Page 58 of Falling Princess
“You mean he’s cheating on her,” Raina scowled.
“It’s not cheating if everyone knows what’s going on.” I’m a bit jealous, honestly. Scarlett and Kenton have been hooking up for a while now, and I can’t quite wrap my head around it. What little I know of romantic entanglements is that once you’re in one, you don’t stray. Their arrangement is foreign to me, if intriguing. “Maybe she doesn’t want a relationship either.”
Raina glanced at Lorcan and said, “I’d never put up with that treatment.”
Lorcan studiously placed crepes on plates and topped them with fresh fruit. Awkward. I should make myself scarce. Instead, I opened my stupid mouth to opine.
“You don’t have to, and you shouldn’t if you’re not comfortable with it. But Scarlett hasn’t mentioned being unhappy about the situation, and unless she does, it’s none of our business.” I aimed to be wise and magnanimous. I wouldn’t put up with it either, given a choice.
Considering that my marriage options will likely consist of picking from a handful of politically advantageous, arranged matches, I might one day welcome an agreement like that. I’m not inclined to comment on what anyone else does.
I’d rather have a few years of meaningless hookups before settling into a marriage I don’t really want, but that isn’t going to happen, clearly. After the humiliation of my first kiss, it’s hard to imagine trying again—even if I weren’t crushing hard on someone I have no business crushing on. My abrupt case of hero worship is taking longer to fade than I would like.
Raina frowned as though the notion of non-monogamy had soured her appetite. Lorcan’s plate, on the other hand, was already empty.
I helped Bashir with the washing up. “What are you working on today?”
“Geology,” he answered. Not stoned, for once. “We’re studying mineralogy. The history and chemical composition of different types of rocks and gems. It’s great!”
It’s so appropriate for one of the Mountain Folk that I couldn’t hold back a grin. “It must be nice to take a class you’re really interested in.”
“Aw, you and your little knight don’t like politics and religion?” Bashir asked, in his sweetly oblivious way, as though I haven’t openly chafed at my classes for a term and a half now.
“No. I’d much rather study ecology or biology.”
“Are you going to the climate conference next week?”
“Yes.” My father unexpectedly approved the excursion not long after The Incident. Cata’s influence, undoubtedly. I escaped with only minor admonishment to offer prayers of gratitude to the goddess.
I don’t believe in superstitious nonsense, but a deal’s a deal. I survived the attack, so I suppose I’d better start holding up my end of the bargain, no matter how it pains me to recite empty prayers. At least I can do it alone in my room without an audience, unlike at home, where I have to kneel on cold wet stone. Or give public speeches.
“So am I.” Bashir smiled widely.
“Really?!” Honestly, it’s exciting to think that we’ll have such good representation at a global conference. I’ll have a friend to chat with, and who can act as a buffer between Lorcan and me. “Are you presenting?”
“I’m doing a poster presentation on the Three Sisters.”
One of the many nicknames for the three mountains bordering the northern edge of our island home. His project makes sense, for a geology student.
“Mine is on plant ecology. Specifically, medicinal herbs. I’m trying to make a case for pharmaceutical development, particularly our herbal contraceptives. Did you know that the only contraceptive methods available to men here are condoms and vasectomies?” I asked, indignantly. I am not bothered by scientific discussions. “It’s wholly inadequate.”
Bashir didn’t seem impressed.
“What about you, Lorcan? What would you study, if given the choice?” Raina asked. Odd that she doesn’t already know. They’re so close that I assumed she confided everything to him, and vice versa.
Lorcan glances up from beneath those ridiculous lashes and says without hesitation, “History and art.”
“Interesting.” I ought to have kept my mouth shut, because his gaze fell sharply on me and I instantly felt as though I’d revealed too much in speaking a single word.
Raina propped her chin on her hand. “I’d have guessed art.”
I’d have guessed that, too. History is a surprise. Yet another layer to the onion that is Lorcan of Tenáho.
We’ve begun nibbling around the edges of editing our co-authored paper. It would be better to sit together and try to redraft, but I haven’t asked him to meet with me and he hasn’t broached the subject either. I’m still feeling my way through the seismic shift in our previously adversarial relationship.
We didn’t discuss it on the trip to Davos, which proved to be disappointingly boring. I did get to wear a suit for the first time, which was a nice change from cutesy pink gowns.
I spent most of the conference getting confused by which economists and bankers wear bow ties and which ones wear regular ties. There’s a pattern to it, but I couldn’t quite suss it out. In any event, none of the bankers appeared to be interested in loaning my country money, which is what we’re really after.
