The place settings gleamed without a spot and Cora pulled at the sleeves of the dress Gavin picked out for her. It was dour, black, and long. The collar high. She felt like a nun in service to the Moon.
I always declared fealty to the Moon, but this is a bit further than I had wanted to take it.
Dense black curtains obscured the room. Cora looked up at the cylinder of cloth surrounding her. It was the same width as the tiny cell she had wasted away in. She examined her new imprisonment.
At least it’s interesting.
The circular table was laid with circular plates, glasses, and a lonely candelabra. The candelabra was wide, with a single candle fighting the gloom. The effect hypnotized her, and in that she could see into his mind.
Her captor counted his way into the room beyond the curtain.
The first thing she saw was the silver baton pushing the curtain open. The corners of her mouth twisted down and she set them into a smile.
The pale hand followed, with black sleeves and a ducking face.
He stood, peering not at her, but at the table. His left hand held a jewelry box.
Cora watched his eyes as they slid over the setting. They did not hold the madness she looked for. It lay all around him, wafting off like the scent of mint and death from his mouth.
He bent at the waist and examined one fork. His nose approached, almost touching it. A shudder ran down his body. His knuckles went white on the baton. A tendon flexed in his jaw.
How many will he notice?
He rose, and held the box over the table. His hand swayed with his search. “Place this somewhere outside the curtain.” He offered it to her. His eyes did not meet hers.
Cora took the box and set it in the center of her plate. “I would like to open it, if I may.”
“Very well, but open it on the other side of the curtain.” He was still staring at the fork.
“There are no candles in the room now, how shall I see?”
“Take the candle with you then.” His face was getting closer to the fork. He still had not looked at her.
Cora stood, and grasped the heavy wax with both hands. They did not touch around the circumference of the fat candle. She lifted, and it popped away with a loud sound. She moved one hand beneath and grabbed the box with the other. Having no hands to move the curtain, she backed out of the drapes.
She set the candle down on the desk with a thunk. Cora turned, checking that Gavin was obscured, before making a face. A blue light flared from above the tube of cloth. She shook her head in wonder.
He was always so impractical.
She opened the box. There it was. Asymmetrical broken glass. A blue shard of shattered chandelier. She put it on and picked up the candle, making her way back into the dueling ground.
Gavin had a tinker’s light jar in one hand and a tape measure in the other. She set the candle down as he fumbled with the floppy tape. The baton was nowhere to be seen, until he bent over and she saw it dangling from a loop between his shoulder blades.
How can he even reach it there?
“I asked them specifically to use a sliding rule to set this table. Did they not use the sliding rule? They said they had one for round edges.” His voice had slipped into a high nasal whine Cora recognized from tutoring with him.
Cora sat and said in a cheerful voice, “Thank you very much for returning this necklace.” She slid a hand across the table. “It is dear to me.”
“It’s crooked.” He adjusted his fork. He did not look up.
“I know! I broke it.” She smiled.
“Why did you keep something broken?” He adjusted the fork again and moved the tinker’s jar to his pocket.
Cora’s gaze never left his face. “The shards of black ice on your baton are broken.”
He stood up. The tape measure lay across the table. “They’re not broken. They have been reshaped. They are all exactly the same.”
“My shard has been reshaped into a necklace.”
He picked up the tape measure and sat down. “The artisans of Terndowns could have done a better job. I stared at it for an hour. It’s crooked.”
“Do you not like crooked things? I do.”
“We will be eating beet carpaccio with goat cheese mousse.” He met her eye for the first time.
“Circular.” She raised her eyebrows once. “Good choice.”
“It hadn’t occurred to me.”
“No, no. That would be an odd thing to fascinate.”
His tone shifted, and he almost sounded like himself again. “Is Riley still alive?”
She propped one hand under her chin. “My last recollection of her is not that of a corpse. However, you know what information I have since.”
“That’s not entirely true. We both know how perceptive you are.”
“Do you think me perceptive? That’s a high compliment from you.”
“I studied with you for three years.” The sound of the door interrupted him from continuing.
Soft soles on stone. The maids entered from each side of the curtain, sweeping in. They stopped behind each diner and Cora could see the one behind Gavin counting down on her fingers together. The plates hit the chargers on precisely the same moment.
It was a single slice of beet centered in the silver plate. There was a circle of white frothy cheese set in the center of the red slice. No garnish disrupted the effect.
Gavin picked up his fork with his left hand and the knife with his right. He set them back down. “Shall we pray first?”
Her eyes flew to his. “Indulging in religion these days? I would pray.”
He reached across the table with both hands, palms up. She pressed her lips together and slid her hands on top of his. There were no calluses on either pair. His fingers felt bony and tense.
“We thank the Sun for the light it gives us.” She knew the words. Everyone did. As the words tumbled from her mouth, she could feel his heartbeat through his thin skin.
“We thank the Moon for the light it steals.” Cora twitched her fingers to the rhythm of his heart.
“Blessed be the water of the Sea and the river ways.”
The Bandinette running with blood and rubble from the White Bridge.
“Blessed be the trees of the Forest and the homes we make.”
Switforst burning and running with crazed victims.
“Blessed be the stone of the Mountain and the walls we raise.”
Nikolai bursting our way out of the cave.
“Blessed be the grain of the Field and the bread we bake.”
Poor Tawn.
He dropped her hands and picked up his fork and knife again. He did not make a move towards the beet. Gavin stared at it. He placed his cutlery down again. “Apologies.” He reached into his pocket and retrieved a small silver tin. He covered his face with his napkin and she could hear him spitting the mint leaves out. The smell of wet mint was not covered.
Cora had not touched her silver. She watched him put his napkin back into his lap. He picked up the cutlery.
Cora said, “Have you been eating well?”
Gavin stared at the beet.
“I’m just so busy.”