Page 28 of The Dagger and the Flame
He winked at her. ‘I have that effect on people.’
She was too flustered to think of a reply, so she stood stockstill as he carefully pinned the tape to the collar of her sweater, his eyes narrowed in concentration. He was so close, she caught a whiff of his cologne, a distracting mix of sandalwood and vanilla. It made her think of Lorenzo, who always smelled faintly of sunshine and salt. She frowned. For all he knew, she could be dead.
‘Are you all right?’ said Theo.
She had stiffened again. ‘I’m fine. I just don’t want you to prick me.’
He chuckled as he knelt at her feet, running his fingers along the tape. Sera looked down at him, marvelling at the moon-silver glint of his hair. She wondered how someone not much older than her had managed to obtain such an important role at House Armand.
‘Where did you come from, Theo?’
‘You mean before my impressive lunge from the shadows?’
‘Well, I assume you weren’t born in a wardrobe.’
‘I grew up near the Pinetops, the low mountains in north Valterre.’ A pause, as if he was considering whether to say more.
‘That’s not far from Halbracht.’ Sera recalled the maps on her bedroom walls. ‘Just like the Versini brothers.’
‘No.’ The word came quick and crisp. ‘I’m not at all like the Versini brothers, and that’s fine by me.’ He swallowed the hardness in his voice and went on. ‘My father was the Shadowsmith at House Armand before me.’ He paused to press the tape against her ankle, sending a shiver dancing up her leg. ‘I spent most of my childhood charging through these hallways, breaking every precious vase in sight. Not exactly the most reliable apprentice.’
Sera nurtured a smile, thinking of the first time she had helped Mama bottle Shade, only to smash an entire box of vials.
‘But Papa was patient,’ said Theo. ‘He taught me everything I know. He passed just over a year ago. They said his heart gave out, but sometimes I wonder if the Shade had seeped into it by the end.’ He cleared his throat, like he was angry at himself for saying that. ‘Anyway, I had learned enough by then to stay on.’
‘I’m sorry about your father,’ said Sera.
‘So am I.’ Theo pulled back, looking up at her again. ‘You’re shorter than I expected.’
‘Won’t that make me a better thief?’
‘Depends how limber you are.’
She pulled a face. ‘I’m a lot better on a horse.’
‘None of those in here, I’m afraid.’
‘Maybe you could make one for me,’ she suggested.
He pretended to consider it. ‘You’re high maintenance for a farmgirl.’ At her look of mock offence, he laughed. The melody of it was so pleasant, she couldn’t help but join in.
He stood up to measure the width of her shoulders, chewing on his lip as he adjusted the tape, making another silent calculation in his head. Then his gaze fell on the golden teardrop at her throat. He gently pressed a finger to it. ‘This is pretty,’ he murmured. ‘Did you make it?’
She shook her head. ‘My mother made it for me.’
‘It catches the light beautifully,’ he said, turning the bead in his fingers. ‘What’s inside it?’
She shrugged, embarrassed not to know the answer, to have never asked. ‘Um. A mother’s love?’
‘Powerful stuff.’ He let go of the necklace. ‘Right, I think I’ve got everything I need.’
He went to the wall of cloaks and trailed his hand along them, until he came to one hanging near the end. Sera marvelled at his sureness. To her, every single cloak looked exactly the same.
She moved in front of the mirror, while he cast the cloak over her shoulders. It fell with a flutter, the material so light she barely noticed she was wearing it at all. ‘This is one of my newer designs,’ he said, looking at her in the mirror. ‘It’s lighter. It moves with the wearer, instead of catching between their legs. We’ve had some trouble with that before.’
His fingers moved, brushing against her necklace as he fastened the cloak. His eyes met hers and she looked away. He reached behind her to pull up her hood, and she caught another whiff of that heady cologne. She wondered what she smelled like to him. Dog fur and anxiety, probably.
‘Do you feel that?’ he said, in a low voice.
