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“No. But mostly because we’ve been distracted. The repair on the keep is almost complete. Who knew brick laying took so much effort. Worse, this fix is temporary. I’ve sent out messagesto our allies, asking if they have any masons willing to come work here for generous compensation.”
“I’m sure someone will accept your offer.”
“I hope so. I’d hate for the keep to tumble about our ears.” Amelia leaned forward so only her face appeared in the mirror. “What’s your next move?”
Fionna held up her bag of items from the marketplace. “Removing the curse from Lomar.”
“Will it be dangerous?”
“Most likely.”
Amelia sighed. “Is one man’s life really worth your own?”
“It’s not just one man, though. If this curse spreads, Srayth will be in serious trouble as we don’t have enough talismans to protect everyone.”
“Very well. Keep me apprised, and if it works, I’ll want the full accounting for our records.”
“Of course.” All new spells and procedures, successful or not, were noted in the archive for reference. It was something they began only a century ago after Maisy—a witch who used to serve at the keep—died without teaching anyone how she turned water to wine. Or so the stories claimed.
Fionna ended the mirror connection and paced her room, going over in her head how she would proceed with Lomar. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her of the hour. Before the warlord could fetch her and start even more tongues wagging, she headed for the dining hall, arriving early enough no one sat at the head table. She preferred to sit in a corner, eating quickly and quietly, but the side eyes from those present made it clear she wasn’t welcome to sit with or near them.
Despite her ducked head, she knew the moment Kormac entered the room. She didn’t look. Didn’t have to because he sat right beside her instead of in his chair.
She cast him a glare.
He smiled and drawled, “Fine evening.”
“If you say so.”
“How’s your dinner?”
She glanced at her mostly empty plate before saying, “Done. Enjoy yours.”
She rose and left, but he followed, escorting her to her room, hovering close enough that she couldn’t help but be hyper-aware of him.
And hot.
So very, very flushed.
“You’re annoyed,” he stated, leaning against the doorjamb while she grabbed the bag from the market.
“It’s like you’re purposely trying to give your people the wrong impression,” she huffed rather than admit having him near discomfited.
“What happened to men and woman can be friends who converse?”
“Elsewhere, yes. Here, they think the moment your mouth opens in my direction it’s because we’re intimate.”
“Would that be so bad?”
“I don’t want a lover.”
“Meaning you don’t currently have one waiting in Acca?”
“No. I told you I chose a life of celibacy.” Her chin lifted as she stated, “I’m a virgin with no interest in sex.”
He somehow managed to fall out of the doorway but recovered quickly, stalking in, his eyes intent as he rumbled, “I thought that meant you’d sworn off sex, but… You are untouched?”
“Yes.”
