which is why they’re so rare. Chameleon’s Tonic would be interesting if I managed to procure the ingredients.”
“The one that turns people invisible?” I asked eagerly.
“Only partially. One must stay still or the sheen around them would reveal their location, but yes. In fact?—”
A knock rang from the door.
“Enter,” Zafir called.
A messenger opened the door. “A missive for the lady.”
Finally! Julian was going to invite me to something. I rose, partially disappointed that my conversation with Zafir was cut short. When he wasn’t being critical, he was actually interesting to talk to.
I unfurled the scroll and felt my heart squeeze a little. “Parliament wants to meet with me tomorrow morning.” I looked up at the messenger. “Let them know I’ll be there.”
The messenger bowed and retreated while I slowly closed the door, still rereading the note. “Parliament wants both of us to arrive after the morning meal.”
“We need to review a few more things before they question you, then,” Zafir told me. “Now, let’s go over your family history and list of exports.”
CHAPTER 17
Zafir kept me up so late reviewing my fabricated story that it was difficult to wake up the next morning.
“Alia, they’ll come for us soon. Get up,” Zafir urged me, jiggling my shoulder.
I mumbled something incoherent that made sense to my sleep-deprived brain but came out as a random string of syllables.
“Come on.” Zafir lugged me off my cot. “You have to get ready.”
I rubbed my eyes and nearly lost my balance. Zafir steadied me and guided me into his study. After setting me on a stool, he went over to pick a potion off his shelf and poured a small amount into a glass. “Here, drink this.”
“Is that your solution for everything? Potions?”
“Most of the time. This one helps with alertness and memory. Take it.”
I obeyed, too tired to protest. He was right; once I drank, my fatigue slipped away and was replaced with energy, focus, and the full recollection of everything we’d discussedwhen crafting my story. If only Zafir were wrong sometimes—that would be nice.
“Here, wear this.” Zafir handed me a scarlet and gold gown. “It’s traditional Pyrenese colors; it’ll show respect when you go to Parliament.”
“Sounds good to me.” I was about to add that he needed to get out so I could change, but he had already pivoted on his heel and exited. I quickly transferred the hidden potions into my new pair of stockings, glad I could keep my protection within reach.
When Zafir came back in, I noticed that he’d changed too. He was still wearing his usual somber black clothing, but the suit was trimmed with crimson to match my dress.
“How did you put that on without getting tangled in the chain?” I asked curiously. “All my things are strapless so I don’t have to worry, but you…”
Zafir held his arm up to show me how there were strings tucked away. “The sleeves tie on. The wardrobe knows about the chain problem and compensated accordingly.”
“Did it decide to make us matching, as well?”
