But I try. “Governor, you mentioned the weapon was a gift for your husband when you commissioned it. How long have you trained for the mace, Reniver?”
There, that’s a normal question, right?
“Oh, I’m no mace bearer,” Reniver explains, “but the gift is everything I could have hoped for! We’re going to take the guests by to see it as soon as supper is over. And after a toast in your honor, of course!”
“To see it?” I echo. Just where is the weapon?
“But of course you’d wish an early peek! So proud of your work! Asel?”
I jump as Reniver shouts the young man’s name, but Asel obeys, excusing himself from the horde of women.
“Father?” he answers.
“Would you show Miss Tellion where we’ve proudly displayed her work?”
Asel turns his head toward Temra first, and a delighted grin smears above his chin as he takes in my beautiful sister. Her dark hair bounces in the most perfect curls when she walks. The sun has brightened her skin to a glorious tan over the summer, and she’s a perfectly regular height at just under five and a half feet.
The governor, seeing his son’s eyes light on my sister, says, “No, this is Ziva, the magically gifted blacksmith.” He indicates me, and Asel’s face loses its delight.
I’m a behemoth at just over six feet tall. Taller than most of the boys, and Asel is no exception. My dull brown hair is flat as a board, and I wear it up and out of my face always. I never bother with makeup like most of the girls my age (what’s the point when I’d just sweat it off while I work?), and as a result, my freckles stand out in stark relief over my nose, forehead, chin, cheeks. Everywhere.
As I wait for Asel to finish his perusal, I’m not filled with shame. Only the fear that comes from being so closely examined. From being forced to interact with people. From worrying I’ll say or do something stupid. From worrying that he’ll be able to guess all my weaknesses just by looking at me.
Asel quickly composes his features. “A pleasure to meet you. Shall we?” He holds out his arm, and I think I’m supposed to take it. The color must drain from my face—touching strangers makes everything so much worse—because Temra takes my arm instead and says, “Lead on, Asel. We’ll follow.”
Bless my beautiful, wonderful sister.
But the governor says, “Actually, Miss Temra, would you accompany me to the kitchen? I simply must get your thoughts on the dinner menu for tonight.”
Temra looks to me for permission. Not permission, really, but acknowledgment that I’ll be all right on my own. I most certainly will not, but I can’t say so in front of the most powerful man in the city.
I nod as I realize just what this is.
A setup.
The governor and his husband want me to take a fancy to their son. Wouldn’t it look splendid to have one of the few people in the world possessing magic as a member of the family?
I want to gag.
Asel, having taken the hint the first time, merely steps beside me without offering an arm this time, and leads me out of the receiving hall. We traverse up a set of stairs in silence, the noises from the party growing fainter as we leave everything behind and enter into some sort of study. I note a desk made from a purple wood and books lining most of the walls. On one end of the room, a fireplace stands, empty of logs or heat at the moment. But above the mantel, atop polished metal hooks, my mace has been placed.
Displayed.
“What is this?” I shriek before I can stop myself.
“Your work, I’m told,” Asel answers.
“This mace steals the breath of surrounding enemies! It can kill without even touching an opponent, and yet it sits above the mantel as though it were a—a—decoration!”
As soon as the words are out, I remember myself and turn to Asel in a panic. He’s going to report back to his fathers, and I’ll be—
He starts laughing. Then, as though he finally finds me interesting, he turns his body toward me. “Did you think my father intended to take it into battle? Wage some war against my other father’s opposers?”
I look down at the ground, a smile surfacing on my lips, because I cannot help it. “Maybe. Or just wear it threateningly, in case anyone thought to bear ill will toward the governor.”
“I’m afraid this is only supposed to make a statement and perhaps be a great conversation starter when other politicians are visiting.”
“What statement?”
“He who bears this mace bears great wealth,” Asel says in a deep, mocking tone.
I laugh again and find the courage to raise my eyes. “So you won’t tattle on me?”
“Whatever for?”
“My outburst regarding the mace’s resting place.”
“Not at all. I do find it curious, though, that you would care where the weapon ends up. You were paid regardless, yes?”
“Yes, but…”
Asel takes a step forward, showing he’s truly interested in the answer. “But?”
“I want to make the world a safer place. My weapons are supposed to do that.”
“But not if they’re attached to a wall.”
“Exactly.”
Asel purses his lips together in thought. “If I promise to use it if anyone should break in, will that make you happy?”
“Yes, it would,” I joke back.
“Then I promise,” he says, taking another step forward.
I realize a flurry of things at once. One, I’ve been hunching again, because Asel and I are at eye level. Two, he’s much closer than I originally thought, close enough to touch. And three, what I’d been doing was maybe confused as flirting, when really all I was trying to do was survive a conversation.
He leans forward, his lips puckering.
I step back, rise to my full height. “What are you doing?”
“Making you feel better about the mace.”
Oh no. What do I do? Run for it? Or say something? Which would be less embarrassing at this point?
“No, thank you,” I say, and then I want to slap myself. What a stupid thing to say to someone trying to kiss you. But what else do you say? I haven’t ever had someone try to kiss me before. I haven’t prepared for this kind of confrontation.
“What?” he asks.
I cringe. I probably didn’t make sense the first time. “I don’t need you to make me feel better. I’m just fine.”
“Kiss me anyway,” he whispers in some sort of deep tone that I haven’t heard from him yet. He leans forward once more.
Goddesses. Why is it happening again?
I can’t say No, thank you again.
“I don’t want to,” I say instead. Is that any better? Why is it so hot in here? I feel like I can’t breathe in this dress.
“No one will ever know,” he says, following me across the room as I try to get away from him.
“I’ll know.”
At that, Asel freezes in place. His eyes shrink behind his eyelids as he scrutinizes me. As though he’s looking for just what’s wrong with me.
And I know there’s something wrong with me, but him looking at me like that isn’t helping my state of mind.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asks, confirming my thoughts. “I made you laugh twice.”