The Blood Witch (Broken Blade #2)

Chapter 30

Chapter 30

AMALIA

T his is a disaster , Amalia thought.

She frowned at the rapidly cooling tea on the table, at the teacup Vee hadn’t even touched.

This was such a stupid idea , she thought to herself, slouching over her own teacup and taking a sip. She should have known this was a stupid idea.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Of course Vee wouldn’t want to have a tea party. What in the name of the Goddess was wrong with her, thinking this was a good idea?

“So…” Vee asked, looking around at the entertaining room, clearly uncomfortable. She looked so out of place in this room, surrounded by gold baubles and intricate furniture. Another mistake, Amalia realized. She shouldn’t be hosting her in a receiving room like she was some sort of diplomat. Stupid, stupid. “What do you do for fun around here?”

This , Amalia thought miserably, looking down at the tea tray stacked with cookies and treats. At least those Vee had touched, stuffing two of the strawberry macarons in her mouth, one right after the other, the moment the tray had been set. Amalia couldn’t imagine how she kept so thin with the amount of food she ate.

“Oh, you know…” Amalia tried to sound demure, setting her teacup do wn so gently the porcelain didn’t make a single noise. “This and that…”

She glanced up, and noticing Vee’s bored expression, Amalia quickly added. “I, uh, I read. A lot. And I have been known to cross stitch, from time to time…”

Vee propped her elbow on the armrest of her couch, and as Amalia spoke, she brought her feet up onto the velvet seat next to her, tucking her legs underneath her. Amalia quickly hid her wince, swallowing the urge to chastise her for putting her shoes on the furniture. It was Amalia’s furniture, after all, wasn’t it? Who cared if her friend put her shoes on the furniture?

Resting her head on her hand, Vee gave Amalia a long, assessing look.

“That doesn’t really sound like fun,” Vee said.

No , Amalia realized. It really doesn’t, does it?

She hunched her shoulders, folding in on herself. She didn’t want to care about Vee’s feet on the furniture, didn’t want to drink tea and nibble on biscuits and talk about her cross stitch. She didn’t want to pretend.

“Truthfully,” she said in a voice so quiet she wasn’t sure Vee could even hear her. “I can’t remember the last time I had any fun…”

Vee blinked at that, leaning forward a little more.

“I’m sorry,” Amalia told her. Her body felt like it was made of lead, heavy and useless. She wanted to go back to bed. “I’m sorry, this whole thing is a disaster, isn’t it? There’s not a lot to do here in the palace. You don’t have to stay. You can go, if you want.”

But instead of leaving, Vee laughed. “Go?” she asked, smiling. “Why would I go? You can’t just tell me you haven’t had fun in ages, and then expect me not to do something about it.”

Vee sat up, putting her feet back down on the ground. “Look, you don’t have to do this sort of thing for me. The like… rich nobility, thing. We can just hang out, you know? That can be fun, spending time together.”

Amalia felt the corners of her mouth twist up in a smile. “Okay,” she said. “I’d like that, if we just hung out.”

She picked her teacup up again and frowned. It was cold. Calling a small tendril of Fire, she pushed a little heat back into the cup and took a sip. Much better . Fire had never been easy for her, but recently it hadn’t seemed to fight her like it once had.

Vee watched her, and then picked up her own cup of tea, as though determined to make an effort. Eyes on Amalia, she took a sip. Immediately, Vee’s face twisted, and to Amalia’s horror, she spat the liquid back into the cup before setting it down on the table with a look of disgust.

“I think your drink has gone off,” Vee said, voice serious. “It tastes like dirty plants.”

“That’s how it’s supposed to taste,” Amalia said in a quiet voice.

“Oh.” Vee frowned at the cup. “Well… at least the cookies are good.” She plucked another macaron from the plate and popped it into her mouth.

Amalia nodded, relieved Vee at least liked something of the spread. “Oh yes. Macarons are the cook’s specialty. He makes them fresh every morning for me. They take about two hours to set, so he has to get up at dawn to start.”

Vee froze mid chew.

“Two hours?” she asked. Pink crumbs flew out of her mouth as she spoke, and Amalia couldn’t help the small wince that crossed her face. “These cookies take two hours to make?”

“Two hours to set. I think it’s about three hours total, from start to finish.”

Vee looked horrified, her eyes darting from Amalia to the plate, and then back again. Then, finally, she swallowed.

“Well,” she said, slowly, thinking. “Best not to let any of them go to waste, then, right?”

She plucked another from the plate and stuffed it in her mouth, then grabbed the entire plate with her other hand. Opening her bag, she dumped the cookies inside.

Amalia let out a shocked laugh.

“What?” Vee asked, smiling. “Trust me, this is for the best. Can you imagine spending so long on something and it doesn’t get eaten? This way, none of them will go to waste, I promise.”

