Page 48 of Flowerheart

Papa drew his hand from his mouth. Three pink petals lay on his palm, covered in spit.

I didn’t even have a second to apologize before she gave my father the potion he needed. Xavier darted into the kitchen and returned in moments with a bowl for Papa.

Nothing had changed. Just like the week before, he coughed up more flowers, moaned at the pain in his stomach, grew paler by the second. And judging by the marks on his chest, I’d just made him worse.

After several, agonizing minutes of expelling flowers, he lay back on the sofa. Madam Ben Ammar gave him a sleeping draught to help him rest and recover. As he drifted off to sleep, I covered him in the thin blanket, my gloves on oncemore; where they would forever be, I vowed.

“Miss Lucas?”

I gaped up at Xavier, who offered his hand. He helped pull me to my feet and didn’t let go. The gentleness and the sympathy in his dark eyes made me wish for the days when I could hug him tight and cry into his chest. But such a thing would be improper now that we were grown.

“Don’t blame yourself,” he said softly. “This was your first attempt.”

“But I hurt him.”

His lips pressed in a line. “You didn’t mean to.”

I gave a bitter laugh and stepped away from him and from Papa, who was fading away to sleep. “I’m not certain my intentions mean very much.”

“Young man?”

Madam Ben Ammar stood by the front door. The Morwyns’ shop lay beyond the open doorway.

“I think today has proven that your lessons with Miss Lucas are an exercise in futility,” she said.

She spoke to Xavier—but I could not help but feel responsible.Iwas the difficult pupil.Iwas the failure.

Hopeless,my magic hissed.Monster. Murderer.

Xavier grabbed his potion case but didn’t bolt through the door like I thought he would.

“I disagree,” he said.

My mouth fell open.

Madam Ben Ammar’s hand tightened on the doorknob. “Excuse me?”

He stood at my side and kept his head high. “I believe in Miss Lucas. She’s already shown immense growth in a very short time. She’s made a portal spell and grown a whole field of flowers—”

“It’s not Miss Lucas I have doubts about,” she hissed. She glanced back to Papa drifting asleep on the sofa, and then stepped closer to us, her sharp stare upon Xavier. “If you think I believe that nonsense about a vow of friendship...!”

My stomach sank clear through my feet. “Madam, I assure you—”

“Master Morwyn, explain thisnow,” she whispered.

Xavier wrung his gloved hands together. “I—I can’t.”

“You can’t or you won’t?” She raised a black eyebrow. “Shall I write to your father?”

Panic flashed in his eyes. “No!”

I stepped in front of Xavier. “He’s telling the truth, Madam. We hadn’t seen each other in years. It—it was my idea.”

She looked past me and watched Xavier, unblinking. “I’ll ask one more time. Why did you choose Clara as your pupil?”

When his dark eyes met mine, my heart skipped, half out of fear, and half out of delight of just beingseenby him.

“Miss Lucas needed help,” he said, his voice soft and weak. “I’m not more qualified than anyone, I don’t have muchexperience... but she needed me, so I was there.”

---