“Oh, so sorry,” he said in a higher tenor than I had expected from him. Though his tan complexion warmed his skin in golden tones, his energy emitted a frigid detachment, a callous frost that pierced the air around him.
“It’s fine.” I handed him the basket. “Take it.” I’d rather get rid of it. It probably wasn’t a good idea to be in debt to the king and queen anyway.
I watched the man’s fingers extend toward the little basket. And when he grabbed a hold of it, only his index and thumb were able to close. The other three digits appeared fairly dysfunctional, curved, and unable to straighten completely. Aside from that one thing, he looked healthy and capable, perhaps even handsome to some by the way the sunlight caught the angles of his long face.
With his other crippled hand, he buried them in the pile of berries, never wavering from his eye contact with me. His hand scooped and let more berries dribble into the basket. “For you.” He handed the basket back to me with a glare that looked like he was devouring me. His eyes dipped down my body, and my lip curled up with a half-lidded gaze. “Wow. Look at you. You are beautiful.”
I scrunched my face, almost amused at his attempt to flirt with me, knowing full-well he didn’t know he’d never stand a chance against Fletcher’s sexy smolder. I took two steps back when he took one forward, hand still extended toward me.
The king cleared his throat behind me. “What are you doing, Jarvy?”
When I didn’t take the basket, Jarvy brought it back to his chest, placing his other hand in his pocket.
I narrowed my eyes between him and my father.
“Giving the lovely lady some berries.” He looked back at me. “Hi. I’m Jarvy.”
I squinted my eyes, tilted my head, and grinned. “’Kay.”
“What is your name, you opalescent goddess?”
I furrowed my brows and curled my upper lip, annoyed by the theatrical language. “Etta.”
His brows furrowed. “You certainly do not look like an Etta. Are you sure?”
Great. It sounded like my identity had already been passed along. So I looked him dead in the eyes, snatched the basket from him, and handed it to a passing child who sat on a three-wheeled stool, rolling away. The kid’s eyes widened as he yelled, “Thank you!”
“Is the name too long for you to remember?” I turned my back to Jarvy, preparing to continue my journey through the kingdom when he caught my wrist and pulled me back to him with a grip tighter than I preferred.
My magic flared, spidering down my arms in rigid lines. “Get off me,” I ordered through clenched teeth. Then, the cart of ocaberries exploded into a puff of neon spores that swirled with the wind. Berry scraps rained down on us as the seller ran over from other troughs full of goods to see what had happened.
Jarvy jumped and released me. His eyes switched from the berries back to me, his turquoise eyes drilling through me.
“But,Etta, I wish to see you again.”
I pointed my finger at the cart of exploded berries. “That will be your head if youevertouch me again.”
“But—”
“That’s enough, Jarvy!” the king bellowed, violaceous magic speeding down his hand in a repetition of geometric shapes, sending Jarvy walking in the opposite direction.
I looked at the king, curious about his geometric-patterned magic rather than the spiral curves I typically saw.
He stepped close to me and said over my shoulder, “I see your magic is still unpredictable.”
A part of me wanted to deny it. He didn’t deserve to get to know me. But, at the same time, he also may hold some much-needed answers. “Why? Why does it act like this?”
He shrugged. “Your mother and I have been researching since you were born. It still remains a mystery to us.”
I growled in frustration and continued across the courtyard, under two pillars, and onto another cobblestone road that appeared to wind closer to the castle at the base of the mountain. The king and I remained quiet as we walked. More shops surrounded me, and one in particular caught my eye.
I veered to the left, away from the king, and into the bookshop without a word. When I made it through the glass doors, I turned over my shoulder to see the king settling against the wall of the shop across from where I was, chatting with someone.
I turned back to the many black shelves of books that curved around the contours of the walls. The smell of old pages and ink nestled in and made me feel at home. It was empty, except for a woman reading behind the counter with her feet casually strewn ontop the counter and her back reclined in a cushioned chair with a book cracked open between her hands.
Her canary-yellow eyes fastened on me. She smiled, scrunching the many freckles across her cheeks. In a quick movement, she took her boots off the counter, stood, and straightened her black, fingerless gloves, overalls, and crop top beneath. She had some meat on her bones that deepened the cute dimples on either side of her cheeks.
I smiled back, eyeing her glorious mane of hair. Each scarlet curl fell in the same pattern to her jaw and fluffed up in many thick layers. Ribbons of sparkles streaked throughout her hair, catching the yellow lights built into the dark ceiling.
