I’d make sure of it.

“Admit it,” I said. “I did a good job.”

“I thought you said your servants did all the work.”

“Hm.”

All right, so perhaps coaxing a smile out of her today was going to be more difficult than I’d anticipated. Challenge accepted.

“So where do we start?” I asked, striding up next to her and prying the metal prod from her hands. I took care to make sure my fingers lingered on hers as I did, and derived no small amount of satisfaction when her pulse skipped.

Ellie swallowed, tucking her dark ringlets behind her ear. Fates, she was pretty. The canary yellow day dress she wore was simple, yet it suited her. Her eyes were wide, a warm brown with tiny golden flecks around the edges.

Yes, Ellie Payne was very, very pretty.

“We?” she asked. “I wasn’t aware you dabbled in glassblowing.”

“Oh, I don’t. Dabble, I mean. That’s why you’re going to teach me.”

“Remind me why you want to learn glassblowing again,” Ellie said, not bothering to mask the suspicion in her tone as she peered over me, watching me spin a red-hot bulb of molten glass stuck to the end of a metal rod (which was called a blow pipe, according to Ellie) against a shaping mold. She was so close, I could feel the warmth of her breath.

Which would have been pleasant, had that breath not been directed down the back of my shirt collar as she reminded me what I was doing wrong.

This might have been my third attempt at forming a glass bulb. Ellie was of the opinion that I talked too much and let the glass cool too quickly before applying another layer of molten glass and returning to the furnace.

“I want to learn glassblowing because it’s about the only skill I’ve yet to master,” I said, unable to help but notice her pleasant scent—fresh rainwater and lavender—even as it mingled with the cinders from the furnace.

She snorted, which I found adorable. Females of fae nobility never allowed themselves to snort. “I highly doubt this is the only one left.”

“Try me.”

“Sailing?”

“A solo trip across the Adreean on my sixteenth birthday.”

“Taxidermy?”

“Unfortunately. One is not reared under the strict hand of my father without being forced to shoot and stuff one’s own wall decorations.”

I took my gaze off my glowing bulb for a moment to find Ellie grimacing.

She chewed her lip, staring me straight in the face as she pondered. “Playing the harp?”

“Unless you’ve invented a musical instrument I’m unaware of, you’ll be hard pressed to find one I can’t maneuver.”

“What about magic? I thought the royal family had power over plants, but I haven’t seen you use it,” she asked.

“My sister Olwen’s the magic-wielding prodigy in the family. I’ve never been much good at it.”

“So you don’t use it?”

“Do you enjoy tasks you’re not skilled at, Ellie Payne?”

She cut her pretty brown eyes to the side, eyeing my misshapen orb. “You let it cool off again.”

I tilted to the side, leaning into her. “What can I say? I find you distracting.”

Ellie swallowed and directed me to start over.

By my fifth attempt, Ellie was tapping her foot against the ground, tugging at her skirt like she was trying to give her hands something to do other than rip the blow pipe directly out of my hands.

On any other occasion, I might have been annoyed by this, except that I’d let the fourth bulb cool on purpose.

“All right, you’ve got it this time. Just don’t get distracted talking, and I’m sure this will be the one.” Ellie scratched the stretch of skin under her jaw, as if watching me work was giving her hives.

“Perhaps it’s not me that’s the problem. Have you considered that it could be your teaching style?”

By the look on her face, Ellie clearly had not. “My teaching style? I’m telling you exactly what to do. You’re just not listening.”

I’d never had to fight that hard to suppress a grin. “I’m more of a hands-on learner myself.”

Ellie’s throat bobbed, and she took half a step away from me.

“But if giving verbal instructions is the only way you’re comfortable teaching, then I underst—”

She flicked her wrist, banishing the rest of my sentence. My lungs were shaking now with the effort of holding back a laugh. Then, to both my eternal amusement and utmost disappointment, she shuffled around to the other side of me so she could place her hands on the rod while still being able to maintain space between us.

“See, you have to keep turning it consistently so the bulb with stay even.”

“Got it,” I said, turning the rod much faster than would be to her liking.

“Well, I suppose that’s consistent, but—”

“I think we’re in need of a demonstration,” I said, passing the rod to Ellie. When the weight settled into her fingertips, her shoulders loosened, and the relief in her cheeks was palpable.

Then I wrapped my arms around her from behind, and every last fiber of Ellie Payne’s body went rigid.

“I thought you said you needed a demonstration,” she said, her tone warbling, but she made no move to push me away.

“No,” I said, nuzzling in close so she could hear my low whisper. Her breath hitched as my lips brushed her ear. “I said we’re in need of a demonstration. I’m demonstrating to you how to properly demonstrate.”

When I pressed my chest to her back, the rod in her hands began to tremble. I let my fingers trail down her arms before letting them rest over her hands, my grip steadying the rod.

“Ellie Payne?” I asked, dragging my thumb across her fingers, noting every dip, every ridge.

“Yes?” she answered, her voice hardly audible.

“I think I’m ready to learn now.”