“Great,” Ruth says, and stands up holding the empty teapot. “Would you like to stay for dinner, Fliss?”
I shouldn’t. Coming here in the first place was a risk. Bash would kill me if he knew, but the more I learn about Will, the less I trust Bash’s side of the story. And the less I want him to marry my best friend. Not to mention that the queen would torture me to find out every detail of my time here, even if it only involves sitting and having tea with one of her childhood friends. If I stay longer, I’ll have more to hide. And Card knows me too well. If I get back too late…
I’ll never be able to keep this day a secret.
I open my mouth to politely refuse, and the truth comes out.
“I’d love to.”
Chapter Nine
“Where were you?” Card asks, twirling the stem of a bright red poppy between his fingers. He’s leaning against a wall in my shop and not helping at all.
“When? You’ll have to be more specific for me to answer,” I say, and keep my eyes on the flowers I’m sorting into bunches. There was another attack on the trading wagons this morning, and the castle requested as many herbal remedies as people could spare. Fortunately this time no one died, but some of the guards sustained burns and grazes from an exploding trap the rebels had set.
“Yesterday,” Card says. “I sent Tarin for you. Your mum told them you were out.”
“Doesn’t that answer your question?”
I tie some string around a cluster of poppies and place it on top of the other bunches I’ve made. They can be used as a sleeping aid and hopefully calm any headaches or ringing ears the guards have. I’ve managed to fill two boxes of flowers—some dried, some fresh, all with some kind of medicinal use. I know that Creon down at the apothecary will be more useful in a crisis, but I want to help as much as I can.
“According to Godfrey, you didn’t come back until nightfall.”
“Card.” I sigh. “Why are you grilling me?”
“I had the final meeting with the fashion designer! I needed your opinion!”
Neededmy help.Wantedmy help. I’ve heard this more than a hundred times, and it’s only recently occurred to me that he’s exaggerating. I’m sure he was absolutely fine without me there.
“It’s not my wedding. It’s your choice to make.”
“You’re the maid of honor. You’re supposed to stop me from making stupid choices,” Card says, and folds his arms across his decorated teal shirt.
“Like what?”
“Like what if the color of my suit clashes with the ribbons?”
A disaster,I want to say, but can’t because it comes under the umbrella of sarcasm. A pang of jealousy runs through me. Stupid curse.
“I’m sure it will be fine,” I say. “Besides, it’s not about the ribbons or the suit. It’s supposed to be about you and Bash.”
Card rolls his eyes at me. It’s his way of saying that I don’t understand because he’s marrying aroyaland they have higher expectations. There’s more pressure to be perfect. Yeah, like I couldn’tpossiblyunderstand what that feels like. Ah. Someone’s sarcasm is really rubbing off on me…
“Are you going to help me carry these boxes up to the castle?” I ask.
He pushes off the wall and picks the lighter of the two. Because of course he does.
As we make our way up the cobbled street to the castle, a passerby bows at him, and Card nods in response. He’s not royal yet, but the townsfolk already treat him that way. He certainly carries himself that way. The same person clamps their lips tight and avoids meeting my eyes.How kind.
“I don’t know why you’re being so secretive about where you went,” Card says.
“You’re the one making it a big deal. I went out.”
“Where?”
“Why does it matter?”
“You’re being weird lately, that’s why.”
