Page 70 of Jeweler to the Blessed
This time, when I pushed against his arm, he let go. Stepping back, he stretched his neck in consideration. “You spoke with Alaric?”
“I just want to know if the tonic has been taken care of. Answer me. Don’t wield whatever leverage you think you have.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s taken care of.”
“So, you lied to me?”
“I had an agreement with Alaric, not with you.”
I leaned into his space. “They were for the same thing!”
His lip curled. The appearance of his smirk told me I was not going to like what came out of his mouth next. “They were not. He asked for a tonic to be delivered to an address. You asked for an herb. Very different.”
My hands curled into fists, the nails piercing the inside of my palm in my frustration. “You?—”
He folded his arms across his chest. “What, Chaos? I knew what they were for? You see, I didn’t. I knew what Alaric’s was for. He trusted me with that information. You did not.”
“But you … My mother … the Oldwood.”
I was so mad I couldn’t string a complete sentence together. I didn’t need to. Hart knew what he did and seemed to have no problem acknowledging it.
“I made a gamble that, as with everything else, Alaric left a lot of information out for all of us. But your mother wasn’t in danger, whether you took my deal or not.”
I hoped my glare expressed how full of shit I thought he was. “You’re an asshole.”
He shrugged, unwilling to deny it. “It could have been for you.”
It was my turn to glare. “Look at me. Why would I need it?”
He arched a brow. I knew from the look that I’d asked the wrong question. And as much as I wanted to blame Alaric again for leaving me so unprepared, I knew my emotions were getting the best of me with Hart.
“The herb has … other uses. I thought you were aware of that.”
It was too late now to pretend I knew otherwise. “What other uses?”
“It is a powerful stimulant, enhancing emotions, feelings, abilities …”
“Why would I want to feel more in this Siblings-cursed city?”
His piercing gaze held mine for another beat, debating something. He ran a hand through his hair as he shared a fact that quenched my need for information like water in the desert did thirst. “Your uncle used it to avoid the king’s calming influence. He drank it with his tea.”
My mouth hung open in disbelief.
“So you could imagine”—he gave me a significant look—“why I thought you might do the same.”
Of course. This was why he was unsurprised that the king’s calm didn’t affect me at the Cornucopia. This misstep, I laid squarely at Alaric’s feet. Again, he chose not to tell me. He knew I didn’t need it, but why not explain what he knew?
I turned to walk away. This was too much. Had it only beenhours ago that I wondered if Hart was like me? I thought maybe I’d found someone who could explain why I was the way I was.
The man in question slid into my path. “Absolutely not, Chaos. We are not done.”
“Come with me, or don’t; I don’t care. I’m going to see my parents.”
He lifted a hand to gesture me forward. “Fine.”
“You’re going with me?”
Anger still surged in the depths of his gaze. He let out a breath. “I’m not letting you continue to traipse through a city trying to kill you on your own. I can’t begin to tell you how stupid it was for you to walk into Forest’s Edge. Now, let’s get going, shall we? Before anyone notices your absence.”
