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Maybe the effect is lessened if you’re around her more.

“It’s not your job to abandon your own work because I don’t like crowds,” she tells him.

Oh, that’s what she didn’t quite say earlier.

If everyone reacts to her like they’ve been struck across the face with a magical backlash, I can see why.

“What were you working on today?” Teren asks, not actually agreeing with her.

I exchange a glance with Zan, who looks back at me with some amusement.

Aha.

I dig around the edges of the tub and listen intently.

“Another boot painting,” Sunani says. “Apparently one of them actually sold—”

“What?” I gasp, my head shooting up.

Teren smacks his forehead. “Of course! I didn’t think you might want to see them.”

It’s Sunani’s turn to blink. “What?”

I hike my leg up onto the table and point at my boot. “Youmade these?!”

Teren mutters, “Howare you this flexible.”

I wave him off. “You’ll be more flexible too once you start actually doing your exercises.”

“Hey, how can you tell—”

I roll my eyes. “You’re not moving like a person who’s sore, are you?”

I look back at Sunani expectantly, who has gone from staring at my foot in surprise to smiling a little.

“Haben makes the boots, but I painted them,” Sunani admits.

Ha! I knew it.

“But given the price, I never really thought—”

“Don’t tell her,” Zan says sharply.

I put my boot down and level an accusing finger at him again.

He crosses his arms. “My resources are mine to spend how I choose.”

“And I can punch you any time I want,” I remind him in turn.

Zan’s lips curve.

Teren says dryly to Sunani, “They’re always like this.”

“I see,” she says faintly.

“Sunani is a painter,” Teren explains to me. “She’s been experimenting with different mediums lately.”

I finish getting Sunani her ice cream.