A brittle silence followed. Briar’s mind reeled. He hoped never to get on Linden’s bad side but had come here spoiling for an argument. Only now he felt terrible. Linden’s affection for him flew in the face of his parents’ wishes, and he’d just finished defending the legitimacy of their relationship.
He knocked on the door. “Sorry to interrupt.”
Linden jumped. He’d been standing in front of a crackling fire, a cauldron brewing over it. He paled. “You overheard again.”
“Yeah. I get it. ‘Peasant fucker’ isn’t likely to sweeten your resume.”
“You must know I don’t think of you that way!” he protested.
“No, of course not.” Briar frowned. He’d come for a reason, but he was losing sight of it. In light of his parents’ reactions, Linden’s big announcement was probably intended to be romantic. Briar had been furious with Celyn for hiding their relationship out of shame, yet he was still angry with Linden for doing the opposite. The irony didn’t evade him. Whatever Briar planned to say, he tempered it. “I saw Alakagram.”
Linden beamed. “I hoped it might be a surprise, given you’ve had a difficult few days. And that business with the alderman.”
Briar didn’t want to talk about Rowan. “It was a surprise! A nice one, but, maybe next time, a little less surprise would be… good?”
His face fell. “Oh?”
“Not that I don’t appreciate it! It’s very sweet. It’s just, I didn’t know we were going public, and my phone blew up, and I wish I’d had something to cover the dark circles under my eyes in that photo because I look seriously rough—”
“Ah,” Linden said. “Ah, I hadn’t thought.”
“I do really appreciate it!”
Linden took a seat on the lounge. “Yes, yes, of course. Forgive me, I should have warned you. I forget you aren’t accustomed to this.”
“This? Relationships?”
“Fame.”
Briar wasn’t sure it was the fame that bothered him. But he also wasn’t sure anymore which parthadbothered him, so he sat next to Linden and opened his phone to the Alakagram post again. Linden eyed him curiously.
“Thought I looked cute, huh?” Briar said.
“You did. Do.”
“And what’s this big announcement?”
“Our summer line, of course. I think we should hold a press release—a party of sorts. It would be a brilliant opportunity to promote our collaboration, not to mention wear the first garment you made for me. What do you think?”
Briar gaped. “When?”
“Soon, I thought. The beginning of February, to usher in spring.”
It sounded wonderful, exciting. It also sounded like a lot of work. The familiar scent of the potion brewing in the cauldron reminded him that these events would affect him differently now. “I’ll take any excuse to party,” he said. “Provided I’m, uh, still standing.”
Linden took his hand and squeezed. “Yes, your health is my priority above all else. That is why I’m applying all my focus to researching a cure, and I think I’ve made progress. You’ve inspired me to explore other avenues, and I may be onto something.”
“I have? Maybe I can help.”
“I appreciate the offer, but you’re not well. Besides, I believe this is something I must do on my own. I promised I would find this for you. I intend to keep that promise. Beyond that…”
Briar thought he saw a crack in Linden’s facade. His distant expression belied an unidentified yearning, some passion he normally protected.
“You can tell me,” Briar said.
Linden’s answering smile flickered. “The world views all my accomplishments through the lens of those previous. Nearly every week, some tabloid runs a story about my lost talents, and the frivolous waste of my mind on fashion.”
“But you love designing.”
