Page 39 of House of Crimson Hearts
I stare at her, my mind racing.
So she continues, “Besides, women are far more selfless and giving lovers than any man I’ve been with.”
That makes my mouth fall open again. “You’ve been with men too?”
She nods. “Marriage isn’t a sacred duty or expectation for us. Connection is more important. Now. If I may, I need to examine your ankle again. I suspect you’ve made it worse by walking on it this afternoon.”
She nudges my skirts up and over my knee and I have to take a moment to steady myself against her touch. Her fingers are so tender and gentle as she presses and kneads my calf and foot. She slips my stocking off so that she can palpate my toes and apply pressure to my foot.
As her hands come around my heel and ankle, I wince against the pain.
“Okay, I think the issue is ligament damage. Unfortunately, that’s not a quick fix.”
“Oh no, there must be something you can do? Some magic you can give me so that I can dance for the ball?”
She folds her arms and looks at me hard. “Do you want a husband?”
“I need one.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“I want to please Mother.”
“Do you?”
I take a deep breath. This woman is quite pushy and while part of me wants to tell her to leave me alone, the other has me leaning into confession after confession. How easy she is to talk to. How easily I seem to trust her.
I sigh, “No. Actually. I’m not sure I’ve ever really wanted a husband.”
“Would you like a wife instead?”
“I… that’s not possible.”
“It is in my culture.”
“How lucky for you.”
She stands, leaves my foot and attends the back of the shop, clattering around, crushing herbs together and whispering words. She runs her hand along the back of the shop wall, and I swear the walls vibrate. There’s a shimmering white thread that releases from the brick and then she pricks her finger, a drop of blood beads on the end. She touches her fingertip to the thread and it shivers and turns the colour of claret.
She winds the thread around her wrist and tugs it until it releases from the wall, and then she drops it into the bowl.
“What… how did the house give you magic?”
“All houses are magic if they’ve been built properly. But these new manors and castles, most of them aren’t connected to the land. It’s where their power comes from. But none of the magic is activated without blood in this city. It’s actually a little different in every city in the land.”
“That’s fascinating.”
“It is,” she says. “I’d love to travel one day and visit the other cities so that I might learn their magic too. Here,” she says and hands me a glass with an odd green-coloured substance in it. The shade reminds me of those trees that still have leaves in the winter, their evergreen hearts spilled into the mug. It smells like fish though, and I gag as she holds it out to me.
“Gods, that stinks something awful,” I say, my nose wrinkling.
She laughs but pushes the glass closer.
“Fine,” I sigh and hold my nose to down the lot.
“Well done. Wasn’t that bad, was it?”
“It was vile.”
