He smiled. "You mentioned it was your favorite."
I had? When? Racking my brain, I recalled mentioning it in passing, musing to myself, really.
"You remembered?" I blinked, surprised.
"How could I forget anything your beautiful voice says?" He handed me the little cup. "Drink that."
My fingers brushed his as I reached for the glass. Our hands had touched before, but this time . . .
This time, sparks flew up my fingers, and my shoulders shivered. We remained like that for what felt like an eternity, hands delicately brushing.
Finally, I wrapped my fingers around the cup and pulled it to my lips. Reese lowered his hand. It flexed by his side.
Curiosity gnawed through my soul, desperate to know what he was thinking.
The tent flaps parted, and Liam strode in, carrying a bottle of whiskey. He froze, eyebrows raised. "Am I interrupting something?"
"No.” Reese clipped the pouch of vials to his belt and turned away. "I was just leaving Mare to rest." He flew through the tent flaps without so much as a backward glance.
I bit my lip. It felt like a bubble rose in my breast, stealing the air from my lungs and crushing my heart.
Brushing his coat flaps back, Liam sat beside me. "Father always told me that nothing was more dangerous than a man who could cook."
I exhaled. "Is that why you became a baker?"
"Oh, come now, sister.” He popped the cork out of the bottle. "We both know that was just a ruse to fool Father."
"It is not. I've seen the bread loaves you smuggle home."
My brother laughed into his bottle. He smiled at me, and I felt myself breathe again. Sitting beside Liam, bathed in the scent of my Father's cooking, I felt my muscles relax.
The flickering lantern in the corner seemed to grow dimmer as the stars and moons faded into darkness.
Bláth burst into my tent, eyes locking onto Liam's drink. "I knew there had to be booze around here."
Liam hugged it to his side. "Get your own."
Frowning, Bláth batted her eyelashes first at Liam, and when he turned away, at me.
I slammed my elbow into Liam's side and winced when pain stabbed through my wound. "Share with the lady, you brute."
"Ugh.”Liam handed her the bottle.
"Mmm.” Bláth took a drink and wiped her mouth. "If there's one thing I miss about traveling with Reese, it's his cooking."
My hand tightened on my fork, and I felt the snaring vines of envy creeping up my throat again.
"Liam's not a bad cook," I said quickly, glancing between the two.
"Why would I cook for her?" Liam scoffed.
"Oh, I don't know. Why is she wearing your favor?" I leaned toward him, and he shrank away. "Are you wearing hers? What's that?"
I reached for his coat pocket, and he pressed a protective hand to it. "Do you hear that? Sounds like bard rabble. I should make sure they aren't robbing us." Leaping to his feet, Liam fled out the door.
Bláth giggled, leaning to look outside. She met my eye, and I watched her expectantly.
Smile faltering, Bláth knelt beside me and touched my knee. "Whatever happens, you and your brother are safe with me."
