Page 43 of A Court of Sugar and Spice
“She doesn’t eat or drink while she’s working.” It’s Louisa’s voice. She’s standing right behind him. “And it causes her real distress if anyone looks at the piece before she’s ready.”
“A true artist.” Finias still looks concerned, but he bows to me, taking my hand and kissing my paint-stained fingers. “Very well. I won’t look, if you promise to drink some water.”
I nod. “And then you must leave me alone. It will take me several minutes to get back into the right frame of mind, now that you’ve interrupted me.”
“I’ll fetch the water.” The faerie races down the hall.
Louisa steps into the room, which is bathed in the amber light of the sinking sun. “It felt wrong, leaving you here alone today. I was worried.”
“I was perfectly safe. I enjoyed having some peace and quiet after yesterday.”
I want to sink back into the mesmerizing creative space I’ve enjoyed all day, but my sister looks dejected. Sorrowful. So I don’t ask her to leave, not even when Finias returns with the water.
“Half of it sloshed out while I was running,” he says ruefully. “Drink the rest, and I’ll get some more.”
“This is enough for now,” I tell him. “Please make another door on your way out.”
He cocks an eyebrow, glancing at Louisa, who has just sunk into a chair nearby. “Shegets to stay?”
“She’s my sister.”
“Oh, very well. But you must promise to talk to me later. I’m a very needy host and I require the charming company of my gorgeous guest.”
The heated look in his eyes sends a flurry of delighted anticipation through my stomach. “Later, I promise.”
With another bow, he leaves the room, and a door solidifies in the doorway again, shutting with a click.
Sipping the water, I walk to Louisa and lay a hand on her shoulder. “Did things not go well?”
“Oh, they went fine.” She cups her fingers over mine. “We’ve secured the services of five mercenaries for the trip. They need some time to make arrangements and gather supplies, so we’ll leave the day after tomorrow.”
“Were you attacked on the way?”
“Not on the way to the tavern. On the way back we encountered three rat-soldiers, but Fin and Lir made quick work of them.”
“Lir?”
“The Nutcracker.” A muscle flicks in her temple when she speaks of him. Which gives me a clue about what’s bothering her.
“Was he unkind to you today? The Prince?”
“I tried to seduce him again. He rejected me. Why does he keep rejecting me?”
“Perhaps he is simply uninterested in sex? Can he even interact that way, with the curse in effect?”
“Oh, he could. And he wants me—there was ample proof of that. Or rather, his body wants me. Mentally he hates me, I think. He called me a slut.”
My fingers tighten on the mug in my hand, my pulse quickening with anger. “He didn’t.”
“He did.”
“I’ll have a word with him.” I stalk toward the door.
“Don’t, Clara. I’ll speak to him later. Men have called me that before, when I lost interest in them, but it didn’t hurt when they said it. It hurt from him, because Iwanthim. I want him badly. And I don’t understand why, because we argue constantly, and he’s so damn infuriating, and prejudiced, and proud. But the way he craves me sometimes—I can’t describe it. It’s as if he has bound himself with so many chains, but underneath he is a creature of incredible passion, capable of caring and feeling so much if he would just let himself go, justonce.”
The intensity of her tone surprises me. “I’ve never heard you talk like this about anyone.”
“I’ve never been rejected over and over like this.” She laughs a little. “I don’t like it. I wouldn’t recommend it. Lucky for you, Fin seems utterly captivated by your charms.”
