She smiles. “Sorry, two cherry seltzers.”
The speaker confirms our order and clicks off.
“I’ve never seen you drink seltzer,” Vincenza comments as she puts back the speaker.
“Never had it. But, it’s water, right? And it can’t… I won’t taste it if it tastes bad, right?”
“It tastes like something. You’ll find yourself missing the ability to experience a taste… hence the crushed red peppers; spice is technically distinct from taste. You’ll enjoy it, possibly.”
Maybe.
I lean back into my seat and stare at the screen. The projectors play a news reel involving a murder investigation for someone in Kolienet. He… might’ve been killed by his daughters? There’s no audio; it’s hard to tell.
I turn my head sideways, seeing other cars drive in with smoke blooming from their windows. Beyond them, children laugh on a playground while ignoring the educational flicks.
I turn my head the other way as a potent smell of cannabiswafts through the window.
Vincenza lays her hand on the edge of my blanket stack. “You wouldn’t mind sharing, would you? It’s cold and—Oh, I need to get windows for this thing.”
“Yeah,” I laugh.
I pull my legs up onto the seat and get close enough to her to share.
She briefly grabs my shoulder, only briefly. “Was your magic enjoyable today?”
I slip my head to her shoulder, stirring my tongue for anything to answer. “I felt bad using it.”
“What? You did nothing wrong to earn it.” She swallows. “You should prioritize getting a stable patron, but these littlemomentsare fair for your exploitation when they appear.”
“Moments? Do you expect these to occur more?”
“No. But my expectations rarely fit for you. How do I know this won’t be enough?” She brushes my hair with her fingers, slowly pulling together a ponytail. “You’re shockingly well able to be influenced by necromancy and pull out my connection to the Ring.”
“Vincenza, can I ask you something I asked the matron?”
“I won’t be as well able to answer as her, but you can ask.”
“Why are only some of us Ringborn?”
Her brushing turns to a circular scalp massage—which I expect is more for her than me. “When I was young, we were always told that the world was made for Ringborn. We were told that the Ring made a holy people, and it made mindless servants. ‘Consorts aren’t truly sapient,’ they said. ‘No more than a goat or a pig fakes pain can a consort fake intelligence.’ I was always reminded that I was of poor blood, mixed with consorts, and I would never be as close to the Ring as those who descend only from its chosen.
“I hated their explanation.”
I whisper, “then—then what is it?If that’s not it—“
That can’t be it. The matron said nothing close to that. I’m not—I am sapient! I clearly am! I don’t overthink so much just to be nothing!
She shudders, carefully grazing her massaging fingers lower to my cheeks. “I don’t know, Catarina. Worrying over why this is the world the Great Ring chose for us can drive you mad. Just… accept what there is, and try to be happy. The Ring won’t object to that.” Her fingers freeze just under my jaw. “You can start by enjoying these.”
She accepts our meal from a server, forcing me to sit up and hold it in my lap—with the popcorn to my right.
Oh, now this can give me just the fleeting semblance of hunger. I greedily take a handful of chips and inhale them along with their… dubiously cheese-like topping. I lack the taste to tell if it’s different fromcheesecheese, but I’m staying mildly suspicious.
I crunch a single cheeseless chip to test how attuned my taste is. Tastes like so nothing, so… poor.
“When do we get audio?” I ask.
“When I remember to tune our radio.” Vincenza wipes her butter stained hands on a rag before dialing it in.
