Aizel conceded that point. Sleeping indoors was a luxury she was happy to return to.
Stepping around the fire, he handed her the cool end of the stick. “Finish roasting these, will you? I’m going to go freshen up in the stream.”
She nodded, glad to have the food as close to her as possible. “I’m not sure how much fresher you can get,” she mentally called after him.
“Save a bite for me,” he said, practically bouncing out of sight.
Aizel happily turned her attention to the roasting buns. When they looked nicely toasted, she maneuvered the long stick in her hand so that they could cool enough to touch.
Being a bit too impatient, she slid the first roll off the end of the stick, burning her fingers as she went.
A gooey, white substance stretched between stick and bun. There was melted cheese inside! That’s what had smelled so good.
Unable to wait any longer, Aizel dove right into the roll. She had never tasted a better flavor combination than the toasted bread with tart cheese.
Finishing the first in a few mouthfuls, she reached for the second. Her stomach mumbled its content as she licked her fingers clean.
Maybe it was a good day.
She eyed the remaining three buns. Erich had not said how many to save for him.
Suddenly, her elated feelings dissipated and the food clogged in her throat.
This was her chance. Her heart raced, making her stomach flip.
All she had to do was reach into her bag, pull out the vial, and slip a few drops into the last bun. The flavorful cheese would likely mask the lotus flavor.
Then it would be over.
Celesta would be free.
Aizel bit her lip, glancing down at the sack on her side.
Could she do it? He didn’t deserve to die. Or did he? He was living in a delusion, created by himself and others, that kept him comfortable in his own self-righteousness. He was in a position of power, a position wherein he could pass that same delusion on to so many more...
Aizel held the buns over the fire to keep them warm, looking for any excuse to stop the thoughts in her mind. No one deserved to die.
And she was not about to start thinking like that.
Besides, it was too early. She had at least to wait until her ankle was healed enough to take her weight. For the moment, she needed him.
That thought calmed her and she shoved the residual guilt from her mind.
Maybe if she saved him all three of the remaining buns, she would feel less bad about her momentary plan to assassinate him.
She had lost her appetite anyway.
“I did some thinking last night about what you said,” Erich’s voice sounded before he came into view. “Err, communicated.” He stepped back into the clearing, hat in hand. His fingers carefully brushed out the long feather, aligning each of its vanes and barbules to achieve fluttery perfection.
She watched his hands, keeping her face as normal as possible.
“And, if I hadn’t been living up to my core philosophy, I’ve decided to change that. Starting now.” He placed the hat on his head and bowed elegantly toward her.
The feather floated through the air, dipping dangerously low over the firepit and its greedy flames.
Aizel waved her free hand, trying to get his attention or reach the feather before it was too late. “Stop! You’re a walking fire hazard!”
He glanced up at her as he rose from the bow. The feather was still dipping down over his head, and he whisked it to safety as soon as he realized what was happening.
