Page 74 of Sugar & Sorcery
24
Spells, living beings, and emotions can die but never truly disappear.
LEMPICKA
“Idon’t find this amusing, Master,” Yeun grumbled, reluctantly giving a handful of seeds to the ostrich perched far too comfortably on his human shoulder. “And you, Miss Lempicka, though sir may be a lost cause, I expected better from you.”
I clamped a hand over my mouth to smother my laughter. Arawn, meanwhile, leaned against the kitchen window ledge, arms crossed, looking perfectly indifferent. Guimauve—the ostrich, whom I had gleefully renamed like a marshmallow—categorically refused to leave Yeun. An obsession that gave Arawn and me the perfect excuse to mock him, like two children playing a prank on their cranky old uncle.
At least Yeun had company. Someone to care for. Even if that someone was a little too possessive bird.
Arawn’s lips stretched into a thin smile. “Thanks to your affection?—”
“It’s one-sided!” Yeun blurted, flushing crimson. “No, Guimauve, I do not return your?—”
Guimauve let out a long, accusing cry.
“Yes, it was Miss Lempicka who gave you that name. No, she isn’t jealous. Don’t say such?—”
“She’ll lay an egg for our recipe thanks to you.” Arawn scratched Guimauve under the beak, the ostrich leaning in, delighted. “Seems you’re part of the equation after all. Isn’t there a proverb that says the more, the merrier?”
“Undoubtedly, sir, but it refers more to festivities… not the preparation of an elixir meant to end a life.”
I was no longer listening. My focus had zeroed in entirely on my mission of winning Guimauve’s affection. The ostrich seemed to like everyone… except me.
“Details,” Arawn sighed. “If you prefer, I could entrust you with the thrilling task of arranging my funeral after?—”
I held out a piece of dried fruit to Guimauve. She blew noisily and batted it away with her beak.
“Forgive her. Guimauve is… rather territorial. She sees you as a rival,” Yeun coughed, clearing his throat. “For my affection. She says it’s… the seduction hormones you give off.”
My cheeks burned hot. “Thewhathormones?”
“As if Lempicka would ever have a soft spot for you,” Arawn mocked, his tone dripping disdain, his glare at Yeun icy enough to snuff out a fire.
I slammed a napkin onto the table. “Yeun is charming! I’m sure he’s had his share of admirers?—”
“Too old for you,” Arawn cut in.
“If I may, sir, we are practically the same age…” Yeun faltered, pinned in place by Arawn’s and Guimauve’s frozen stares. “Wait… You’re not jealous, are you?”
“No,” Arawn and the ostrich answered in perfect unison.
Yeun smothered a laugh, readjusting his mustache. “I must admit, I’m flattered. Never would I have imagined being so desirable. To consider me a rival, truly?—”
Arawn snapped his fingers. A gust of wind lifted Yeun off his feet, vanishing him into a purple flame, leaving Guimauve screeching indignantly.
“I can’t indulge your delusions any longer,” Arawn grumbled, dusting off his hands. “I have business to attend in the human world.”
I raised my head. “Oh? What sort of business?”
I had grown used to his presence over the past few days. To those moments where I’d catch him watching me from the doorway as I baked. Even Aignan’s exasperated sighs, punctuated by slamming windows whenever Arawn lingered too long, couldn’t dull that warmth in my chest at the sight of him.
“Make sure Lempicka doesn’t form a rebellion or another of her grand plans,” Arawn tossed over his shoulder at Yeun.
“Hey!” I protested, hands on my hips. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You have that look. The one you get when you’re scheming trouble.”
