“For what?” I frown over at her.
She raises her eyebrows. “For you.”
Jamison catches my eye, then rolls his before he turns and claps his hand over her mouth.
“Thon’s enough out o’ ye.” And then he kisses her on the cheek.
She looks up at him, annoyed. “Why would you bring her to me?”
British accent. Quite proper.
I stand there feeling self-conscious and stupid, wondering who he’s brought me to. Another non-girlfriend of his? Fucking pirates! Fucking men, actually—I hate them all. They’re all scoundrels.
He shrugs. “I wanted to see ye, and she was so doonhairtit,* asleep in a wee canoe all by herself.”
The woman looks over at me, impatient. “Why were you in a canoe?”
“On land, what’s more,” Jamison butts in, looking over at me.
“Oh.” The woman grimaces. “The saddest of canoes.”
Jamison nods his head towards me.
“She came t’ see me last night. I wasn’t expecting company. I was…entertaining someone else”—he catches my eye, and I throw him a disparaging look—“and so struck with sorra,? she wallowed in a canoe.”
I glare over at him for a moment before flicking the woman a look. “He took many liberties in that tale.”
“I’m sure he did.” She nods. “Nevertheless, who are you?”
“Daphne,” I tell her, but for whatever reason, that doesn’t quite seem sufficient, so I glance at Jamison quickly before I compulsively offer her my surname for no reason. “Beaumont-Darling.”
She looks me up and down and then, rather suddenly, without asking or warning, she grabs my hand. She flips it over in hers and inspects my palm, squinting at it. I look back over at Jem, my eyes wide with a mild concern, but he just gives me a half a smile.
Then the woman drops my hand and grabs Jamison’s. She runs her hands over his palm twice,? stretches it out, and peers down at it. Then she grabs mine again. Holds both our hands, lined up next to each other, and moves them around to catch the light she’s looking for.
“Hm,” she says. “Interesting.”
And that’s all she says before she drops both our hands and looks from him to me.
“She has the kiss.” She points to my mouth.
Jem nods. “I ken. I quite like it there.”
She glances at me. “Pan hasn’t taken it?”
I flash her a quick smile. “He’s tried.”
Jamison shifts a little uneasily next to me.
“I’m Itheelia,” the woman tells me.
My mouth falls open.
“Le Faye?” I blink at her. Of course! From the book! I thought she looked familiar. “The founder?” I clarify.
“Ah.” She sighs. “If you believe certain history books…”
“I’ve read all about you. You came here with your brother and—”
“And my best friends.” She nods.
“You travelled across six galaxies!”
“So have you.” She gives me a look. “Well, actually, Earth is perhaps just two stops from here, but nevertheless, quite a trip, wouldn’t you say?”
“Quite, yes.” I nod, staring over at her in awe before I find myself shaking my head. “I’m so sorry, I just—how are you alive still?”
She throws Jamison a look, as though I’m the rudest girl in all the world.
“It was a long time ago, wasn’t it?” I add quickly when she doesn’t answer me.
She nods, and a look I can’t quite place rests on her face. “Aye, it was a long time ago.” Then she clears her throat. “Why were you in a canoe, Daphne Beaumont-Darling?”
I cross my arms over my chest proudly. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”
“I see.” She nods and then her eyes pinch. “Now, when you say entertaining…” She eyes Jamison suspiciously, and I wonder if they’re going to have a lovers’ quarrel.
I would be fairly gutted if indeed he had brought me up a mountain to dangle his potential other lover in my face, and if she’s the reason he didn’t kiss me, even though it was snowing and the breeze was begging us to and everything, I suppose I should cause a lovers’ quarrel between them for just some small slice of justice.
Jamison smiles uncomfortably and I—already annoyed at him, both for indisputably ruining our （almost） kiss and for hypothetically being romantically involved with yet another person—clear my throat.