never be so kind you forget to be clever
Flora leans one hip against the counter, bracing her palms against the cool wood as the kettle hums softly behind Ronin. "I’m fine," she says, and this time the words don’t wobble. Not because they’re entirely true, but because they’ve been rehearsed in her head enough times to come out smooth. Her aqua gaze lifts to meet his briefly, softened by his whisper, by the flicker of something haunted in his expression that she doesn’t need explained. "I had a rose ready. I planned it all out, sent letters before I went to Stormbreak so that Hadama could prick me as soon as I came back. And—" She gestures vaguely around the boat, toward the quiet water beyond the window. "We didn't destroy a single houseboat in the process, I might add." Her smile tugs at the corner of her mouth, before fading at his next question.
"I didn’t say anything at the meeting because I didn’t want it to sway the vote," she says softly, folding her arms over her stomach like it’ll hold her together. "But when Dahlia gave me the blood, she said I couldn’t benefit from it." She doesn’t need to explain what that means—Ronin's smart enough to make the jump—but still, she nods toward the open window, toward the streets that wind back to the Hanged Man and her house beyond. "So now that we’ve decided to protect Haulani, that means I can’t stay there. The protection magic can’t cover me, or else I’m violating the deal."
The words taste bitter, and she swallows hard, twisting one of her rings until it presses too tightly. "So yeah," she adds, a little too flippantly. "It was either a shack on the beach, or a houseboat."w
Her voice goes quieter as she looks past him, toward the far side of the kitchen where the morning light touches the edges of the countertop. "Jack left me a few weeks ago. Said I was making Torchline into a prison. That he didn’t feel safe around me anymore." The words drop like stones, flat and unadorned, and she doesn’t offer any defense for them. Just a shrug, like maybe if she keeps it casual it won’t split her in half.
"I didn’t say anything at the meeting because I didn’t want it to sway the vote," she says softly, folding her arms over her stomach like it’ll hold her together. "But when Dahlia gave me the blood, she said I couldn’t benefit from it." She doesn’t need to explain what that means—Ronin's smart enough to make the jump—but still, she nods toward the open window, toward the streets that wind back to the Hanged Man and her house beyond. "So now that we’ve decided to protect Haulani, that means I can’t stay there. The protection magic can’t cover me, or else I’m violating the deal."
The words taste bitter, and she swallows hard, twisting one of her rings until it presses too tightly. "So yeah," she adds, a little too flippantly. "It was either a shack on the beach, or a houseboat."w
Her voice goes quieter as she looks past him, toward the far side of the kitchen where the morning light touches the edges of the countertop. "Jack left me a few weeks ago. Said I was making Torchline into a prison. That he didn’t feel safe around me anymore." The words drop like stones, flat and unadorned, and she doesn’t offer any defense for them. Just a shrug, like maybe if she keeps it casual it won’t split her in half.
