Page 35 of Fate’s Sweetest Curse (Mirrors of Fate #2)

“He also said you were loyal,” I went on.

“Anya told me you were kind to her, when she went on her…” I trailed off, remembering that Anya and Idris were not supposed to speak of their journey to the Well of Fate, and that I ought not divulge how much I knew.

“On her quest to clear her name,” I finished.

Oderin nodded slowly, but he didn’t seem concerned by what I knew; in fact, it seemed to relax him.

“And how is Anya? ”

Just the thought of my friend had me grinning. “She’s wonderful.”

Oderin’s return smile was doting—then shifted into that haughty smirk I was beginning to recognize as his default. “Did she speak of my gallant deeds?”

“She said that in spite of the grim circumstances, you spoke mostly of your romantic trysts.”

Another loud laugh. “Gallant conquests , then,” he said, bouncing his eyebrows. I must’ve made a face because he went on defensively. “I had to lighten the mood somehow , didn’t I?”

In truth, I’d thought Anya had been exaggerating when she first told me about how—while escorting her to her possible death—Oderin had gone on and on and on about his lust-life.

As he was a Major of the Order of the Mighty, I hadn’t quite believed her tales, but over the past couple weeks, I’d found her descriptions of Oderin to be quite accurate.

He was boisterous, warm, impossibly charming.

I could see how easy it must’ve been for him to sweet-talk men into his bed.

“You know Idris shackled me to a tree so he could go after Anya?” Oderin asked.

“He did?”

“He was a smug ass about it.”

They hadn’t mentioned that part of their story. “That makes me love Idris even more,” I quipped, touching my shoulder. The skin was hot and stretched with swelling from Oderin’s strike.

“You ought to ice that when you get back to your dorm.”

“I will,” I promised.

“So, what about you?” Oderin asked, leaning back on his hands and lifting his chest, stretching his pecs.

“What about me?”

“Do you have a special someone in your life?”

I pressed my lips together, wondering how much to say.

“You do ,” Oderin intuited immediately. “Tell me about them. ”

“What do you want to know about him?”

“What is he like?”

I rolled my wrists, thinking. “He’s thoughtful and loyal. Funny, once you break through his more serious exterior. And he’s always trying to do the right thing. His actions speak louder than his words, and—” I broke off, hearing what I’d just said.

I know I should just leave you alone, but…

But his actions had said something else entirely, hadn’t they?

“You really care for him, don’t you?” Oderin teased.

I bit my lips together, knowing I was blushing. Rather than answering, I pulled one arm across my chest, then the other, stretching my shoulder muscles—and wincing at the new bruise.

“What of his appearance?” Oderin asked. “At least paint me a picture.”

I rolled my eyes again, but gave in. “He’s tall with dark features. Muscular, but lean.”

Oderin appeared wrapt. “What of his jawline?”

“Sharp.”

“Eyes?”

“Greener than you’ve ever seen.”

“ Mmm ,” Oderin grunted appreciatively. “You have good taste.”

“I am a taste magician.”

Oderin laughed heartily, then grew theatrically serious. “So, is he yours, or have you not claimed him yet?”

“Not mine,” I said, not bothering to hide my woe.

“Don’t tell me it’s unrequited.”

“I thought it was,” I admitted, “but now I’m not so sure.”

“So, there’s hope?”

“I don’t know about that,” I hedged.

“Why don’t you slip him a love potion? ”

A shocked chortle spilled out of me. “Without him knowing? That’s incredibly unethical.”

“Only kidding,” Oderin conceded. “But if you gave him one, do you think…” He circled his wrist, leading me to the unspoken conclusion.

Do you think it would work? Or, in more alchemically technical terms: Do you think he possesses enough feeling for you that a love potion would bring it to fruition? After all, love potions didn’t create love, they only elevated existing affection.

My face heated even further.

The truth was, yes , I did think Noble possessed enough affection for me that a potion of that sort could be effective. But that was the thing about free will: just because an emotion existed didn’t mean the person intended to act upon it.

“Phina would be horrified by this conversation,” I said instead.

Oderin beamed , causing me to break into a fit of giggles.

I’d missed these kinds of gossipy conversations.

While Sani, Uriel, and I had bonded over schoolwork and our respective pursuits, we rarely spoke about our personal lives.

Back in Waldron, gossip—for better or worse, usually better—was a cherished form of social currency.

Never catty or cruel, just humorous and doting, if a tad nosy (though real , sensitive topics were treated with the utmost respect).

Though I couldn’t tell Anya everything about my past without putting her at risk, I did share all my feelings with her—the yearning, the fluttery attraction, the heartache.

Even more inclined to speaking about crushes and interpersonal dynamics was Idris, who liked to brew tea and snack on pastries while we chatted.

Everything at the Collegium had been so heavy lately. I hadn’t realized how much I’d been craving a conversation like this until now.

“So…what’s his name?”

“Why?” I asked, feigning suspicion. “So you can steal him away from me? ”

Oderin clutched his chest. “I wouldn’t do that to a friend.”

“We’re friends?”

“With the way I struck you this afternoon? We’re either friends or enemies.”

“Friends, then.”

Oderin smiled. “You know, Hattie, I think you should pursue this fellow. What do you have to lose?”

Everything , I thought miserably. “It’s complicated,” I said.

Oderin brightened. “Forbidden love? That’s my favorite kind. Sneaking around, stolen glances, clandestine meetings.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Oh, but it is.” He arched a brow, his brown eyes sparkling. “In my experience, attraction can’t be denied forever.”

“In my experience, it can,” I said, but something about my last conversation with Noble—the shift in his demeanor after he saw the blood on my dress—made me wonder if Oderin had a point. Dangers be damned.

Oderin smiled again, this time with an encouraging, almost boyish tilt. His deep voice was lilting when he said, “We’ll see.”