“You were turning purple.”
“It was hilarious. One of the funniest things Fliss has ever done.”
“Well, I had to whisper ‘said the rabbit’ after every line. Acting is too close to lying.”
“True. Anyway, the rabbit says, ‘Mr. Wolf, what could I possibly have to offer you, when you are strong and fast, and all in our forest know your name?’ And the wolf replies, ‘Everything, my dear Rabbit, for you are all I am not. I have much to learn and this time Iwill not take what is not given freely.’ A classic parable. One to learn from.”
He pops a grape in his mouth like he’s concluded his story. Is he talking about Bash and me learning from it, or the rebels? Either way, he’s clearly drawn a line under the conversation.
“I’ve had to memorize a lot of speeches or other texts, mainly poetry, history, legislation, the like, but I’ve never had to ‘perform,’ ” Bash muses. “Although…” There’s a beat. A flash of a smile. “There was one time Will and I stole some troubadour instruments and put on aterribleshow for his parents. We practiced for so long the night before, his dad ended up yelling at us to go to sleep. I still can’t look at a lute without remembering.”
He takes a moment to chuckle to himself. It’s a rare glimmer of joy. A glimpse of what once was. Then his face submits to sadness and he retreats within. Silent now, solemn, Bastion takes out a sandwich and leans on a knee, scanning the northern sky. As the prince ruminates, I try to imagine a younger Will strumming enthusiastically on a lute and Ruth clapping politely.
I bet it was hilarious.
I bet I could get Ruth to tell me more.
Card pokes my knee.
“You okay?” he whispers.
“Mm.”
He glances aside to check that Bash isn’t listening. “What you said about the north…Did you hear it from Willoh Vane? You didn’t actually end up asking him about the Odyssa, did you? I told you it was a bad idea.”
The silence stretches past even my normally slow response time.What?How has he jumped to that conclusion? What did I do to make him think that? I stammer, mouth dropped open, and in my shock, am forced to confront that my heart has skipped at the mention of Will.Again.
Like it did yesterday, when he’d offered to clean the plates after we finished all the tea and cake we could manage. I thought it waschivalrous—until he winked at me and used a snap of magic to make them spotless. Then, when Ruth showed me around her incredible garden, the wildflowers and fauna hadn’t been enough to keep me from sneaking glances over at where he teased Gill with a long strand of grass. Afterward, Ruth explained her workshop to me, teaching me about her herbs and how, when her eyes are tired and her sight is lower than on other days, she uses sound and the small patterns of dried wax on the labels to differentiate the vials. All the while, Will sat reading a magic textbook by the fire, the warm glow highlighting the (very adorable) focused frown on his face. Every so often, he absentmindedly petted Gill’s head. I helped Ruth package some of her deliveries and truly, honestly, enjoyed it all.
I didn’t go home until after dinner, during which I’d finally asked about the fascinating wooden furniture I’d been eyeing all day. Ruth told me with a smile that Will’s dad had been a sorcerer who used magic to enhance his carpentry, similar to my floristry, and motioned to the painted portrait above the fireplace of a man with dark curls and a glint in his green eyes. Will grew silent after that. Far away. So even though I was reluctant for such a pleasant day to end, I asked him to walk me back to the crossroads in the forest. He promised to be waiting there in three days’ time for our trip to Mithian.
It’s my bottle of joy, my wax-sealed secret.
Mine.
I don’t want to satisfy Card’s curiosity. From his reaction earlier, I’m assuming he and Bash are on the same page. Both seemed concerned that I might have heard somethingtrueabout the north. Something that might not paint the royals in the best light.
“Willoh Vane was not the person who told me about the northerners having to hunt for themselves, no.”
Card studies me.
“Hmm. Well, I hope you’d tell me if you’d gotten yourself in trouble.”
I keep my face straight, but guilt laps at my insides. Card has never averted his eyes or watched his words around me. He’s trusted mefrom the day he charged into my life, a bright-eyed chatty child, and remained glued to my side since. It’s hard to consider him losing faith in me. Imagine if he knew who I was meeting and where I was heading in a few days. Imagine if he knew I was starting to trust the sorcerer more than the prince.
Chapter Ten
When the day of the Mithian trip finally arrives, I wear an indigo pansy in my hair for a change, the color bleeding toward the center like rain. They’re an easy addition to any bouquet and come in a delightful variety of colors, all meaning that the sender has been occupied by thoughts of the recipient. Something very true for myself of Will. He’s been gnawing at my senses like a sparrow at the window—small and subtle, but completely remarkable if you stay still long enough to pay attention.
Will is already at the crossroads when I arrive, leaning against a tree with his hands in his jacket pockets. Just the sight of him has my stomach wrapped in nettles. A sting of excitement. Or nerves. Whichever. Both. His head turns my way, and I smooth down the purple pleats of my skirt with clammy palms.
“Felicity Farrow. Did you manage to get here unscathed?”
I adjust the flower basket in the crook of my elbow.
“Iamable to get through a day without injuring myself.”
“Apparently so. Come on, it’s this way. Watch your step.”