Amalia hadn’t considered that. In fact, she’d never thought about it before, never considered all the days she’d let those macarons be taken back to the kitchen untouched. Thinking about it now made it feel like there was a lead weight in her stomach.

“You should try the cucumber sandwiches,” she said, motioning toward the small triangular pieces on the table.

Vee didn’t need to be told twice. She took one from the stack and gave it a suspicious sniff. Then frowned.

“It's just… it’s just salad, is it?” she asked.

“Well, it’s… it’s cucumber,” Amalia tried to explain.

Vee set the sandwich back on the plate gently and wiped her hands on a napkin. Amalia couldn’t help but think it was probably her best impression at being polite.

“I’m not a big fan of salad,” Vee said patiently, as though speaking to a child. “Wolves prefer meat.”

“And cookies,” Amalia added with a slight smile.

Vee rolled her eyes. “Well, obviously, and cookies.” She then shot Vee a grin, reaching into her bag and popping another macaron into her open mouth.

Amalia giggled.

“So, that’s what sort of Shifter you are? A Wolf?” she asked. She sipped her tea, then frowned at it. It did taste a bit like dirt and leaves, didn’t it? For the first time, Amalia wondered whether she actually even liked tea.

Vee nodded, chewing. “Mhm,” she said, mouth full of cookie crumbs. “There’s a lot of us in the city, you know. We might even be the single biggest group of Shifters in the realm.” She licked crumbs from her fingertips.

“Could I… could I see, maybe?” Amalia asked, nervously. “Your Wolf form, I mean?”

Vee gave her a wicked smile. “Oh, you could,” she said in a teasing voice. “But I’d have to get naked first.”

“Oh,” Amalia blushed, looking down at her hands folded in her lap. Her heart hammered in her chest. “Never mind, then. I’m sorry for asking. That was rude of me.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Vee said with a shrug. She picked the tea up again as though to drink and then, giving it a long look, put it back down again. “You couldn’t have known. I’m guessing you haven’t had a lot of dealings with my kind, right?”

Amalia shook her head. “No,” she said. She shrank further in on herself. “I haven’t had a lot of dealings with anyone, truth be told.”

Vee just looked at her, head tilting to the side.

“My mother…” Amalia swallowed the lump that suddenly appeared in her throat. “My mother didn’t let me out of the palace much. And hardly anyone but our own Faction ever came to visit, or petition her for anything, so…” She let the sentence die, suddenly embarrassed by her own ignorance.

“I like your outfit,” Amalia said, looking at Vee’s clothing and desperately wanting to change the subject. She was wearing a simple long-sleeved shirt and jeans, ripped and worn with wear at the knees. It looked… cool. Comfortable and effortlessly pretty.

Just like Vee.

Vee just laughed. “My outfit?” she said, grinning. “I wouldn’t call it much of an outfit, not next to what you’re wearing.”

Amalia winced and looked down at her dress. She had dressed in one of her mother’s fanciest gowns, dressed as though she were attending an official tea party with someone of note.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“I think I need some new clothes,” she said, pulling a face. Even after supplementing her wardrobe with her mother’s clothing, she realized she owned nothing that wasn’t either a dress or a skirt. She had no pants, no simple tops like the ones Vee wore. Nothing like what the people she saw in the city were wearing.

Feeling suddenly self-conscious, Amalia looked down at all the ruffles and lace on her skirt and wished she’d chosen anything else to wear. She tugged at the fabric, as though trying to smooth the lace enough to make it less noticeable.

When Vee reached out, placing a hand over her own, Amalia froze.

“Hey,” Vee said in a low voice, and Amalia looked up at her. She had the most beautiful green eyes she’d ever seen. And her hand was warm, so warm, against Amalia’s. “I like your dresses, okay? You’re so… fancy,” she finished with a smile.

Amalia blushed and looked away.

“Thanks,” she said. “But I think I’d like to be a little less fancy, sometimes. I didn't know there were so many different types of clothing out there. So many different ways to dress. This? This is all I’ve ever known.”

“Well, I know a ton of the stores in the city,” Vee said, letting go of her hand and sitting back on the love seat. Amalia immediately wished she would hold her hand again.

Suddenly, Vee’s face lit up, and she sat straight up at attention. “Hey—do you want to go shopping?”

Amalia blinked. “What? Like…now?”

“Sure, why not? You’re not like a prisoner here, are you?” she asked.

Aren’t I? The words jumped into Amalia’s head unbidden, and she shook them away. She wasn’t a prisoner, was she? So she could leave whenever she wanted. After her last trip into the city, no one had yelled at her, no one reprimanded her. Her handmaids hadn’t even said a word about it, except to replace her bloodied shoes with new, near-identical ones.

“Yes,” Amalia declared. She sat up a little straighter, feeling suddenly very confident in this decision. Feeling brave. “Yes, let’s do it!”

The smile on Vee’s face in answer was enough to make her giddy.