Page 75 of Insolence
Bibi croaks a greeting, her feathers fluffing up. She’s perched on the iron bistro table at the end of the greenhouse, opposite the tiny stove. Behind her, clay seedling pots are stacked on the table.
Kneeling at her planters, the priestess has a pair of snippers in her hand.
“It’s unbelievably muggy in here,” I drawl. “I don’t know how you stand it.”
“Low blood pressure.” Mask in place, Elodie peeks over her shoulder. “Anywhere else, I’m always cold.”
“Interesting,” I purr. But I couldn’t be less interested—at least, not in the blood pressure issue.
I’m far more invested in the fine figure she cuts at the end of the flagstone aisle, framed against her precious roses.
“You didn’t seem cold in that crevice behind the Orrery Tower.” I have no idea where the courage to say it comes from.
But I also knowI’mnot making the decisions anymore. I’m no longer the one in control.
She stiffens. Voice husky and heady like cigar smoke and whiskey, she says, “That was different.”
Sure it was different.I giggle.Your leg was between my thighs. Leaning back in the chair, I let myself sag. “You know, we haven’t spent a minute alone together since the party.”
“I have duties, Tiss. As do you.” The rich, smoky tone sends a flutter through my stomach. “You should probably get back to yours.”
Winter flowers overflow their boxes on either side of the aisle. Watching a butterfly alight on the velvety, crimson petals of a chrysanthemum, I feel tipsy. Nearly drunk.
“I’ll just take a short break.” Under its own power, my hand rises to the front of my chambray shirt. “The cabbages aren’t going anywhere, I promise.”
Absorbed in trimming her roses, the high priestess grunts but doesn’t argue. The stove in the corner gives a quietpingas my fingers work, plucking open my buttons one by one.
Perhaps it's the abrupt lack of inhibitions, but something about my perception shifts ever so slightly. And yet, the change in perspective iseverything.
Sunshine fills the cozy glasshouse. Glancing around, I take in every intricate leaf and petal edged in golden light. Pollen and dust motes drift and dazzle, swirling through the air like silt stirred up at the bottom of a very clear pond.
It’s a gorgeous day.
I breathe deeply, inhaling the flowers’ perfume, and my heart throbs with gladness. Everything suddenly feelsrightandgood. I feel truly happy for the first time since before I can remember.
Then, as I admire the kneeling priestess, something like a magnifying lens drops into position. It corrects my up-to-now unrealized myopia.
Oh.I sigh, feeling foolish that I’m only now noticing—the person inside of Elodie’s body is distinctly and decidedly no longer a woman.
Not today.
“Besides,” I murmur, breathing in the roses’ perfume, “I have a question for you.”
In fact, he’s very obviously a man. Which also seemsrightandgood.
“Something we discussed in class?”
Today isn’t the first time I’ve encountered him, either. “No.”
“Well. Like I told you. There are things I can’t discuss.”
“Mm. I remember.” Shirt undone to my abdomen, I tug the open edges further apart. Air on my damp skin is a sweet respite, but it isn’t enough to soothe the ardor blistering my veins. “It’s just that you seem… not your normal self today.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s almost as if—” I’m inebriated and reckless with the shimmering, redolent air and the heat bubbling through my blood. “You’re not Elodie anymore, are you?”
His spine goes rigid. Trimmers paused in mid-air, he stares dead ahead.
