Aurora looks back and forth between us with a hint of a smile.
Meanwhile, I continue my staring contest with Henry, refusing to lower the rake.
Aurora takes the opportunity to break the tension.
“I’ve always been interested in gardening,” she tells me, speaking slowly, as if she’s trying to talk me down. “Do you need any help with anything?”
Only if it involves using this rake to slash the smug smile off Henry’s face,I think, although now that she’s here, I don’t want to startle her and lose what could be a good opportunity to talk to her.
Maybe I can learn more about the Night Court from her. Or maybe I can make another friend.
Right now, I’d take either.
“Actually, yeah.” I glance at her, while also keeping an eye on Henry. “I could use a second opinion on whether this mint is ready to be harvested.”
Henry huffs out a laugh, but he doesn’t move. “You’re really going to ignore my offer like that?” he asks me. “I’d be a great coach.”
“Oh, were you still talking?” I look at him, feigning innocence. “I thought you left.”
Aurora snickers softly, and Henry’s smirk falters.
He leans in, lowering his voice. “You’re going to regret rejecting my help,” he tells me, although I don’t step back, unwilling to let him assert power over me. “You’ve barely skimmed the surface of the way things work around here.”
“And you’ll regret standing so close to me while I’m holding this rake,” I reply sweetly, lifting it for emphasis.
I don’t actually expect the threat to work.
But he simply shrugs and saunters away, throwing one last grin at me that makes me want to hurl the rake at his face.
When he’s gone, Aurora steps closer, her expression thoughtful. “You handled that well,” she says.
“Did I?” I laugh, finally lowering my makeshift weapon. “It doesn’t feel like it.”
“It did to me,” she says, and she crouches beside the mint, her fingers brushing the leaves. “You stood your ground. With both of them.”
“The rake helped.” I glance at it, hoping to look unbothered, even though I can’t shake off the confrontations with Jake and Henry. “And I didn’t mean to hurt Jake.”
“But you meant to stop him from pushing you,” she says, gentle, but firm. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
Her words are oddly calculating for someone who usually seems so demure.
Maybe there’s more to her than I assumed.
“You sound like you’re speaking from experience,” I say, not wanting to push, but also wanting her to open up.
“Let’s just say I’ve learned a few things during my time here.” She plucks a mint leaf, rolling it between her fingers. “The Night Court has its own rules, and its own patterns. The sooner you understand them, the better equipped you’ll be to survive.”
“Is that what you’ve done?” I ask. “Survived?”
“I’ve done more than survive. I’ve thrived.” Her green eyes meet mine, sharp with intelligence, and when she stands, there’s miraculously no dirt on her dress. “The mint’s ready, by the way. You should harvest it soon.”
With that, she walks away, and I get the distinct feeling she wasn’t just referring to herbs.
But between Jake’s delusions, Henry’s threats, and Aurora’s cryptic advice, I need time to think.
Because one thing’s becoming crystal clear: in the Night Court, every alliance, every confrontation, and every seemingly casual conversation is a move on an intricate chessboard.
And I’ve yet to even put my pieces into place.
