Chapter Fourteen #2
“Snow is pretty magical,” I agreed, actively not looking at Daziel. “Especially for something that isn’t actually magic.”
We chattered until we’d drained our cups and only crumbs remained of the donuts. “My hot cocoa is gone,” I said mournfully. To no one, really.
Okay—to Daziel, whose mouth twitched. “Anyone else?” he asked, and the girls cheerfully handed over their empty mugs. Daziel gave me a slightly woebegone look, then headed back to the cocoa tent. The mugs bobbed behind him like a trail of ducklings.
Gilli leaned her head against my shoulder. She’d done her braids in loops behind her ears, and her blue velvet hat matched her coat. “You and Daziel seem cozy.”
I looked up at the pale blue sky and smiled. I felt warm and soft—cozy, one might say—in a way I wasn’t used to, making the whole world seem like a kinder place. “Yeah.”
“I noticed he held your hand while we were skating.”
“Did he?” Leah leaned forward. “I missed that.”
“Shh,” I said, despite Daziel being too far away to hear.
My cheeks blazed. My friends noticing embarrassed me, like I’d had a vulnerable underside revealed.
But I also felt gratified they thought it worth discussing; if so, maybe it had meant something.
Still, I didn’t want to make too big a deal out of this, not when Daziel might have done it absentmindedly.
Shedim might hold hands as a matter of course. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Your blush means something,” Leah teased. Her amber earrings twinkled in the sunlight, as playful as her tone.
“Has anything happened between you two yet?” Gilli asked, as though it was a foregone conclusion something would.
“Of course not.” My friends waited, clearly deeming this not enough information, so I babbled on. “We’re just roommates. He’s not interested in me.”
Leah rolled her eyes. “Okay.”
I frowned at her. “Besides, I don’t have time for romance. The work on the scrolls is ramping up, and I need to make sure Professor Altschuler is impressed enough to renew my scholarship. I irritated him a few weeks ago.”
My floormates looked unimpressed. “There’s always time for romance,” Gilli said. “But it doesn’t magically happen. You need to make a move.”
“Who even says I want something to happen?” I didn’t. Probably. Well, not if Daziel didn’t.
Leah snorted. Gilli pursed her mouth. Even Jelan, who usually avoided these conversations, couldn’t contain her amusement.
I unbuttoned my blazer, overly hot. I wouldn’t even need the warmth from a second hot cocoa. “Why do I need to be the one to make a move? He could.”
“He’s clearly obsessed with you,” Leah said. “He’s getting you and your friends cocoa at this very moment.”
“You’re his friends too.”
“Do you not like him?” Gilli sounded confused. “You spend all your time together and act like an old married couple. But if you don’t like him…”
This was such a surreal conversation. “I like him. But…he thinks of me as a friend.” Anything more than friendship was terrifying. How did one even make a move?
“Do you think of him as just a friend?” Leah asked. “You must think he’s hot. He’s objectively more attractive than any human.”
“Attraction is subjective,” I said, peeking at where Daziel still waited patiently in line.
He’d been assailed by two science students in their yellow blazers but didn’t look like he minded.
And he did look strikingly handsome. “Though fine, yes. But we live together. What if it went horribly? We’d be trapped.
” Any shift in our relationship would impact so much of my life.
Gilli shot Jelan a meaningful look. “What if it went wonderfully?”
“No.” I understood what she meant, but their situation was different. “You two still have separate rooms. Space. Daziel and I have no space.”
“What you do already have is a relationship,” Jelan said practically.
“You eat together, study, socialize. You look out for each other. You do everything anyone in a romantic relationship does except the romance.” She raised her thick brows.
“If you’re both attracted to each other, you should see if the romance is as strong as everything else you have. ”
I stared at Jelan, stunned. I’d never heard her say so many words in one go, and they resonated deeply.
I loved spending time with Daziel. My favorite part of every day was having breakfast or walking to school or unwinding on the sofa at night together.
I loved when we went out exploring, spending an afternoon poking about the city, wandering into tiny shops and trying new cafés and joking about absolutely nothing for hours.
But what if that wasn’t his favorite thing?
What if he had other things he preferred to me?
Or what if he liked everything we did, liked spending time together, but that was where it stopped?
On his side, we could be better as friends.
Because Jelan had dropped a key truth—we should try a romance if we were both attracted to each other.
