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“Normally I don’t tell a person what Aphrodite picks out for them—the discovery is half of the fun—but I suppose I can bend this rule for a fellow cat-hearted person,” the Paragon said. “It’s ‘Lament-Be-Gone,’ a green tea with an earthy flavor and a touch of nuttiness, warmed by an under-note of ginger.”
I cautiously sipped the tea. It had the somewhat grassy taste a good green tea had, that, with the zing of ginger the Paragon had pointed out, was somehow soothing. The familiar, ticklish silk sensation on my elbow let me know the tea was indeed laced with magic, but the sensation washed over me, unable to stick thanks to my immunity to magic. “Thank you. It’s delicious,” I said.
“I call it Lament-Be-Gone because it warms one from the inside out and raises one’s spirits.” The Paragon trundled over to the cabinet, where Aphrodite was pawing at a particular canister of tea leaves. “But I’ve been thinking I should be calling it ‘Lost Lover,’ since Aphrodite seems to particularly offer it to those nursing a broken heart. I don’t suppose you went through a sad breakup recently?”
Chapter Seven
Chloe
I’d been in the middle of taking another sip, and the Paragon’s question caught me so off guard I inhaled some of the hot tea, burning my lungs and making me break out in a wet cough.
The Paragon had his head stuck inside the tea cabinet, so he didn’t notice, and Leila was thankfully chugging one of her lattes at the moment.
“Nope.” I wiped tea off my nose. “No heartbreak here,” I squeaked.
“Really? Because—I beg your pardon! Aphrodite, what is the meaning of this?” The Paragon shook the tea canister that Aphrodite had selected for him. “You can’t really thinkIneed this?”
Aphrodite purred and hopped out of the cabinet.
“You get back here and choose a different tea. Aphrodite!” the Paragon called.
Aphrodite ignored him and toddled over to me, leaning against my legs and purring. I crouched down—careful to hold my cup out of her reach—and scratched under her chin, trying to convey my thanks.
Noctus and I weren’t…we weren’t even a thing. Or maybe we weren’t a thing by human standards, but the bond we had from the collar was pretty intense, and leaving him was a deep loss. But the last thing I need is the Paragon picking up on my emotions and snooping when he’s already craftier than I like dealing with.
Leila tapped her fingers on her cups. “What did Aphrodite choose for you?”
“Calm the Heck Down,” the Paragon read off the container.
“Isn’t that the tea you lace with some kind of sleeping spell?”
“It’s for relaxation purposes!” the Paragon insisted. “But Aphrodite, you have deeply wounded me! I have no need tochill! I am already so chill!” The Paragon tossed the tea tin inside his cabinet and shut it with a huff.
“Are you going to grab a coffee or something?” Leila asked. “Because the clock is ticking.”
“No,” the Paragon sourly said. “I shall simply have to survive without a beverage. What about you? I thought you usually chose to patronize the Queen’s Court Café.” The Paragon eyed her Karuba drinks. “Itisyour namesake.”
Leila toasted him with one of her cups. “I got a coupon for a free drink from Kwik Trip. There’s no way I’m going to pass up that kind of deal.”
“And you have two, because?” the Paragon asked.
Leila smiled affectionately at her drinks. “Rigel also got a free drink coupon. He got it and gave it to me,” she said, casually naming her husband, the King of the Night Court. “Now, to the garden?”
“To the garden,” the Paragon grudgingly said.
He trudged over to a bookcase, browsing through the titles. “Fairy Tales, Chronicles of Narnia—ah-hah! Recipe books!” The Paragon pulled on a book, then stepped back.
Nothing happened.
The Paragon frowned, then tugged on the book again. “I adjusted it some time ago so it wouldn’t be soviolent. Since then it’s just been persnickety.” He grumbled as he yanked hard on the recipe book—a Better Homes and Gardens recipe book. He pulled twice more before something clicked in the wall, and the bookshelf was slowly pulled up, disappearing into the ceiling.
“Wow.” I clutched my mug of tea as I watched—not a single book on the shelf was disturbed. “That’s some fancy magic.”
“’Tis only a trifle—nothing complex.” The Paragon waved a hand at me, but I could tell by the extra bounce to his step that he was pleased.
Leila marched past the Paragon, leading me into the garden. We passed under a dozen wooden arches that were covered in vine-y plants and dotted with tiny, paisley-colored flowers.
The arches opened into the aforementioned garden—a swathe of brilliant green hemmed in by an orange and red brick wall with a glass ceiling that was hazy with frost.
