Page 65 of Flowerheart

But he smiled and said, “Thank you, dear,” his attention still on chopping carrots.

With my unmarked hand firmly in my pocket, I approached Madam Ben Ammar. I needed her. I dared not tell her about the vow; I couldn’t see the anger and disappointment in her eyes after learning what I’d done. But I needed to know if my choice was putting others in danger.

“Madam Ben Ammar?” I asked, my voice squeaking like a poorly played violin. “Could I speak to you privately? Please?”

She stood, and Robin did, too, reflexively. Now on their feet, they promptly decided to help Papa prepare our meal, while Madam Ben Ammar took me by the arm and into the sitting room.

I dropped onto the sofa, now bent in the middle from where Papa had been lying for days and days. In my pocket, I rubbed my fingers against the part of my skin that had once been marked black.

Madam Ben Ammar lighted on the sofa, her hip against mine, her forehead puckered. “Are you going to tell me why the mark of your vow is gone?”

My eyes blew wide. “I—you saw?”

“Yes,” she said, holding out her hand. I reluctantly removed mine from my pocket and laid my palm against hers. “It vanished when you healed your father.”

The beat of my heart crashed loudly in my ears. If she knew the conditions of the vow... she’d think I was such a fool. And she might even seek punishment for Xavier for making such bargains behind the Council’s back.Furtherpunishment.

“I—I made him promise me,” I murmured. “I made him promise that he’d help me heal Papa. That’s all. I wanted him to know how serious I was. The vow seemed like a good idea.”

Her brows were still furrowed; she was calculating, deciphering where the lie was hidden within my words.

After all I’d learned about Xavier, after his own deceitfulness, I didn’t blame her for being so cautious about this vow between us.

My shoulders sagged, heavy with the weight of hisconfession and our argument, only an hour ago. I brushed my thumb against my ring finger where the black band had once been.

“This morning, he told me everything,” I murmured. “Xavier.”

Even his name made my stomach turn. I licked my dry lips. With my power now in his possession... what other potions would he make? “I need to know... I need to know more about him. His heart. I just don’t...” I shook my head, unable to catch up to the carnival of my thoughts. “I trusted him; I looked up to him... and yet it’s true. He made Euphoria. And he hid that from me. What else could he have lied about? Did I ever really know him at all?”

Madam Ben Ammar’s brown hands covered mine. “It’s not easy, losing your faith in a friend,” she said.

I blinked back tears and wondered if I was even speaking to her at all or only to myself. The more I said, the more I understood his motivations. “He told me he hated himself for what he’d done. That he didn’t anticipate his potion would hurt people the way it did. And, and he’s worked so tirelessly to find the cure; he hardly sleeps....”

She rested her hand against my shoulder, anchoring me. The world slowed down from the whirlwind it had been before. Was this a sort of spell?

“The Council very generously gave Master Morwyn a chance to address his wrongdoings,” she said. “Three monthsto atone for creating such a disaster.”

Disaster.My insides churned. Emily Kinley’s laughter echoed in my head.

“He said he doesn’t make or distribute it.” I pinched my apron in my hands. “Do you know who does?”

She puffed out a breath, long and weary, but didn’t answer.

My second question came softer. “Is it my mother?”

She pressed her lips. “I suspect she’s part of it. She’s made potions like these before. But whoever it is, they’re uniquely skilled at evading the Council’s attention.” Madam Ben Ammar rubbed her fingertips against her temple. “The Council will continue our efforts to create a cure for its effects. If we can’t stop it spreading, we can at least help its victims.”

I thought of Emily again. Of Xavier’s desperate attempts to help her. To help all those his potion had hurt. “What... what will Xavier’s punishment look like?” I murmured. “If he cannot make a cure by Midsummer?”

“The Council will lay hands on him and take away his powers. And he will lose his title, of course.”

I undid my braid and started it up again, my fingers working fast. I brushed my hand down the plait, instinctively feeling for any loose leaves or flowers—but of course, that was no longer a possibility.

It wouldn’t just be his power he’d lose.

He’d lose mine, as well.

But that’s what I’d wanted, wasn’t it? Almost two weeks ago, I had resigned myself to being a regular girl. And in exchange for Papa—laughing, dancing, joking Papa—it was worth it.

---