He gave a nod, eyes still fixed on the curling glass tubes with bubbling liquids spiraling through. He jotted down a few more notes, then blew out the burner. Almost immediately the bottle’s contents stopped bubbling and the liquid drained down the tubes, back into the bottle.
“What are you working on?”
He eyed the bottle. “I’m experimenting with a way to become impervious to any physical attack. It’s meant to be an alternative to eating a dragon heart since those are very difficult to come by.”
“Less disgusting, too, I would assume.”
“I agree—eating a dragon heart is rather unappealing,”he said, reaching for the first makeup container. “Ironblood tonic has similar properties but still leaves the drinker vulnerable to poisons, drowning, and being smothered. I seem to have misplaced one of my vials of it in addition to some truth serum.”
He gave me a penetrating look, and I arranged my features into an expression of innocence. “How unfortunate.”
“And rather unexpected, as I don’t lose things. It went missing about the time you arrived. Now don’t talk or this will smudge.” Zafir carefully applied the lip stain, one finger hooked beneath my chin to tilt my face up toward his. I couldn’t decide where to look as he carefully dabbed my lips. Our faces were only a few inches apart and it was so quiet that I heard each bubbling gurgle of the potions around us.
“Talk to me,” I breathed once he finished the lip stain. “I don’t like the quiet.”
He gently turned my head from side to side, analyzing his work. “What do you want to talk about? Stealing potions from your benefactor?”
He knew…so why hadn’t ordered me to hand them over? “Tell me about Julian. How am I supposed to charm him?”
“Just do whatever made your first husband propose to you.”
“Excellent suggestion. Tell me what worship center Julian frequents to bribe impoverished women into marrying him, and I’ll be on my way.”
“Right, right,” he muttered distractedly. “You already said you were coerced. In that case, just…just do whatever you normally do to attract men.”
I pulled back. “I wasn’t lying when I told you I have no experience. I kept my sister and myself alive by brewingillegal potions and selling them on the black market. I have no other talents, except maybe mediocre lockpicking and thieving skills.”
“You were serious about that?” Zafir leaned back as well, a furrow appearing on his face once more. “You mean to tell me that our entire plan revolves around you charming Julian, and you genuinely have no idea how to charm men?”
“Exactly. But it can’t be that hard. Women charm men all the time, and I got Julian to agree to see me already. We had a good time on our date to the bazaar and he invited me to go out again. So what I’m doing is clearly working.”
“It’s working much too slowly.” Zafir closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“Nope. I figured I should be honest with the evil vizier who arrested me and is keeping me chained to him.”
“You’re the one who insisted on us staying chained! I didn’t—” Zafir broke off and blew out a long stream of air. “So I need to do your makeup every dayandteach you how tocharm men?”
“That depends. How much experience do you have charming men?” I bit my lip, trying and failing to hide my smile.
“Alia,” he growled. “This isn’t a laughing matter. You’re making this plan seem less and less feasible.”
“You could always give up on the notion of having your own genie to control. It would be a great deal easier for you.”
“It would be easier if you would be more charming and less acidic.” Zafir grabbed my jaw and continued to dab at my face with a brush.
“Maybe Julian likes acidic women.” I matched Zafir’s fiery glare with one of my own.
“Close your eyes,” Zafir ordered. “I need to do your eyeliner.”
I obeyed, gently closing my eyes so Zafir could apply the cool ink along the line where my eyelashes grew. He blew softly on my face to help the eyeliner dry.
“You’ve been eating oranges,” I told him.
He stood. “Be grateful it wasn’t garlic. There, you’re done. Now stand up. Apparently, we have some flirting lessons to do.”
“Now, how do you know what works?” I asked, nudging Zafir’s stool aside and standing.
“As difficult as it is to believe, Iama man.”
