The main girl, Gabrielle, fanned herself with a piece of paper, pushing her scent in Weysh’s direction. “I’m having a soiree at my manse to celebrate the start of the new school year. I’d love for you to come.” She handed Sylvie the paper.

“Of course. Thank you for the invite, Gabrielle,” said Sylvie quietly.

“Your brother is more than welcome as well.”

“I’ll do my best to make it,” said Weysh, and winked at her.

Her face went red and she smiled wide. “Wonderful! Well then, see you at school tomorrow, Sylvie!”

The girls said their good-byes and exited the café, setting the bell at the door tinkling. When Weysh looked back at Sylvie, her face was dark.

“What’s wrong?”

“Why do you always have to do that?” she grumped.

“En? Do what?”

“Flirt like that.”

“I was being friendly!”

She glared at him. “You have a Given now, you shouldn’t be flirting with other girls.”

“One, I wasn’t flirting,” said Weysh. “And two, I haven’t seen my Given in days.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“It seems I haven’t made the best impression.” He recounted all that had happened between them in the past week and a half. “She seems to respond much better to me when I’m in dragon, though.” He took a sip of the cocoa. “This is incredible, by the way.”

“I told you,” said Sylvie. “And Weysh, I say this with love, but you can be a bit much for people who don’t know you very well.”

He was aware of that. This wasn’t the first time his mouth had gotten him into trouble and it wouldn’t be the last.

“Yes, but she’s my Given.”

“Well,” Sylvie said slowly, “if she’s not receptive to you, maybe you should leave her be.”

“Sylvie!”

“What?”

“She’s my Given! I can’t just ‘leave her be’. ”

“Well, what would you do if a boy was bothering me like that?”

“I would sit the young man down and have a civilized conversation with him.” Sylvie let out a sharp peal of laughter that made Weysh scowl. “And anyway, this is different. We’re Given! I’m not bothering her . . . am I?”

Sylvie took a sip of her cocoa and glanced at him over the rim of her cup, saying nothing.

“Well, how am I supposed to win her over if I can’t even speak with her?” said Weysh.

Sylvie shrugged. “I’m sure she’ll come around.”

Weysh frowned at her. Something was wrong. A hint of bitter resentment wafted from her and stung his nose. “How was your first week of second school?” he asked.

“Fine.”

“Are you making friends?”

Sylvie gestured back at the door. “You saw.”

“I saw you get invited to a party.”

“Yes, because of you.”

“Nonsense. They invited you, Sylvie. I was an afterthought.”