“Yes, Millicent. This isn’t a one-witch show. We work as a team. That means, no stabbing people.”
Ah. So, Cage told him.I wonder how much he revealed.Did he gloss over the details, or did he share everything? His eyes give nothing away. If he knows, then he’s playing it close to the chest. Or maybe it’s nothing new for Felix to hear.
“No stabbing, and a team vote. Got it.”
“Don’t pout, princess. You’re no harmless flower. It’s like watching an alligator pout; it’s honestly unsettling.”
I kick out, nearly knocking him off his chair. His laughter bursts out of him, filling me with warmth and joy. It’s the kind of joy Arcadia and I once shared on the riverbanks in high summer. It settles in my chest like sunlight.
“My pout is cute,” I protest.
“You’re fishing for compliments, and I’m not biting.”
This time, I kick much harder. He tumbles from the chair with a dramatic yelp. Before I can gloat, his hand shoots out and grabs my ankle, and he yanks me down to the ground beside him.
I land with a laugh, breathless and smiling as the stone warms my back. The anxiety I carried earlier slips away, exhaled in laughter as I stare up at the passing clouds.
“What if I broke my ass from that fall?” I ask, playing it up dramatically. The fall didn’t hurt at all.
“You slid onto the ground. ‘Fall’ is a strong word.” Felix says, rolling his eyes. He lifts an arm, pointing upward to a cloud. “That one looks like a bunny.”
“I see a duck.”
He turns his head, angling it slightly to the left.
“Look at something one way, get one result. Look at it another way, get something entirely different. Perspective, Millicent.” He pauses, finger tracing the shape of the cloud. “It’s all just perspective. And our views don’t make either of us wrong. We’re both right.”
His words land too directly to be random. I stare up at the sky, chewing them over. Does perspective really matter in situations where risk and reward are such high costs? At least someone has to be wrong in those situations.
“You know I talked to Cage?” I whisper.
“No,” he replies gently. “I had hope that you’re strong enough to do it.”
He takes my hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. The touch is simple but grounding. After everything I’ve endured the last few days, I don’t want to leave this moment.
“Can we lay here a while?”
“For as long as you need, princess.”
That nickname pulls at something deep in me; Arcadia’s voice echoes:
As you wish, Your Highness.
I squeeze his hand in return. I don’t ask for comfort, but he gives it anyway. Arcadia would be proud of me. I’m letting a mortal touch me, and I'm enjoying his company.
I glance over at Felix. The sun catches the gold in his clothes and lights his curls like a halo. Even his eyes shine brighter in daylight; they’re alive with boyish wonder as he points out new clouds and guesses their shapes.
The warmth of the sun bakes into my skin. I welcome it. I don’t know when I drift off.
I wake, still curled beside him, the stone warm beneath us. Felix hasn’t moved, apparently joining me for a nap in the sun.
“Felix,” I whisper, gently shaking him. “Come. You should sleep in your bed.”
He stirs, mumbling as he struggles to keep his eyes open in the haze. He nods with a sleepy yawn, sitting up with bleary eyes.
I help him inside, guide him to his bed, and then slip away in silence.
On my way back to my room, I spot Kalix drifting down the hall that leads to Iris’s lab. Just like before.
