Chapter 7 #2
Rhea wrapped her hands around her head and dug her fingers into her braided hair, tugging out what appeared to be a silver hair pin with an opulent stone wedged into it, removing it parallel to the length of the braid.
“Boys never think to look in our hair.” She handed the pin over to Suzumi, who inspected the item with reverence.
“They looked through all my pockets, patted me down, checked every crevice of my body, but not my hair.”
Suzumi laughed, and it sounded half-disbelieving, half-manic. She rested her eyes a moment, squeezing the hair pin between paled knuckles. Eventually, she returned to the world and held the pin back out for Rhea to take. “It’s yours.”
Rhea shook her head, eyes wide. “What? Zumi, no, I—I can’t. Mom left it—”
“—to her daughters,” Suzumi finished for her, eyes soft. Her smile widened. “Take it,” she instructed. “After all, you did just take a beating to get it back.”
Rhea chuckled, and Draven—though as impressed as he was that Rhea never wavered in her resolve against the group of boys—took the lightness as his opportunity to excuse himself.
“Whatever that is,” he started, already backing away.
“I’m glad it’s yours again. Seems like it means a lot to you both.
” He slid his eyes to Rhea and gave her a very, very pointed look.
“But try not to get into that kind of trouble again, alright? There might not be a handsome knight to save you next time.” His smile was intentionally taunting.
“I didn’t need saving, and you are no knight,” Rhea grumbled through a pouted lip, folding her arms and jerking her chin away from him.
Draven laughed before turning on his heels to head off in the opposite direction. He made it all of two steps.
“Wait,” Suzumi called out. She jogged a few steps to reach his side, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder, despite Draven being a few inches taller.
It was the first time Draven really got to observe her up close.
When he met her at the bookstore, she had been across the room the entire time.
She certainly never got as close to him as her sister had.
But now, looking at her with such little distance between them, he could make out more than just her general features; he could see the details composing her.
Her eyes—already striking in their lightened shade of chestnut and amber—contained flecks of green weaving through the honey-like cracks.
Her long yet slender nose, rounded at the tip, was sprinkled with nearly imperceptible freckles.
There was also a small scar marring the edge of her left eyebrow. Probably from a fall, Draven guessed.
For whatever gods-forsaken reason, Draven felt his cheeks flush as he stared at her. She was undeniably pretty. The sort of pretty Draven noticed people wanted to preserve. It reminded him somewhat of an intricate crystalline snowflake—it was the sum of her many parts that made her sparkle.
For perhaps the first time in his life, he was thankful to have some of the training he’d received over the years to mask his emotions, thus preventing Suzumi from catching the odd notes now carrying the tune of his heartbeat.
Draven cleared his throat. “Yes?”
“We owe you dinner.”
He blinked, not bothering to hide his confusion. “What?”
“Dinner. You know—food, drinks, merry conversation. Have you heard of such a thing?”
Draven frowned at her sarcasm. “Yes, I’m quite familiar with the concept.” Though, their experiences with it were probably two very different things. “What I’m unsure of is why you are somehow under the impression you owe me one.”
“Because you saved Rhea,” she answered with a shrug.
“For the last time,” Rhea protested, stomping her foot. “He did not save me. I had it under control. If the big ogre was going to use his magic, then I was—”
“—Alright,” Suzumi shot back, cutting her off and throwing Rhea a sharp look. She reset her gaze onto him. “You helped Rhea. In the Brooksley household, our father has a rule: all good deeds must be celebrated with a dinner.”
Draven arched a brow at that, a few retorts waiting on the tip of his tongue.
Still, he swallowed them down, ultimately deciding having a sharp tongue probably wasn’t the best foot to lead with.
“I can’t. My mother, she…” he trailed off, thinking how to best explain.
“My mother wasn’t feeling well this morning, so I should probably get back to her. ”
Suzumi furrowed her brows. “She’s sick?”
“Just under the weather.”
She hummed, pinching her chin between her fingers.
“Well then,” she chirped, dropping her hand from her face and wrapping it around Draven’s wrist instead.
He flushed at the contact. “All the more reason to come with us. We’ll boil some broth and send it back with you.
That way, we get to say thank you, and you don’t go back to your mother empty-handed. Win, win.”
Draven hesitated, considering his options. Yet he wasn’t granted a moment of thought before Rhea was shoving him forward while Suzumi tugged him behind her.
It seemed he was going whether he liked it or not.