Page 28 of Flowerheart

7

The next morning, I found Xavier in the kitchen, draping a cloth over a wicker basket.

I stopped in the doorway, unsure if interrupting him in this task would also upset him. If his odd behavior from the night before was an aberration or the norm. Lifting his head, he caught sight of me and promptly turned pink as a rose petal. He lowered his gaze again, like I’d caught him in the middle of something unseemly.

“Good morning,” he said, more to the basket than to me.

I dared to take a few steps closer. “Good morning.”

He took one deep breath, and then his words came out in a flood. “Miss Lucas, I’m dreadfully sorry for my behavior last night. You didn’t deserve to be shouted at like that, and I’m ashamed of myself.”

I folded my arms and stood at the other end of the kitchen counter, watching his face carefully. He looked exhausted.Hopeless. He seemed more and more to be a different Xavier altogether from the one I saw last night.

“Do you spend all your nights making potions?” I asked.

His eyes met mine once more. They were still red and surrounded by dark rings. “Yes, I work all night.”

He didn’t look away. So this was the truth.Andit wasn’t punctuated by another question or a biting remark or an accusation. Perhaps my luck would continue.

“Why were you hiding your work from me?”

When he glanced down, I bristled, waiting for a lie.

“This project for the Council, it’s... delicate. They wish to keep it a secret.”

Xavier glared at the wooden floor as if it had offended him. He certainly had difficulty lying. The trouble was that I couldn’t tell which part of what he’d said was the lie.

“Midsummer’s in nine days,” I said. “It must make you anxious, having your deadline so soon.”

“Yes, well.” He clapped his hands and straightened his back, like a mechanical toy that had just been reset. He laid his fingertips against the wicker basket. “No time to waste, then. I have a lesson planned for you outside.”

I raised my brows. “Are we having a picnic?”

“Not exactly.” He lifted the basket and made for the front door, beckoning me with a jerk of his head.

I followed at his heels. He set the basket on the floor beside him and then touched one hand to the door, as he had donewhen he made the portal to my home.

“Wait a moment,” I said. “If we’re leaving, what’s to be done about the shop? What about the customers?”

“I—I figured we could give our schedule a slight change. Besides, we won’t be gone for more than half an hour, I promise.”

A schedule change? Perhaps thiswasa new Xavier.

He bowed his head to the door as if in prayer. As before, he breathed slowly, deeply. His eyes drooped shut. Xavier sang to the door, each syllable whispered and soft and hypnotic. Then, with his chest heaving, he pulled the door open with aclick.

Instead of the grassy hill and the muddy path leading to Williamston, the doorway led to a plain, with beautiful, leafy trees on the horizon, whispering to one another in the breeze. Stepping through onto the soft earth, I breathed in the scent of the grass, damp with dew, and felt the wind nip at my cheeks.

Fat clouds nearly kissed the smooth, green horizon. Every now and again the skyline was interrupted by jagged, brown peaks. In fact, we were standing on such a peak—after walking a good distance, I found a beautiful, glimmering lake lying at the bottom of a steep cliff.

Stray curls broke from my braid, and my skirts fluttered in the wind, but I didn’t mind. I watched the sunshine twinkling on the perfect, glassy surface of the lake, more like a puddle from so high up.

“This is marvelous!” I cried, letting my voice bounce down the stone walls below.

The grass rustled as Xavier strode to my side, basket in hand. He was distractingly handsome with his long, black hair tickling his face. Was that sun or a blush burning my cheeks?

“You like it?” he asked.

“Oh, yes!”

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