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“You think highly of yourself, Your Grace.”
“I am quite tired of thinking lowly of myself,” he muttered, and when I looked at him, he said nothing more for a moment. Then he whispered, “Did you read my letter?”
“What letter?” I pretended to be ignorant as I held my head high.
“The one open in your hand.”
My head dropped immediately, and I looked to my hands where I still clenched his letter.
He chuckled.
And I glared. “Are you laughing at me?”
He nodded. “Yes, for you have become an even worse liar.”
“Some of us cannot be as proficient as you, imp.” The words came right out of me before I had thought to stop them. My eyes widened, and I dared not look at him!
“You have become a worse liar and a better curser, I see,” he muttered.
“Forgive me.” I brushed my hair behind my ear. “That was—”
“I remember when you were all but twelve. Your sister ripped your favorite book, and your mother told you to forgive her. So you did as you were told, then marched deep into the gardens at Belclere until you got to a strong tree where you proceeded to call your sister a ninny, maggot pie, and fart from hell.”
I bit my lips to keep from laughing.
“You nearly broke your toe kicking the tree,” he said as he gave in to his laughter.
“Stop!” I begged.
“There were older marks on the tree, and I realized then that you had a cursing tree, and you used it often.”
“I know nothing about that,” I said with a smile. “A lady never uses foul language.”
“Unless the lady’s name is Aphrodite. Then she uses it all the time, just unbeknownst to her victims.”
“I am no longer speaking to you,” I said, like a child. As we reached the dressmaker, I walked inside, knowing he would not follow. But when I recognized one of the patrons inside, I turned right back around and stood beside him.
“What is the matter?” He tried to look.
“Do not!” I muttered.
“What is it, Aphrodite?”
“It’s her,” I whispered.
“Who?”
“Her!” Our faces were far too close, so I jumped back. He seemed not to be affected by proximity like I was. “Her…from the shrubbery…in the garden of the ball.”
“Truly.” He gaped. “Which one?”
“What are you doing?”
“Looking for her.”
“Why? I saw…I saw…you know what I saw.”
“Exactly. She should be more afeared of seeing you than the other way around. Though I doubt she knows you exist.”
