Page 56 of These Vile Hearts

A dull thump and a muffled curse come from somewhere nearby. Seconds later a flash of red appears as Maddox rounds the corner, smoothing her mint-green dress down over her speckled thighs. In her right hand she holds a bottle of what looks like cherry wine.

“Bit early to be drinking, is it not?” I call out to her.

She stumbles, nearly dropping the bottle.

Her attention moves from me to Tamarind standing in the shadow cast by the stationary windmill, his locs hanging loosely to his shoulders and a distrustful expression on his face.

A hint of annoyance colors her tone. “Do neither of you sleep?”

“Not much, no,” I say. “Is that wine?”

She holds up the bottle, as if she’d forgotten it was there. “Yes, actually. I was…bringing it to you.”

“Poison?”

A laugh escapes her rose-colored lips. She moves closer, keeping an eye on Tamarind, as if she believes moving too quickly will force him to use his scythe. Can’t say I blame her. “I figured it was only fair, after you brought me coffee last night. There’s a chance you may have saved a few lives, mine most of all.”

“Well, I’ve got good news for you, then.” I wave a hand at the intricately carved stone mug and glass carafe sitting on the table before me. Steam rises like hands beckoning her forward.

“Morecoffee?”

“I figured you would need it after your first night at Magesté.”

“If I accept that, then you should have a glass of wine. To keep it fair. I would hate to owe you yet another debt.” She places the bottle on the iron table. “I’ll go get a glass.”

“No need.” I reach inside my thin cloak and remove a mini goblet I keep for emergencies.

“You carry spare goblets around with you?”

“Can’t be too careful when you are king, can you?” Swiping the bottle from the table, I examine the paper label tied to the top.

Choke Me Cherry

Magesté

“I guess we’re still uneven in regard to gifts,” she says. “Coffee is a rarity here and it seems wine is plentiful.”

“Yes, but this is Magesté wine. The only rival would be Aronia wine from Willamette Valley. Also, it’s a gift from you. That makes it quite the rarity.”

“Yeah…I’m afraid I’ve gifted you nothing but grief these past few nights.”

At least she is aware.

I peer slyly up at her. “And a golden dagger.”

Maddox sits across from me, perching like a raptor ready to fly away at the first sign of danger. Or prey. “You gave that back, remember?”

“Just the grief, then.”

I slide the steaming coffee toward her, and she takes the mug, breathing in deeply. She makes that little moan sound. Again.

Bleeding trees, can I know no peace?

“I’m afraid I neglected to bring cream or sugar. Perhaps the Magesté kitchen has some?”

“My dad always said putting cream and sugar in coffee was like dipping steak in ketchup.” She takes a tentative sip, closing her eyes as she swallows. “I spent years choking it down for the sake of caffeine until I actually started to taste the subtle flavors over the bitterness.”

“And what does your father think of all your dryad dalliances?”