Page 118 of Kingdoms of Night

“Kills the soil, too. Unless your people know how to fix that.”

“I can do some, but there are others we know who can replenish the soil. Did you grow up on a farm?”

He nodded, but his jaw tightened.

“I used to want to be on a farm.” She adjusted the necklace once more. The forest was far behind them now, half covered by a hill so gradual she really only noticed it now that they had passed it. “Having everything you need in one place? That would be nice.”

“You would grow chamomile? Or—” He paused, as if remembering something. “Not tea plants. You like tea and don’t like tea.”

“I love tea, but I don’t want to bejusta tea maker. Tea making is something everyone does. And it is the only thing you do in my family if there’s nothing else you’re good at. There’s always a need for tea. For people to serve it and to listen. But never just that. Even the masters and brewers of note have something else that they do that sets them apart. Same with growing vegetables I guess. I like sweet potatoes and can grow them pretty well, but I don’t want it to be my focus.”

They said that the Master of Venom and Poison had a secret garden all her own. Not even on a particular world, but a little slip in between the worlds. She’d fallen asleep many nights imagining what a secret garden of venoms and poisons and their antidotes might look like, as well as having a luxurious vegetable garden and an orchard all her own.

“So you want to be good at more than one thing? That’s what you’re saying?” He nodded slowly.

“Wouldn’t you?”

His shoulders twitched. “I’d settle for being a success at one thing that really mattered.”

“You seem to be good at being a werewolf.”

He smirked. “Mostly instinct.”

“And you’re very...” She paused, realizing that she might make things awkward if she said what she was thinking.

He stopped as well, his expression hardening. “Very what?”

She pressed her lips in a tight line. It was awkward, but what difference did it make? Might as well tell the truth. “You have very kind eyes. I like them. A lot.”

He fell back a step. “I don’t know how you could see that,” he mumbled.

“Green eyes are difficult to read sometimes. They can be too bright or too sharp or maybe too murky. But yours—there’s a softness in them. A gentleness, actually. Not the easiest to see at first, I suppose. Of course, we didn’t meet on the best of terms. But yes, I think you have very kind eyes. And I don’t think wolves like Hawthorn or Buttercup would go with someone who wasn’t kind. And you’re going to all this trouble to get your niece back. A lot of men wouldn’t. But the good ones would. And you are a good man.”

He cleared his throat. “Just...well...”

“Your niece is lucky to have you looking for her.” She fidgeted with the strap of the bag. “And you are good at lots of things.”

“So are you. More than just making tea.” His features flushed once more, the mid-morning rays of sunlight peeking through the canopy to shine on his hair. “You’re good at… yelling.”

Both wolves stopped and tilted their heads.

She tried to hold back the laughter, but it burst out. Regaining her composure, she smoothed out the loose threads on her vest.

“I am. In fact, I’d say I excel.” She shuddered as another itch crept across her head. Reaching up, she tapped at it with her polished fingernail. “And sometimes I just want to yell at my hair. I hate lake water!”

“Here.” He took the bag from her, and she let him. “We can stop for a bit.”

“Thank you.” She began removing the pins to free her braids. Those pins weren’t meant to stay in this long. Ordinarily she’d have followed the whole process of removing them and tending to her hair. But there hadn’t been time. Or clean water. Or soothing oils.

Her scalp itched and ached all the more as she removed the black and gold pins. But several well-placed taps and the freeing of the last braids from the serpentine design brought almost blissful relief.

“I know I look ridiculous.” She pulled the last of them free and then combed her fingers through her hair. “But I don’t think I care anymore.”

“No, you don’t. Look ridiculous, I mean.” He rubbed the back of his neck again. “Your hair is pretty.”

“Pretty messed up right now.” She tucked the pins into her pocket. “But I’m glad you like it. You have good hair, too. Then again, I’ve never known a shifter who didn’t have amazing hair. Even if you are a werewolf, I think that counts.” She reached for the bag.

“I can carry it for a bit.” He started walking again, though he continued to watch her. “So earlier, you said you were carrying a heavy load, that you couldn’t add a…one-way path?”

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