Flynn’s jaw hardens. “You’re putting words in my mouth again.”
“Am I?” Jocasta smiles vaguely and without humor. “I guess you talk to me so
little, I’ve started to invent.”
Flynn freezes, staring at her. Emotional conflict makes him shut down
completely. With Jocasta, anyway. He’ll get into a roaring good fight with me.
“Cat and Griffin—they listen to people. Take advice,” he finally says in a
low, almost toneless voice. “Cat was Griffin’s advisor at first. In a way, she
still is.”
If you ask me, Griffin’s the sage one, but Jocasta eventually nods, conceding
the point. “I’ll think about it,” she says.
“Thank you.” Flynn seems to relax. “Get yourself a guard as well,” he adds.
“I can take care of myself.”
“I could take care of you better,” he mutters irritably.
Jocasta grips the edge of the table like it’s the only thing keeping her
upright. Or like she might heave the whole thing up and over in a fit of rage.
One or the other. I can’t tell. When Flynn realizes what he just said, or rather
how it could be taken, he pales until his shock of bright-red hair is his only
color.
“I mean…” He clears his throat, looking up, around, anywhere but at her. “I
mean you’d be twice as safe with a warrior guarding you. Me. Or someone else.”
Jocasta slowly uncurls her fingers from the table. “Someone else?”
Flynn frowns. “I’m leaving today. I won’t be here. You fought well in the
arena, but we were all there. That doesn’t mean you’re ready for this.” He waves
his hand in an all-encompassing gesture. “Everyday danger? The insidious kind?
It doesn’t always come at you with a sword and a snarl. You might not see it
coming.”
That vague smile is back on Jocasta’s lips, the one that speaks of utter
disappointment. “So that’s what you want? Some man following me around day and
night? Sleeping outside my bedroom door? Taking walks with me? Guarding me in
the bathhouse?”
Flynn doesn’t answer. He’s too busy grinding his molars to dust.
“Well, I won’t do it,” Jocasta says. “I’m in a fortified castle and don’t
plan on leaving it. There are plenty of guards, high walls, and beyond them,
there’s a constant, swelling crowd that seems to genuinely love us. I’m not in
any danger.”
Flynn scoffs. “There’s always danger. And it’s most dangerous when you don’t
expect it. You can’t let your guard down, Jo, especially while we’re away.”
Jocasta pushes the soggy, herb-soaked cloth farther down the table, wiping up
a spill. When there’s nothing left to keep her busy, she finally looks up at
Flynn.
“Don’t worry about me. Worry about yourself.” She shifts from foot to foot,
looking uncomfortable. “I certainly do.”
Flynn leans in, his hands braced on the table again. Their eyes meet. “You
do?”
Jocasta swallows so hard I can see it from here. Softly, she says, “You know
I do.”
Flynn’s gaze drops to her mouth. Jocasta’s lips part, and her tongue darts
out to wet them. He targets the movement with his eyes, tilting his head
slightly and suddenly looking like a hungry and very focused predator. She sways
toward the man she’s loved for so long, slowly closing the distance across the
worktable. Flynn doesn’t back off for once, and I start to feel like the worst
sort of thrill seeker, because my heart is pounding for them, and I can’t look
away.
Do it. Kiss her. Claim her. It’s all she wants.
Flynn’s head drops a slow inch. Jocasta tilts hers up.
This is finally happening!
Bellanca charges into the kitchen through a side door. Flynn and Jocasta jump
apart. I jump, too, my hand flying to my chest where my heart starts kicking
like a deranged donkey. Everywhere Bellanca goes, she goes like a bloody
tornado. A bloody flaming tornado.
“What in the Underworld is that awful smell?” Bellanca waves her hand in
front of her nose, looking at Flynn and Jocasta like it’s probably them. Then
she storms over, peers into Jocasta’s bowl, and scowls. “What’s that?”
“It’s going to be a sleeping draught,” Jocasta says tersely.
Bellanca wrinkles her freckled nose. “Who for?”
“For me,” Jocasta answers from between gritted teeth. She’s usually friendly
to Bellanca, or at least neutral, so I know her crossness comes from being
interrupted before her first kiss ever, and that from the man she’s been waiting
for for years.
Bellanca huffs. “You can’t be that stupid.”
Flynn’s brown eyes narrow. The look he turns on Bellanca is truly terrible,
but she doesn’t seem to notice.
Jocasta takes a slow breath, her expression suddenly such a careful mask of
politeness that I have no doubt she’s erupting underneath. “Excuse me?”
“Why would you want to sleep that heavily? Only an idiot would do that.”
Bellanca looks genuinely confused. As usual, she’s oblivious to anyone’s
reaction to her…forthrightness.
“Do you suggest I sleep with one eye open?” Jocasta asks coolly. “Or possibly
not at all?”
Bellanca reaches between them and grabs an apple that somehow escaped the
splattering of herbal sludge. “Good idea.” As she straightens, she knocks
Jocasta’s bowl over, giving it a hard enough shove to dump it on the floor. The
earthenware vessel shatters into tiny pieces, hopelessly contaminating the
concoction.
Jocasta’s mouth drops open.
Bellanca winks. “Eyes open.” She crunches into her apple as she moves
backward in a tinkle of gold bangles and a froth of sky-blue skirts.
Flynn steps after her, his voice lowering in pitch. “Did you just threaten
her?”
Bellanca stops halfway across the kitchen, looking increasingly surly. She
dabs a fingertip to her lips, wiping off a drip. “I’m trying to protect her.”
“Do you know something?” Flynn growls, stalking forward until they’re only a
pace apart.
Bellanca takes another bite and then shrugs. “I know lots of things.”
“Like what?” Flynn demands.
“Like potions such as that one are better left alone.”
Jocasta stiffens. “I know what I’m doing. I’m not likely to overdose.”
Bellanca shakes her head. “That’s not what I mean.”
“Then what do you mean?” Flynn asks, menace still heavy in his voice.
“Good Gods!” Bellanca rolls her eyes. “I was just trying to help. I’m going
to change and pack.” She takes another bite and then throws her apple at Flynn,
hitting him square in the forehead.
I slap my hand over my mouth, stifling a gasp. Laugh. Gasp laugh. I can’t
believe she just did that!
Stone-faced, Flynn wipes apple juice from his brow. Jocasta stares in horror.
Bellanca whirls on her heel and then stomps from the room, going out the same
way she came in—fast and flaming.
As soon as the Tarvan woman is out of sight, I back away from the open door
before dissolving into fits of quiet laughter. Soon after, I hear Flynn and
Jocasta do the same.
