Page 126 of A Touch of Poison
Other than that customary scowl, Faolán’s expressions tended to be quite subtle, especially when his beard disguised the movement of his jaw and mouth. But I spotted the corner of his lips rise.
“I knew you’d forget, so I picked these up for you.” He reached inside the door and produced my bow and quiver.
I eyed them, then raised an eyebrow at him. “Do I really need a weapon on the Solstice?”
He canted his head.
“But…” I gestured at my dress and cloak. It wasn’t exactly an outfit for accessorising with a bow.
“Luckily—”
“Don’t say it.” I cleared my throat and lowered my voice, making it gruff like his. “Luckily, enemies are kind enough to only attack when your outfit matches your weapon.”
“Hmm.” His lips pressed together, and from the doorway came a laugh as Rose emerged. But she was wearing a pair of long knives at her belt and Faolán had his, too.
With a sigh, I strapped the bow to my back.
We bought mulled wine and toasted to “surviving the dark,” since it was the shortest day of the year. Wandering the city, we stopped to listen to singers and watch dancers. In one square, a troupe wearing skin-tight shimmering outfits performed with flaming staves and hoops. I stood breathless as they dared to dance with fire, letting it lick their bodies.Thatwas bravery.
In a park in the lower city, we caught the tail end of a play. The Winter King took the Summer Queen to his bed, bringing a long, deep winter to the land, just as he—the villain—had intended. But what he hadn’t counted on was the Summer Queen melting his heart of ice and emerging, pregnant with spring and all the newness of a fresh year. Different from the tale they told in Albion—that one contained less sex but a lot more bloodshed as the Holly King and the Oak King battled for supremacy.
I think I preferred the version with seduction.
“What is it you keep smirking about?” Ella eyed me sidelong as we left the park, caught up in the crowd.
“Smirking?” I touched my mouth—my traitorous mouth—and pushed my expression to something more innocent. “I’m sure I wasn’t smirking.”
Rose ducked in. “You absolutely were.”
“I noticed it, too,” Ariadne murmured.
From ahead, Faolán cleared his throat as he made space for us to pass through the crowd. “She’s been doing it all day.”
Asher had “just happened” to bump into us shortly after we left Rose and Faolán’s house, and he and Perry were off to one side, too wrapped up in their own conversation to join the judgement of my facial expressions.
“See?” Ella widened her eyes at me. “Spill it. I can tell something happened.”
At the shapechanger’s growl, I dawdled to put a bit of distance between us. Even though Bastian and I had only hugged, I had a feeling he wouldn’t approve of it. Just in front of me, Rose and Ari angled their heads in a way that said they were listening.
“He apologised.”
Ella frowned, then dipped her head as though prompting me. “Right. He already apologised though. On your trip. Is your memory all right?”
I huffed out a soft laugh. What a complicated question. “This was different…” I summarised the conversation, the fact he’d taken what I’d said on the road and had thought it through and not simply said the words. He understood exactly what he was apologising for.
The thing that had felt wrong between us. It was gone.
“Hewhat?” Rose spun, eyes wide. “He swore on his magic? He said those words?”
“Is that… bad?”
Ari sucked in a breath. “Not bad, but… they aren’t just pretty words.”
“That vow”—Rose hung back, letting Faolán get several paces ahead of us—“is literal, not metaphorical.”
I blinked from her to Ari. “Meaning?”
Ari cleared her throat and leant in. “If he breaks it, he loses his magic.”
