Page 65 of Kimiko and the Accidental Proposal
Ms. Reeves nodded eagerly. “That’s one reason why the Amaranthine equivalent to hospitals are often located in mining enclaves. The reavers who cut and tune the crystals find that their souls resonate over great distances. And healers have found that the augmentation and amplification is conducive to ….”
Eloquence slouched in his chair, his attention straying to Kimiko. She was wholly focused on the discussion; indeed, she looked ready to leap in with questions of her own. Somewhere deep down, he wanted to be the one to answer her questions, but he couldn’t let his instincts rile over every little thing. Especially when he was supposed to sit back in the passive role of the pursued.
This was surprisingly frustrating. How did females endure it?
Maybe he should ask one of his sisters. Or Flay, since he’d be seeing her sooner.
When Ms. Reeves finally announced a break, Isla poked his shoulder. “You didn’t raise your hand.”
“Did I miss something?”
“An informal survey. About two-thirds of the Amaranthine in class have had their first taste. You haven’t?”
“I have.” Harmonious had arranged for his first taste early, probably in the hopes that it would lead to a growth spurt. “A long time ago.”
“You don’t like it…?”
Quen sighed. He liked the elation of touching a potent soul, but he didn’t like the accompanying vulnerability. Trust was hard. And he immediately felt foolish, given how quickly he’d decided to trust Kimiko. “I liked it too well.”
Her expression immediately wavered toward concern. “If this is too personal….”
“Nothing like that.” He lightly touched her golden hair and smiled into eyes that reminded him of laughing green. “He was only a little older than you back then. And I haven’t really wanted anyone since.”
Isla’s eyes had the same sparkle, her smile the same shape. “You and Papka?”
He nodded.
“Are you one of his special favorites?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Sensei still brings people to him for their first taste. Because he’s a gentleman. And gentle. Was he your first taste?”
The question was intensely personal, but Quen answered with a shake of his head. “My last.”
“Do you miss him?”
How to answer. “The person I remember was a boy. He has become someone else since the days when he tried to help me.”
Isla pursed her lips. “Do people change that much?”
Eloquence sheepishly admitted, “I haven’t mingled with humans enough to know.”
“Well, if he tried to help you, he wouldn’t forget.” She had her phone out, tapping at the screen. “He gets attached.”
“What are you doing?”
“I may not have Papka’s finesse, but I have his number. I’m texting him.”
Before Quen could protest, she hitsend.
Seconds passed as Quen’s heart hammered, and his scalp prickled uncomfortably with sweat. He hadn’t known he cared so much about Michael Ward, who had listened so seriously to Dad’s gruff explanations before making two demands—privacy and time.
Unhurried and uninhibited, the First of Wards had won his trust. And for a few weeks, Quen felt as if he shared one soul with another person.
In the months that followed the young reaver’s departure, the pack had written off Quen’s dismal mood as disappointment that Michael hadn’t been able to explain or cure his delayed development. But Uncle Laud understood. “You have grown.”
Eloquence remembered demanding, “How?”
Laud had pulled him close, pressing their foreheads together. And for a moment, it was as if one of them were Kith, because Laud’s voice found its way into Quen’s mind, sharing words that were too private for utterance.To love is to grow.
Isla’s phone offered a softting, and she leaned into his side, letting him see the screen while she tapped her way through a brief exchange.
