Page 32 of Insolence
“I thought we could visit the Archive together,” says Sadrie.
“You’re crazy,” I say between bites. “We have chores soon. And I’m busy planning a murder over here.”
“I think we all know by now that yes, I am arguably insane.” Sadrie directs her response to the book in her hand. “Evidenced by the fact that I continue to put up withyourmystifying shit, Itissa.”
“If you can’t hack it, then leave the work to someone who can, Sadrielle,” I snark, a crumb flying from my mouth.
Cordelia blurts laughter. “I sincerely hope you’re not referring tome.” She turns to Sadrie. “Count me out if she’s going to be like this.”
Sadrie lowers her book, fixing me with a look that says she and I are damn well finding the Archive on her terms, whether I like it or not. Moreover, I’m going to have fun if it kills me.
Gods help me, something about her determination is extremely attractive.
She snaps the book shut and stands. “I only want to glance inside for a moment. I haven’t been in there yet, and you owe me for listening to your endless nattering last night. And for whateverthisis about.” She waves a hand over me before laying it over her heart, fluttering her eyelashes dramatically. “Come on, Tiss,please? For me?”
Somewhere inside of me, I already knew she was going to bat her eyes and plead like that. My chest clenches, warmth flooding my bloodstream. My frustration with Elodie ratchets down several notches.
I set my food down and regard my friend, fighting the urge to grab her and kiss her just to see how much of my mystifying shit she’ll actually put up with. What I choose tosaybefore she hauls me off the bench is, “I don’t care how damn cute you’re being, because that’s not—Hey!”
I’m jerked to my feet. My ripe persimmon rolls off my lap, landing with asplaton the floor.
Cordelia chuckles. “Serves you right.”
“I’m not dignifying whatever you were going to say with a response,” says Sadrie. “Time’s running short. Let’s go.”
“Murdering my fruit is definitely a response!”
“You ladies havefunnow,” singsongs Cordelia. She’s busy crumbling my half-eaten bread for the finches. A veritable flock descends on the crumbs, along with the remains of my pie and the mangled persimmon.
Sadrie merely laughs, dragging me toward the cloakroom.
Chapter 10
Itissa
The Archive is a small wing connected to the rear of a much larger building called the Gallery of the Goddess that I haven’t yet visited.
“So you’rereallynot going to tell me?” Sadrie whines while we cross beneath the Waymark’s branches.
“For the last time, there’s nothing to tell.”
“Oh, there’s definitelysomethingto tell.” She nudges her shoulder into mine. “You stormed into lunch looking like someone ripped your heart out and set it on fire.”
“Will you hush?” Mortified, I glance at a group of new initiates talking and laughing by the clock tower. Which ishopefullytoo far away to hear us, but gods only know.
Sadrie looks around the courtyard, her expression a caricature of deep puzzlement. “Everyone is clearly preoccupied. And out of earshot.”
“Doesn’t matter. I thought I could trust you not to go blabbing my business in broad daylight.”
“That was a judgment error on your part, but I don’t blame you. I’ve got an honest face.” She shoots me a saintly smile, propping her chin on the back of her hand.
I groan, briefly fantasizing about wringing her neck, and give her a shove. It sends her weaving away from me, her head thrown back in laughter.
Several members of the clock tower group stop their chitchat to stare.
“Will youpleasestifle yourself?”
She trots back. “All right, all right, I’m sorry. I’ll be more subtle in public. But if you’re not going to tell me what happened before lunch, then at least fill me in on what in the hell Iinterruptedyesterday.” She leans in close, whispering the last part.
