The Blood Spell (Ravenspire, #4)(82)

“Yours are cold,” he said and tried to switch plates with her.

“I like them cold.” She shoved his plate back in front of him and took a bite. They were good. Nearly as good as Grand-mère’s, which was no small feat seeing as how Grand-mère used her wand to transfigure the ingredients into cake, and Blue was stuck with a bowl and a spoon for the same task.

They ate in companionable silence for a few moments, and the fizzy feeling in Blue’s veins settled into a warm glow.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs as they finished, and Blue hastily checked that the skillet was still hot. Dinah and Jacinthe were both ill-tempered in the mornings when they were hungry.

“Time to go,” Kellan said as he rinsed off the dishes they’d used.

“Go where?” Dinah asked from the doorway. “Are you leaving us already, Prince Kellan? We haven’t even had a chance to say hello. Or perhaps your mother has told you there’s no need to be courteous to us anymore given our current financial situation.”

Dinah’s words sounded defeated, but her expression was lit with the same kind of vicious fervor that had sent Blue down into the root cellar hunting for her mother’s old recipes.

Kellan met Dinah’s eyes, his voice quiet. “A person’s wealth doesn’t dictate how much courtesy they’re owed. A person’s treatment of others, however, does.”

Dinah moved to sit at the table. “Where is my breakfast, Blue?”

“In the batter bowl,” Kellan said before Blue could turn toward the stove. “The skillet is hot. I just flipped my own cakes and can testify that it is remarkably easy to do. I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it. Come on, Blue.”

“Where are you taking her?” Dinah demanded. “There’s work to be done. A ball to prepare for. Maybe we aren’t in the running for the betrothal anymore, but we still have appearances to keep up, and Blue is needed to help get my daughters’ gowns ready.”

“Blue and I are going out.” Kellan held Dinah’s gaze. “We’ll be gone most of the day, so you’ll need to see to the gowns yourself. I’m sure, just like flipping cakes in a skillet, it’s a skill you’ll easily acquire.”

Kellan offered his arm to Blue. “Shall we get started? It’s going to be a long day.”

Blue untied Papa’s apron and hung it on its hook. Then she scooped up Pepperell, took Kellan’s arm, and walked out of the house. When they reached the porch, she said, “I’m going to leave Pepperell with Grand-mère today. I don’t trust Dinah with him.”

Kellan followed her down the steps and through the garden. Flowers unfurled for her, vines curling toward her skin as she passed, and Kellan laughed. “It never gets old.”

“What doesn’t get old?”

“Seeing how plants respond to you. It’s like they know you’re a friend who understands them. They want you to choose them for your next potion.”

As this was precisely what happened with Blue’s magic, she gave Kellan a long side-eye. “That’s some pretty imaginative thinking on your part, Prince.”

He grinned. “We’ve known each other since we were toddlers, Blue.” His voice lowered. “Since before you knew you had to hide your magic.”

Her eyes widened, and she shot a quick glance at the house, though they were too far from it now for anyone to overhear them.

“Don’t worry. Magic was outlawed because of the wraith. Because it was easier to say all of it was bad than to try to figure out where the line stood between harmless magic and someone who could turn their magic into something deadly. I know your magic is harmless. More than that, I know that you are the kind of person who’d rather die than cause someone else harm.”

“You just keep surprising me,” she said as Pepperell batted at a butterfly that had circled Blue’s hair.

“You keep surprising me too,” he said quietly as he lifted a curtain of vines out of the way and then followed her into the apple orchard.

“How?”

He took his time answering. The crash of the sea came closer, and the buzzing of bees flitting from one thing to the next filled the morning air. Blue drew in a deep breath, savoring the sweetness of the apple trees, the tang of sea salt, and the rich soil beneath her. They were nearly to Grand-mère’s house, when Kellan said, “I thought you only cared about rules. About getting people in trouble if they didn’t see the world in absolutes. I thought you believed you knew all the answers and that you were better than other people.”

“Ouch.”

He ran a comforting hand down her arm, tangled his fingers briefly with hers, and then pulled away. “But now I know that you’re passionate about justice, you’re willing to work hard to help anyone who needs it, and you care deeply about what really matters. Maybe we’ve come at life from different perspectives, but at the core, we’re very similar. We love deeply, we fight for those we love, and we put ourselves at risk if that’s what it takes to protect others.”

She absorbed his words, letting them linger and take root as they walked up the path to Grand-mère’s cottage, where the older woman was already out on her porch, a mug of hot chicory in her hands.

“I’m glad we’re friends,” Blue finally said, though her heart wanted so much more.