“You—” I stare at him. “What do you even do in a day?”
“Oh, you know.” He sighs but catches my eye playfully. “Rescue women that fall from the sky, buy wayward souls dresses—”
I （unsuccessfully） bite back a smile.
Itheelia Le Faye is rummaging around in a wardrobe, and when she turns back around to us, she’s holding a beautiful fur coat in her arms.
Her eyes land on my hands, holding her son how I am, and she stares for a few seconds. Then, ever so faintly, as though tugged by an invisible string, I see a hint of a smile.
“Put this on.” She shoves the coat into my hands.
Somewhat reluctantly, I unfurl myself from Jamison’s arm, and he gently tugs his coat off my body.
“First time I’m undressing ye and it’s in front of my marm,” he sighs, and I roll my eyes at him.
He pulls his coat back on himself and blows air out of his mouth like he’s been freezing this whole time （though he’s not said a word about it）， then he takes the coat from my arms and holds it open for me. I slip inside it, and maybe his hands hover on my arms a second longer than they need to, I’m not sure.
I look over at his mother. “He’s very well-mannered.”
“He is.” She nods, proud, before she looks at her son, struck as though she’s just remembered something. “I’ve something for you.”
She darts out the room, and as she does, I notice some stones in a bowl with carvings on them. I pick one up to inspect it, then glance at Jem. “What are these?”
“Truth runes,” he says.
“What?” I blink.
“You throw them in the air and ask a yes or no question, and the way the stones land tells you the answer.”
I stare over at him, incredulous. “How?”
Jem pulls a face, as though he thinks I’m silly. “Magic.”
“Oh.” I flash him an embarrassed smile.
“Here, I’ll show ye.” Jem grabs the stones and tosses them into the air. “Is Daphne attracted to me?”
In a panicked rush, not knowing quite what to do, I dive to cover the pirate’s eyes and quickly scramble the stones as they land.
Jem peels his hands off me and gives me a look.
I shrug demurely. “You wouldn’t have liked the answer.”
He flicks me a look. “Aye, but I already ken the answer, so…”
“I know you think you know the ans—”
“Oh.” He cuts me off. “I know the answer.”
My eyes pinch because I feel like I’m losing and I’m see-through, and clearly, I am, but then his eyes pinch back at me, and for some reason, it makes me feel better.
“Well.” I cross my arms over my chest. “You think I’m attractive.”
“Sure.” He gives me a look. “Ye d?dnae need the stones to tell ye that though.”
My cheeks go pink, and then his mother walks back in with what looks like a little gold compass in hand. She offers it to Jem.
He looks down at it. “What’s this?”
“A compass,” she tells him with a look, and he flips it open, looking down at it.
“It’s broken.” He tells her.
She leans over and peers down, and I can’t see it, but she looks from the compass to me and then says, “No, it’s not.”
And then she waves her hand and starts rearranging the flowers that are on her dining table.
Jamison frowns down at it in his hand. “North’s that way.” He points north, apparently.
She glances back at him. “Who said anything about north?”
And then they seem to have a mother-son conversation with their eyes, and he pockets the compass and says no more about it.
I stare over at Itheelia, whizzing flowers through the air, and I try to do the maths. “How old are you?”
She gasps dramatically, but there’s a twinkle in her eye. “The nerve.”
I look over at Jamison instead, who’s moved to an armchair by a fireplace that isn’t lit.
“Mum.” He nods his head at the empty fireplace.
“Can’t my son build a fire with his own two hands?” She scowls.
“Cannae my mother no’ just”—he snaps his fingers—“with her magical powers?” He gives her an impatient look.
“Lazy, impatient, slothful—”
“Cold.” He interrupts her.
Itheelia rolls her eyes. With about four flicks of her wrist, the fire is ablaze.
Jem gets up from the chair and crouches down in front of it, warming his hands, and I stare over at him and swallow.