“What if he doesn’t like me back?” I whispered, the darkest fear I had, the one that curled around my heart so snugly I wasn’t sure it could be dislodged. “What if he doesn’t want me?”
“Please. Is that what you’re worried about? That boy wants you,” Leah said firmly.
Gilli burst into giggles, and the rest of us started laughing too, which was how Daziel found us a minute later. He put our cocoas down. “What’d I miss?”
“Nothing,” I told him as he scooted in next to me on the bench, his body warm, lined fully up with mine, thigh to shoulder.
A sizzle of desire, of anticipation, of hope ran through me.
I wasn’t sure I believed Leah, but one thing was clear—my feelings for Daziel were far stronger than I’d realized.
And like anything under pressure, they were bound to eventually come out, on purpose or not. “Nothing at all.”
~ ~ ~
The Lyceum gave students a few days off for the Lumière Festival, though people only headed home if they lived close to the city.
Leah would be at her family’s silk farm, a two-day trip downriver; Jelan and Gilli were spending the holiday with Gilli’s parents, just an hour south.
Since it took a week to reach my village, I’d stay here at the end of the month.
Or, more accurately, go to Aunt Tirtzah’s.
The Lumière Festival had been celebrated for thousands of years in the countries edging the Long Sea.
It was one of the six new years, and the second-most popular, after the civil new year (though the trees and the harvest were also beloved).
Everyone wore yellows, oranges, and reds and lit all the lanterns and candles they owned.
I borrowed an outfit from Leah before she left—a red jumpsuit with long sleeves and a structured orange jacket. I had an orange silk ribbon from my mother, which matched nicely. I wove it into a braid crown, examining the results critically in my bedroom mirror.
I didn’t think Daziel would be so blown away by my effort he’d confess his desire, but I wouldn’t mind if he took a little notice.
I stepped into the living room. Daziel, too, had dressed for the holiday, but unlike anything I’d ever seen—at first his jacket and trousers looked white, but when he moved, they glimmered with all the colors of fire, as though woven with iridescent thread.
I pulled to a stop. “That’s a gorgeous outfit. ”
He looked pleased. His gaze pulled over mine, and I grew hot, my skin tight with awareness. He stepped forward, and I caught my breath. He ran a finger over the stitching on the jacket’s cuff. A shiver ran over me. “So is yours.”
Ducking my head, I murmured a thanks and hurried to put on my shoes.
When Daziel and I arrived at my aunt’s, I was surprised to find her alone. I thought it’d be like the luncheons, where we were mainly there to impress her political acquaintances.
“Oh,” I said, blinking. “Are we early?”
“It’s just us.” She smiled awkwardly. While we’d dressed up, she’d worn a more casual outfit than I’d ever seen, a mustard-yellow gown and an oversize beige cardigan. She wore her hair loose—a sign she didn’t plan to leave the house.
“Oh! I didn’t realize…” I trailed off, even more embarrassed now.
“Come in.” She led us to one of the less formal parlors.
Bowls of candied fruits and nuts sat on the round table between several chairs, along with a pitcher of iced tea and fresh oranges and pears.
My aunt pushed her hair behind her ear, an unusual sign of discomfort from her.
“I gave my staff the week off, so I’m afraid nothing might be any good… ”
“Thank you for having us,” Daziel said, because he clearly had better manners than me.
“Thank you,” I echoed hurriedly. “I’m sure it’ll be delicious.”
She gave us a grateful smile.
It was too early for dinner, so we munched on almonds and candied orange peels.
Aunt Tirtzah asked us about classes, and Daziel, to my surprise and amusement, answered as though he were taking the same ones as I did, filling her in on the theory we were currently struggling through in Intro to T3 and the latest group project from Household Magics.
“How is your knockball team doing?” Aunt Tirtzah asked.
Daziel brightened. “We have our first interschool game in two weeks. So far, it’s just been Humanities School games, but we won our championship, and so we’ll be playing the School of Engineering next.”
“How exciting,” Aunt Tirtzah said. “Naomi, do you enjoy the games?”
Her question struck me in the gut, leaving me quietly devastated. It’d never occurred to me to go to a game. Should I have? Had not going hurt Daziel’s feelings?
“Naomi’s very busy,” Daziel said quickly, which made me suspect it had. “She doesn’t have time to go to the games.”
“Not even the championship?” Aunt Tirtzah sounded taken aback. I felt the same, my chest pounding. I hadn’t realized Daziel had had a championship game.