Page 46 of A Touch of Poison
“And by ‘tea’”—Rose arched an eyebrow—“I’m assuming she means the alcoholic concoctions we make up with fae spirits and fruit juice and so on. It’s my new favourite thing.”
“I, uh…”
Ari’s look matched the beseeching one Fluffy had given me.
I chuckled. “Of course. I’d love to.” Even if I couldn’t get drunk, Rose was starting to feel like she could become a friend rather than just a bodyguard. Besides, I’d take any excuse to avoid Bastian.
“Good,” Ari sighed like she’d been afraid I was going to say no. “Now, dresses for the ball.” Stroking her lower lip, she surveyed me and nodded. “I have just the thing.”
17
Kat
The next morning, it wasn’t Bastian who walked me down to the training yard but Faolán. Thank the gods. I was still avoiding Bastian. Yesterday I’d only lingered to get my antidote before making an excuse to go to my room. He’d muttered something and seemed set to say more, but I didn’t want to hear it.
And today, my head pounded too much to even think about it.
“You know, I won’t tell Bastian if we skip training today—start tomorrow. You could go and catch some sleep. I’m sure Rose wouldn’t mind.” I gave Faolán a hopeful look.
He looked down at me out the corner of his eye. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with you staying up to an ungodly hour with my wife and Ariadne, would it?”
I’d had a nice time with Rose and Ari. Thatnice timemight’ve involved a few of Rose’s concoctions. Turned out fae drinks infused with magic still had an effect on me. I even managed to pocket somearianmêl—there was no telling when that might prove useful.
Strategising aside, I had laughed—and not only because of magical fae alcohol. Rose and Faolán’s home was cosy and simple, cluttered with cushions and little carved knick-knacks that spoke of a happy life. Sure, there were a few more knives slotted in the umbrella rack than I’d expect in the average home, but Faolán seemed the type to want to be prepared.
Although I’d let Rose and Ari speak the most—telling me about their childhood growing up together in a small Albionic town near the border—I’d shared a little about myself. I hadn’t told them about Lunden and me and Bastian and they hadn’t asked, but it was the closest I’d come to relaxing since waking in the Hall of Healing.
Even so, Ari had all too casually dropped into conversation the fact male fae took “precautions” to prevent unwanted pregnancy. Rose had shifted uncomfortably, and I’d leapt up to fetch more drinks. I wasn’t going to be fucking anyone any time soon. I was only taking the preventative because it eased my periods.
As cosy as his home was, Faolán raised an eyebrow when I asked for leniency. “Luckily, enemies are kind enough to only attack when you’re well-rested and at peak health.”
I groaned, hating him for being right. “Rose said you were gruff, but she didn’t say anything about merciless.”
“Hmm.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “I have plenty of mercy. Just not when the suffering is self-inflicted.” He called over one of the fae lights bobbing through the yard, caught it in his palm, and mashed it into the ball. “Especially not when Bastian will inflict even more suffering on me for not doing my job.”
So training it was. I tried to hit the balls as he threw them. Once I was even successful.
After, for when I didn’t want to kill, he took me through some basic self-defence, which he summarised as “go for the soft bits, then it doesn’t matter how strong you are.”
Eyes. Ears. Nose. Groin. Throat. Knees. Instep. Not all soft, but places that hurt and would send an attacker reeling—hopefully long enough for me to escape.
As Faolán dodged my attempt to stamp on his foot, I reminded myself that at least I was better at archery than self-defence… or magic.
The past couple of days, Rose hadtriedto teach me, explaining how she turned inward and found it.
But whenIturned inward, I couldn’t find any magic, only my own thoughts. Despite my hard work and her patience, the whole session had been pointless.
Like my poison, magic was something that had been done to me and now lingered, not something I could use.
As Faolán and I finished in the training yard, I wasn’t sure if the sweat coating my skin was down to the hard work or my hangover. Why didn’t fae, in creating their magically infused alcohol, also make it so it didn’t make you feel so shit the next day? Maybe they didn’t suffer from anything so mundane as hangovers.
But I would be able to enjoy regular alcohol again soon. On my return to Bastian’s rooms, a message waited from Elthea, summoning me for another appointment. So soon after that checkup—this had to be a cure, or at least progress towards one.
That hope still buzzed through me later as I squared my shoulders and left Dusk’s side of the palace with Rose. She walked me to the Hall of Healing, but even if she hadn’t, it felt safer on the streets with the yew bow on my back and the boot pistol at my thigh. I waved her off to wait for me at Ariadne’s shop and headed inside.
* * *
Elthea satme in the sparse treatment room I’d woken up in. A thin mask of the same material as the gloves she wore around me covered her nose and mouth. But I knew her well enough by now to know she didn’t smile in greeting.
