Out … two … three … four …
She kept going. The tapping did not change. It held its pace, steady andsure, and she counted along until her breathing slowed to meet it and the tightness in her chest began to ease.
When she could breathe properly again, the first thing she felt was foolish. There was nothing to panic about. She had everything under control. It was not, as Lady Rivenna had so calmly pointed out, such a terrible thing to use a different honey light, and she would simply rearrange her schedule to make sure the petit fours were completed before anything else. Two of the pixies, she noted with a gratitude that made her want to cry, were across the kitchen wrestling with the enchanted quill as they attempted to make changes to her list.
The second thing she felt was mortified, because Kazrian was standing right there. Despite the fact that he was wholly absorbed in that ridiculous carving, there was a chance he had noticed the way her breathing had gone ragged and her body had gone still, and the thought of him thinking she could not manage this—the thought of him carrying that observation back to his grandmother—made her want to crawl into the pantry and never emerge. Though in all honesty, the world really did vanish for Kazrian when he was unraveling a problem. It was entirely possible he had forgotten she was in the room at all.
She pressed her palms to the worktable surface once more and took a final steadying breath.
“I can help,” Kazrian said quietly, “should you need it. Simply tell me what you require.”
Lucie froze. His arms were still folded. His eyes were still on the carving, which now readPotioinstead ofPotion 245. He appeared for all the world to be focused on what was before him.
And yet …
And yet.
Her mind went back to the tapping, the slow, even, perfectly measured tapping, and suddenly she knew it had not been absent-minded at all. He had been paying attention the entire time. He had been doing itfor her.
Something hot and defensive rose in her chest. She pushed away from the table, shaking her head, her pulse already starting to climb again. “I know what you are thinking.”
He looked up at her, a small crease between his brows. “You do?”
“You think that I am … that I’m fragile. That I?—”
He straightened. “That is definitely not what I’m thinking.”
“That I cannot manage all the tasks your grandmother has given me.”
“Lucie, that is the farthest thing from my?—”
She paced away from him. “I am capable.”
“I know you are.”
She turned and paced back. “I can manage all of this. I can. I am very good at managing.”
“I know you are.”
She kept moving, her arms tight across her chest, embarrassed and annoyed at herself and unable to stop. “What happened before, when—when I was younger and—” She broke off. Shut her eyes, exhaled. “It happened once. I was overwhelmed, and you helped, and I was grateful. But that will not happen here. I know how to manage it when my mind starts to … scatter.”
His gaze moved briefly to the chain at her neck, then back up. “I know.”
With a sharp huff she tucked the ring beneath the neckline of her dress, out of sight. Which was ridiculous because he had already seen it, and he had already worked out—the way he worked out everything—that it was the thing she did to steady herself. Of course he had worked it out. He was the one who had put something in her hands the first time.
Count the edges. Can you tell me how many there are?
“Lucie.” His voice was steady and careful. “You are the right person for this place. I know that. My grandmother knows it. It is merely …” He spread his hands, palms up. “A busy time. And the magical quirks I cannot seem to fix are surely not helping. But if there is something else I can do, simply tell me. That is all.”
“Well, you—” She pressed her lips together and exhaled through her nose. The heat in her face was terrible, and the way his hair was standing up oddly on one side was the most ridiculously endearing thing. “You should perhaps return home and clean up, as your grandmother suggested. You might frighten away the patrons, if one of them happens to catch a glimpse of you in your current state.”
A smile stretched his lips. “Well, we certainly cannot have that.” He glanced down at the worktable. “Ah. It appears thePotion 245is gone. For now, at least.” He straightened fully. “I shall go home and make myself presentable, and then I shall return this afternoon. I heard the pantrycupboard singing again last night, and someone ought to have a word with it.”
Lucie nodded, grateful beyond measure that he had taken her lead and steered the subject in a different direction. “Thank you. I shall … see you later, then.”
Without waiting for him to answer, she turned and walked briskly into the pantry. She did not need anything from it. That was entirely beside the point. She busied herself straightening jars that did not need straightening and waited.
His footsteps crossed the kitchen. The rustle of his coat. The back door opening and closing.
