“I find I don’t care for their company.”

I shouldn’t encourage such sentiments from him, but I gesture toward a chair. “Sit, then.” There’s a pitcher of wine on the table, and I pour a cup for each of us. Down in the garden, three young men start an elaborate dance that involves the juggling of lit torches. The flames rise and fall in hypnotizing
patterns.

“I almost forgot,” he says. He presents me with a handful of berries wrapped in a linen handkerchief. “These grow in the garden, and they’re delicious.”

I tilt my head. “Are you sure they’re safe to eat? I’m not sure I trust your herb lore.”

“Ha! Well, I haven’t dropped dead yet, have I? Here, I’ll eat one with you. Then we can be poisoned together.”

We each take one. The juice is rich and sweet, and my eyes widen with delight.

He smiles and pushes the rest toward me. “Have your fill. I’ve been sneaking bites all afternoon.”

I don’t need any more encouragement. When I’ve finished a handful, he looks at me and grins. “You have berry stains on your face,” he says, and he wipes the corner of my mouth with his thumb. His hand is gone before I’ve even fully registered what he’s doing. Still, his touch leaves a tingle on my skin.

“We might make a forager of you yet,” I say.

“At least now I’ve brought you some useful plants,” he says. “I did try to gather some puzta flowers for you on my trip north, but they spilled.”

I laugh. “I can forgive you dropping my precious flowers during an ambush.”

His smile fades a bit. “Actually, they spilled before we even went up the mountain.”

“They did? How?”

He shakes his head. “Just a silly thing.” He pauses again, and it’s clear that he’s reliving some moment. “Some people can’t see past the surface. I think it’s their loss.” There is a conviction in his voice that I can’t quite understand.

“You’re being cryptic.”

Again, he struggles over his words, only to shake his head again. “You’re an extraordinary woman, Zivah,” he says. “You’re one of the bravest and kindest people I know. You’re more than the marks on your skin, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

I still don’t understand what happened to the flowers he gathered, but I do understand what I see in his eyes. A heaviness settles in my stomach, and I know what I must do.

“Dineas.” I place my hand gently on his arm. “I’m fond of you, you know I am. But it’s as a brother and a friend. You must know that.”

A long silence follows. I see his chest rising and falling next to me. Finally, I can’t stand it anymore, and force myself to look at him.