I have to give Noemi credit, because she doesn't back down while looking up at an orc warrior. "Because it's against the Codex of Witches," she says calmly. "Any spell that manipulates emotions must not be permanent in nature. I could lose my license for disobeying that. And any other reputable witch you visit would tell you the same thing. If you respect this woman whose heart you're trying to change, then you would stick with a reputable witch like myself."
Noemi keeps permanent spells of other kinds in the back, reserved for clients she trusts. Preservation charms. Boundary wards. Protections meant to last. Nothing that tampers with a person’s heart. The fact that she's not offering these up to him tells me that he's definitely not a regular customer.
So where did he come from?
He's silent for a long moment, his jaw tightening as he considers his options. "Fine," he says. "Which one is the one that lasts for a month?"
It takes her a long beat before she holds up a stoppered vial with glowing blue liquid in it. He gingerly takes it from her andholds it up to the light, as if inspecting it. Finally, he sighs before palming it and putting it into his breast pocket.
"How much?"
"Twenty gold pieces."
My eyes widen, because I know that most of Noemi's potions are less than three gold pieces. Twenty is a markup that's almost unheard of.
Meanwhile, his eyes narrow, like he doubts it as well, but he says nothing as he digs into his crossbody bag and pulls out a pouch. He tosses it onto the counter, and I nearly gasp at the coins inside. Noemi's eyes widen in surprise as well, but she stands her ground.
"Keep the change," he growls as he stalks past me. He stops and whirls on me, a snarl on his lips. "What are you looking at?"
Our eyes meet, and for a crazed moment, I just want to reach out and touch him, like the fire inside him needs to be quenched and soothed. Because I feel like this isn't him. Instead, I clench my fist and put it behind me, where he can't see my fingernails biting into the palm of my hand.
When I don't answer, he grunts, throws the door open, and storms out.
I fight my wince as the door slams behind him, rattling on its hinges. For a moment, neither Noemi nor I move, like we're expecting him to barge back in. I wouldn't doubt it at this point.
Finally, Noemi lets out a long breath that ends with a disbelieving chuckle. "Oh, my gods!" She puts a palm to her forehead as she staggers to the side. "Did you see him? I thought he was going to tear your head off!"
I stare at her like she's just burst fairy wings. "Wait, you…"
She starts laughing, hard, leaning heavily on the counter of her store. "I was so terrified, Lissy!"
My irritation is immediately replaced by anger. "Why the hell did you charge him twenty pieces, then? You know that was two pieces, three max!"
"You didn't see how big of an ass he was, coming in here, Lissy." She palms the counter with both hands and takes a deep breath, her laughter dissolving. "Demanding an anti-love potion like that."
"Yes, but…"
Noemi rolls her eyes as she leans over, disappearing behind the counter for a moment. "He was probably using it to force the woman he has the hots for to fall out of love and hopefully fall for him."
But if that were the case, then why wouldn't he just go for a love potion? Not to mention, I have the sense that it's someone he's close to – like he's looking out for her in his own way.
Misguided, but perhaps well-intended, especially with how conflicted he looked at the end.
I don't get the chance to dwell on it, because Noemi straightens up with another velvet-lined tray of vials. I recognize every one of them, as I use them almost daily.
"Okay," she says, giving me a knowing smirk. "Which one of these dressmaking potions brings you here today, Lissy?"
2
TORGAN
Idon't want to break my sister's heart.
I want to save it. There's a difference. I've been telling myself that for two days now, and the vial in my breast pocket presses against my chest as I tell myself again.
There's a difference.
We are at dinner in Valeforth Hall, seat of the Duke of Valeforth, and the stone here feels colder than the stone at home. Or maybe that's me. Battle they train you for. Sisters they don't.
