Page 105 of Foul Days

“Nightmares again?”

Asen nodded. He didn’t look as if he’d say anything else.

“Come on,” Kosara said, her eyes still burning. “I told you my deepest, darkest secret. Your turn.”

Asen laughed, as if she’d been joking. She hadn’t.

“Maybe some other time,” he said.

He let go of her hand and reached for his wine glass. Instead of drinking from it, he swung it between his fingers, from his left hand to the right and back.

Once again, Kosara hesitated. She could still stop him from drinking the truth serum. After experiencing its effects twice, she was hesitant to inflict it on someone else. It was so distressing, being unable to control your own tongue. She could come clean and explain herself, and he’d probably understand and forgive her, the nice person that he was.

No, she thought. This was how Sevar had tricked her: by acting as if he cared. This was how Roksana had tricked her, too.

She wasn’t going to be tricked again.

Kosara lifted the glass to her lips once more, pretending to take a sip, this time taking extra care not to let her lips touch the glass.

“The wine’s not bad, by the way,” she said.

Asen looked down, as if only now realising he was holding the glass. “Actually, I don’t drink. Haven’t I told you before? Sorry, I should have said something before you poured me a glass.”

“But it’s just wine! It’s made from grapes. Perfectly natural. It’s full of vitamins.”

He shrugged. “Nevertheless.”

Kosara swore internally. This was just her luck. If only she’d kept the serum, she could have tried mixing it with his breakfast tea the next day. Instead, she’d wasted it pouring it into the wine. Just her luck.

Kosara put down her glass. She had to think. There had to be some other way to trick him into revealing what his talisman was.

She raised her hand, pretending to be fixing her hair, her fingers tangling in the knots. Her elbow slammed against her wine glass. It rocked on its stool, and then it tumbled over. The wine flew out, painting a wide arch in the air, landing with a splash on Asen’s T-shirt.

“Oh my God!” Kosara said. “I’m so sorry!”

Asen looked down at his top. He laughed. “Don’t worry about it. Red is my favourite colour, anyway.”

He didn’t make to take it off. He simply sat there, completely unfazed, while the stains on his T-shirt grew larger as the wine sank in deeper.

All right. Fine. Time for a new plan.

A large candleholder stood on the shelf above his head. All the candles were lit. If Kosara managed to knock it over, she might set his stupid T-shirt on fire.…

Or maybe she’d burn his hair, or his face. Or the ship would catch on fire. Blackbeard would throw them both straight into the sea, to swim with the rusalkas.

Kosara sighed deeply. There was no other way. She stood up. After only a moment’s hesitation, she walked around the table, grabbed the collar of his T-shirt, pulled him closer, and kissed him.

For a moment, his lips were firm under hers, and she thought he’d push her away. She must have looked terrible, with her messy hair, her red face, and her eyes puffy from crying. Hardly a seductress.

Then, his lips softened. He breathed out, as if he’d been waiting for her to do this, and buried his face in her hair. His nose tickled her neck. His breath was hot on her collarbone. He smiled in between kissing her.

It felt nice, she had to admit, as his fingers caressed her skin. His touch was gentle but persistent, forming circles on her lower back.

She ran her hand down his spine to the hem of his T-shirt and paused. What she did next would ruin this—whatever this was.

But she had to do it. She had to know.

Her hand crept up, her fingers dancing over the tense muscles of his stomach and chest, to the pendant hanging around his neck. It was just as warm as his skin, made of some kind of soft metal, and shaped like … a ring?

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