and had caff and tea.
Finally, she dug into her bag and pulled out the manuscript pages that she’d recopied earlier.
Jace sat stiffly beside her, waiting in dread. She bumped him with her shoulder.
The Hawthorns leaned together on a sprawling sofa, Camellia encircled by Laev’s arm, against his chest, her bright gaze and easy smile fixed on Jace.
He made sure his fingers didn’t tremble when he took the pages. “It would be better if Raz Elecampane read these.” He could swear his voice was a whole tone higher.
Camellia D’Hawthorn’s stare narrowed and her mouth set. She made to sit up straighter, but her husband kept her close against him. Both formidable people, but T’Hawthorn was in charge of that relationship, Jace thought, and wondered how he managed the feat. It wasn’t just because of his status and wealth.
“I don’t want Raz Elecampane to orate this. I want you, Jace Bayrum. You wrote it, right?” Camellia asked.
“Glyssa—”
“No, you wrote it!” Camellia insisted.
“No.” He was firm. “I told the story—”
“And I transcribed it. We revised it together.” Glyssa’s mouth drooped. “I don’t have the storytelling or writing ability.”
“You can’t cook as well as I do, either,” Camellia said. “Nor multiply silver slivers into vast piles of gilt like Laev. We all have our abilities. Jace, is your primary Flair storytelling?”
“No,” Jace said.
“Maybe,” Glyssa said at the same time.
“I don’t have any large primary Flair,” Jace said. He was beginning to sweat, now wanted to do nothing more than read the damn words and get it over with. This dragging the event out was torture.
“I’m not sure of that,” Glyssa said in a thoughtful tone that caught his attention. “I’ve seen your leather- crafting work. It’s exquisite.”
Heat flowed up Jace’s neck to his face. Man, he hoped he wasn’t turning red! Ruddy. He’d look ruddy, right?
“If your wonderful leatherworking is your creative Flair, your primary Flair should be equally strong and lovely,” Camellia said.
Laev frowned. “I haven’t seen his leatherworking.” He drilled Jace. “Why is that?”
“Maybe because it’s none of your business?” Glyssa put in.
Before Jace’s eyes, the coin purse he’d given to Camellia appeared in her lap. Since she wore a midnight blue gown, the white-dyed leather with the fancy gold tracing showed up just fine.
Exclaiming, Laev touched the tiny pursenal before Camellia snatched it away. “
“You didn’t bring me a present?” Laev asked, though he didn’t turn his penetrating gaze Jace’s way. The GreatLord still stared at the coin purse.
“He brought my good friends gifts,” Glyssa said.
“Tiana got something, too, and I didn’t?” Laev held out his palm to his HeartMate, obviously asking to see the small work. This whole thing jittered Jace’s nerves.
“You have to be a friend more than a few weeks to be counted as a good friend,” Glyssa said, teasing.
But Laev just waved that aside as he gently rubbed the leather with his thumb, studied the golden pattern of flourishes that Jace had made. Laev opened and closed the coin purse, and when he shot Jace a look, it held irritation. “The metal for the closure is far inferior to your work.”
Jace’s flush had just begun to settle down when those words brought it back. The clasp was the best he could afford at the time, as usual. He sure wasn’t going to say that.
Finally Laev glanced at him again. “I’ll commission you to replace—”
“No!” Camellia said, grabbing the leatherwork away from him and holding it to her breasts. “It’s mine and I want it as it was originally made.”
Laev’s eyes gleamed. He rubbed his hands, looked at Jace. “Perhaps if you and I were to deal—”
“No,” Glyssa and Camellia said together. Glyssa continued, “Laev, you can’t go into business with all of your friends.”
“Why not?” He grinned wickedly. “They should want to go into business with me, I’m the best. What do you say, Bayrum? I could give your work to T’Ash or offer it at the Enlii Art Gallery.” He nodded to Camellia. “You might want to take it to the Enlii and see what Apple says about a show.”
Jace shut it.
One of the glass panels along the wall out toward the lush gardens opened and a cat strolled in.
The cat scanned the room, opened her mouth and curled her tongue in that way cats had of using their extra sense, then hopped down from the sofa and trotted over to Jace, sniffed at his boots. He wasn’t sure he liked that. Zem never did that. She jumped up and stretched, putting her claws in the fabric of the twoseat to anchor her as she got close to Jace, sniffed again, and revved a purr.
“Take your claws out of the furniture, Mica,” Glyssa snapped.
“Friends of mine for only a few weeks don’t receive gifts from Jace,” Glyssa repeated.
Mica butted her head against his shoulder.
Camellia sighed. “I’ll commission a piece—”
“Jace has a lot of things going,” Glyssa said. “He’s bought a few shares in the excavation of
“We haven’t heard from Bayrum,” Laev said. “Want to deal?”
“I’ll consider it,” Jace said, just to stop all this.
The cat crawled onto his thighs and licked under his chin. He winced.
“Come here, Mica,” Camellia said. “Come and sit and think about what you might want Jace to make you.”
With a tiny nip at his chin, the cat left him for her FamWoman and Jace was real glad he had a bird.
The three Hawthorns settled in and Laev nodded at the papyrus sheets Jace held. “And if the story is as good as your leatherwork, we can talk to a playwright or Raz—”
“No. Absolutely not. The story is
And it was time. Jace began to read.
Twenty-eight
Jace cleared his throat one last time and read. He paused for breath after the opening.
“Oh, oh, oh,” Camellia’s voice sounded like mournful coos. Tears ran down her face and her husband pulled her close and her Fam purred louder.
“We already know it ends happily,” Glyssa said in a soothing tone.
Camellia gave a watery sniff and looked at Jace. “I think I’d rather stop for now, until Tiana can join
