Page 52 of Fate's Sweetest Curse
I looked down at table. The clusters of miniature white flowers, the black berries that looked like the beady eyes of rodents, the dull green powder of the thistle. Everything looked the same, except…
I picked up a flower stalk, observing the bundles of tiny buds and blooms. “I guess the petals are a little paler than the ones I usually use?”
Phina took the stalk from me, studying it closely. “Whatvarietalof Hylder did you say you use?”
My brow furrowed. “I use a blend. Usually Common Hylder, but sometimes Golden Hylder, and Waldron has a lot of Black Lace Hylder.”
Phina beamed at me.
“What?” I asked, sensing her excitement but dubious of the pride swelling in my sternum.
“Remember this feeling, Hattie,” Phina exclaimed. “It’s your first breakthrough.”
19
Victim
Hattie
AndthenI said, ‘Why would I take advice from someone who doesn’t understand the difference between the early Sharmidian period and the late Sharmidian period?’” Sani said, gesturing so vigorously that a droplet of juniper concoctail sloshed out of her cup.
“You. Told.Him,” Uriel deadpanned.
We were sitting on the woven rug in the small living area of our dorm, pillows scattered about. After my modest success in the lab this afternoon, I’d wanted to celebrate with something tasty, and Sani and Uriel—though not privy to the details of my breakthrough—were more than happy to join me.
“He turnedcarnelian,” Sani exclaimed, clearly proud of the effectiveness of her insult—even if Uriel and I didn’t quite follow. “Xier has been tormenting me with snide comments and corrections formonths; he deserved a retort.”
“Have you considered the possibility that he wishes tocourtyou,” Uriel asked, “and that is why he insults you?”
“Have you considered the possibility that unkind courtship methods are repulsive?” Sani replied.
“I was not suggesting it was amaturemethod.”
Sani turned to me. “What do you think, Hattie?”
Their discourse reminded me of when Raina and I debated whether or not Brendan liked me. After I was sent to Poe, I was forbidden from sending Raina letters, in case our correspondence was intercepted. I’dcried nightly formonths, wracked with the pain of missing her. The only balm to my broken heart had been Anya’s compassionate presence, her cups of tea and quiet solidarity for the weepy young woman she’d brought into her inn.
“He sounds tiring,” I replied, taking a swig of my drink. The balance of juniper and syrup wasjust right—at once botanical and sweet.
“I do appreciate crushing the spirits of lesser apprentices,” Uriel said. “Especially those who deign to act superior when they are not.”
“If we weren’t friends, you’d scare me,” Sani said.
Uriel’s grin was all teeth.
I stretched my legs out, leaning against the base of the reading chair at my back. Between the alcohol, the cheeriness of my friends, and our cozy nest of pillows on the plush rug, I felt more relaxed than I had inweeks. Even the torment of Noble’s presence felt faraway.
I closed my eyes, listening to the flow of conversation, which had pivoted away from Sani’s nemesis to Sani making fun of Uriel’s rather intense crush on the professor’s assistant in her writing class. “You’re in love with a poet!”Sani was insisting, while Uriel denied such sentimentalities with terse grunts and halfhearted deflections.
Anya liked to call me a romantic, but my romanticism came more from longing than optimism. After my escape from Poe-on-Wend, I’d dared to hope that true love existed. I’d entertained a few dalliances in Waldron—with long walks along the river, nights spent dancing at festivals, lazy mornings in my bed—but none had feltright.They either didn’t get my humor, or found my reading habits tiresome, or we simply lacked connection.
And what did it matter, anyway, when I couldn’t offer them my whole self?
There were times I felt envious of Anya and Idris’s relationship. They respected each other, doted on each other, lusted after each other, and felt safe with each other. Even when they bickered over chores at thePossum and around town—Idris always insisting he take care ofall of it, Anya always demanding she help, too—it was still clear that they were on the same side.
Joyful. Loyal. Honest.That’swhat I wanted.
In adolescence, I’d experienced stolen moments with Noble that felt like that—moments that seemedheadierthan friendship—but he’d been consistent in his refusals. Firm. And now…now, he was downright chilly—for good reason.
