The Blood Spell (Ravenspire, #4)(23)
Fortunately, he’d spent the last ten years learning how to artfully dodge questions about his misdeeds at the academy. As Gen mouthed, “I’m sorry,” with her face turned away from her mother, he gave her a charming smile and then extended the same to Lady Gaillard as he said, “I’m afraid my secretary keeps my engagement calendar. I really couldn’t say if you are on it at the moment. But do send an invitation if there’s an event you’d like me to attend.”
A snort of laughter came from the shop’s doorway, and Kellan sent Blue a withering glare. It wasn’t like he was enjoying the situation. He was making the best of the responsibility he’d been given. She should be ecstatic.
She shook her head and disappeared inside the shop. Kellan moved to follow—picking up his mother’s headache cream and finally seeing Pierre again were the reasons for his trip—but Lady Gaillard wasn’t through with him yet. It was a full five minutes of flattery, compliments, and dodging questions before he was able to extricate himself and enter the shop.
The main room was a light, airy space with dark red shelves against the walls, polished tables to display larger goods, and a few bins of candy or little potted creams near Pierre’s coin till. Pierre was busy explaining the differences between two types of powders to a woman who looked like a farmer. He looked up when the door’s chimes sang, and his face split into a wide, welcoming grin as he saw Kellan.
The prince smiled back—a real, from-the-heart smile, the kind he reserved only for family—and then nodded at the customer, giving Pierre permission to finish the transaction rather than bow and greet his prince. Fully expecting Lady Gaillard to enter the shop on his heels, Kellan made straight for the storeroom where Pierre had often welcomed him as a child.
As Kellan passed through the doorway, he motioned for his guards to remain behind and said, “Make sure no one but Pierre follows me.”
And then he was in the long storeroom with its stocked shelves, its carefully stored tools, its worktable, and its stove with two pots of liquid bubbling on its burners. Behind him, he heard Lady Gaillard’s voice rise above the shop’s door chimes. Closing his eyes, he pressed his fingers against them in a futile effort to stave off a burgeoning headache.
“What are you doing in my storeroom?”
Kellan opened his eyes to find Blue standing beside some shelves full of amber jars with dried leaves inside. There was a scowl on her face, and her foot tapped impatiently. She made no move to curtsy. He had the sudden, inexplicable urge to laugh.
For nearly two weeks, he’d been courted, flattered, cajoled, and lied to by every person who saw him, with the exception of his family and Gen, in the twenty minutes he’d spent with her when he’d first arrived. It was exhausting to feel like he needed armor for every single interaction. But here was Blue, just as tiny and fierce as she had been the other night, and she had no intention of giving him pretty, meaningless words or soft lies. She would speak her mind plainly, whether he liked it or not. She always had.
“I came to see your father. I’ve missed him.”
She sighed, clearly annoyed. “Well, don’t touch anything.”
“What’s the fun in that?”
“Maybe you should think less about having fun and more about keeping your fool head attached to your neck long enough to be given the crown.”
He deliberately leaned against the closest shelf just to see her eyes narrow. “Maybe you should learn to loosen up and find a little fun now and then.”
“I have plenty of fun.”
He rolled his eyes and picked up a jar full of a thick, dark red liquid. “Doing what? Mixing potions and making sure everyone around you is following every single rule? We need to work on your definition of fun.”
“Well, I can promise you it doesn’t include getting punched in the face. And unless you want to risk losing your fingers, I’d put the korash acid down.”
Hastily, he returned the jar to the shelf, knocking over another jar in the process. As he set the shelf to rights, Blue said, “I told you not to touch anything.”
Her tone was irritation personified, and it was like taking a breath of fresh air. The weight on his chest eased.
Maybe she interfered too much with his life, and maybe he deliberately provoked her just to make her mad, but here, he didn’t have to parse through words for hidden meanings or worry that if he said the wrong thing, his sister would pay the price. Here he was just a boy irritating the girl who’d always ruined his best-laid plans. The rush of affection that warmed him was a surprise, but not nearly as surprising as the next words that came out of his mouth.
“You look beautiful today, Blue.”
When she shot him a startled look, the words tumbled out, faster and faster while a strange, unwelcome heat burned in his face. “I mean . . . you probably look beautiful every day, I have no idea. I’ve never really looked. I mean, I’ve looked, but not like that. Not that I’m looking at you like that, because of course I’m not. I just . . . It was an observation.”
What was wrong with him? He’d taken pride in being able to charm any girl at the academy into a kiss, a dance, or both. And here he stood babbling like a fool in front of the one girl who couldn’t stand him.
And he couldn’t stand her either, he reminded himself. He really couldn’t. He was just grateful that she wasn’t playing games with his head the way everyone else seemed to be.