Page 87 of Flame and Sparrow

“Nothing about youis responsible for any color in my cheeks, I assure you,” I hissed. “And there’s nothing you could do or say that would cause such a thing.”

“Really?” His brows lifted higher, as though I’d just issued a challenge. “Nothing at all?”

“I am not some hapless, giggling virgin who’s going to throw myself at your feet every time you flash a crooked smile my way.”

“That’s a shame,” he said, “because I love it when hapless, giggling virgins throw themselves at my feet.”

“I bet you do.”

He took a step closer. Close enough that he could have reached out and touched me. For a moment I thought he might. His fingers brushed idly together, drawing sparks of embers into the air as they did.

I glared at those flashing embers for a moment before lifting my eyes back to him, “But if it helps you relieve some of the obvious burning tension you’re experiencing, then by all means, you can go fuck yourself.”

“I’m not usually a fan of the solo routine, as it were.” He smiled brighter, clearly enjoying himself now. “You don’t happen to know where I could find some giggling virgins, do you?”

“I can’t help you there.” I kept my voice perfectly even, determined not to seem flustered, as I added, “But I’m in a generous mood, so please feel free to think of me while you take care of yourself. Just know that it’s as close as you’ll ever get to the real thing. So I hope you enjoy it.”

He stroked the hard line of his jaw as if considering my offer.

And I swear the bastard stopped just short of winking at me as he turned away, chuckling, and said, “I was already planning on thinking of you.”

It felt as if my cheeks were close to igniting as I watched him leave.

Chapter25

It was latethe following morning—almost afternoon, based on the forgelight’s glow—before I finally stumbled from my bed and made my way down to the main floor.

I had gotten used to having breakfast in a bright little room next to the kitchen, where I could stare through a row of windows into the small garden on the other side. Mairu and Valas occasionally joined me there; only the latter was present when I arrived on this particular morning, reclining on a chaise with a steaming mug of what smelled like herbal tea clasped in his hands.

I didn’t usually mind the company, but, given how restless and irritable I felt, I would have been better off alone this time.

The memory of the stardust ravaging my skin still made me itch, even though I’d bathed again before falling into bed last night. It was all in my head, I knew, but I couldn’t seem to shake the irritation—or the visions of myself lost in an endlessly dark sky with more shimmering dust pouring down and threatening to bury me.

I’d hardly slept, either, having spent entirely too much time tossing and turning while replaying the argument with Dravyn in my head. Every time I’d closed my eyes, I had thought of something else I could have said to him. Something better.

“You’re even angrier than usual this morning,” Valas commented in between loud slurps of his tea.

Was it that obvious?

I shrugged, helping myself to a basket of some sort of flaky bread on the table between us.

While I picked the bread apart, he spooned something that looked like honey into his cup—an alarmingly large amount of honey—and stirred it without taking his eyes off me.

“Did you even sleep last night?”

“Not as much as I should have,” I muttered.

He stirred more slowly. Each circle of the spoon felt deliberate, loaded with unspoken commentary. “I noticed you and Dravyn were all alone when I left you.”

“And?”

He took the spoon out andting, ting, tingedit against the rim. “The two of you seem to be growing close.”

“Not that close.”

“Closer than I’ve ever seen him get to…well, anyone.”

“I’m here to serve in this court, at his jurisdiction,” I reminded him.

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