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“I’m quite adept at flattery.”
She couldn’t help but be annoyed. He sounded so cocky and sure of himself, it nettled and made her want to put him in his place. “And I am immune to flattery of all kinds.”
He leaned a little closer, forcing her to shift away. “Are you?”
She focused on Rig and Medda, whispering back and forth as they worked. They seemed happy, and it warmed her heart and a brought a smile to her mouth.
“Perhaps you are not as immune as you claim.”
He’d misunderstood her expression, thinking it for him and not the children. She pretended to smooth wrinkles from her borrowed dress.
“I suppose that could be true,” she confessed, “but my will is strong, and I won’t be easily enraptured.”
A rumble of laughter answered her bold statement. “Enraptured? Really?”
She frowned at him. “No,” she said. “I am not enraptured. You might as well quit trying because it won’t get you anywhere. Like I said, your actions mean more than pretty words that come today and are forgotten tomorrow.”
Kora splayed a hand against his chest. “Aw, that stings.” He appeared anything but pained, however, with his hooded, lazy expression that hinted of some secret humor.
She suppressed a sigh and turned her attention away again. He thought they were bantering, but there was more truth for her part than wit. She wished Jael were here instead.
The realization made her flush a bit. Why should she prefer one stranger over the other? She didn’t know either of them. But at least Jael had made it a point to make himself useful, whereas Kora...he hadn’t yet proved he cared for anyone other than himself.
It made her wonder where Jael was and why he’d not made an appearance yet this morning.
Another chuckle rumbled from Kora, and her blush deepened. Again, he misinterpreted her expression and thought he was getting to her. Which he was, but not in the way he intended.
She needed to steer the conversation to safer grounds. “So what do you do here? Your brother is Runemaster, I believe he called it, but what are you?”
He sighed as if disappointed by the change of topic. “Unfortunately, I do nothing here, dear girl. I am to be the Minister of Goblinborn Affairs when my father decides I’m ready. For now, I am to assist the current Minister and learn the ‘tools of the trade,’ so to speak.”
“Goblinborn Affairs?” She frowned and studied his profile. Kora’s expression had grown guarded, closed off. It was, perhaps, the most honest side of him she had seen so far. She’d touched a nerve. “You mean, you’re supposed to be taking care of the children?”
His expression flickered as she drove deeper into that nerve she’d exposed. “Yes. As you’ve seen, the goblinborn require more handling than normal younglings. It’s harder for them to learn, they struggle to stick to a task…and those abominable gifts of theirs. They’re always setting things on fire and causing stuff to disappear and floating around the room like little devils.”
She furrowed her brow and tried to absorb what he told her. “I guess I don’t understand why they’re born the way they are. Why are they different? Why don’t they grow up? Why do they have magic that other children don’t—”
“Stones, slow down. I can’t keep up with that curious brain of yours.” He cast a smile her way. “I can’t answer all your questions—the why part, anyway. Some children are just born different. About one in three, by my calculation. And as to their gifts? They’ve speculated that the goblinborn are more in tune to the Bifrost than the rest of us. They make good runekeepers, actually, when you keep them on task. Many of them have a talent for finding things or knowing things. It can be helpful. But some of their gifts are just destructive. That’s why we have the Ministry to help take care of them. They need more schooling and training than the other little dears.”
The way he said little dears didn’t seem complimentary.
“They can’t help being born this way,” she murmured. She watched Medda toddle by waving both arms around her head as she spun in lopsided circles. At any moment, the child was sure to fall or careen into someone.
“I’m not saying they’re to blame.”
“Then what are you saying?”
His mouth pulled down. He clearly found her questions annoying, but she truly wanted to understand. “I just don’t want to be the one responsible for them. Children are exhausting, and I hate meetings. The Minister has to attend so many meetings.” He gave an exaggerated shudder as if he couldn’t think of anything worse in life than meetings. “These little angels will one day be my responsibility, unless I can wheedle my way out.”
“You don’t like children?”
He must have heard the disapproval in her tone, for he shifted to face her head on, his eyes darkened in a way that made her uneasy. “It’s nothing to do with the goblinborn,” he said, his voice cool. “They’re darlings, I’m sure, but I don’t have the gift for that sort of thing. Look at me: do I seem the fatherly type to you?”
“No.” The answer came with a bite to it.
He smirked. “No indeed. I assure you; I am quite unmarried and childless and available.”
Her lips pulled into a deeper frown. “But you can learn as well as the next man. Just because we are not inclined to something does not mean we shouldn’t attempt to change, for the good of those around us.”
