Rot ━ Mal Oretsev ✓

014: BAD LIAR

"I'm entirely convinced you have no taste buds, Zoya. I mean, mint?"

Zoya lets out a grandiose scoff, her eyes trailing over toward where Thalia is draped over the hammock. It's just the two of them, of course. The rest of their Grisha friends are either back at the Little Palace gawking over Alina or out on missions set by General Kirigan, but Thalia and Zoya are still here.

Two days have passed since they were ordered back to the First Army camp to reassess their priorities, and Thalia can't help but think that they've done anything but that. Their task today had been composed of sorting through the casualty lists of those lost on the Fold days prior, and Thalia had barely kept her composure when her eyes found Zaria's name.

So, when the two of them retired to their tent for the afternoon and Zoya struck up a conversation regarding Thalia's (apparently questionable) taste in ice cream, she'd been tremendously grateful. A strange topic for the two to be conversing, especially considering Thalia wasn't even the one to bring it up. But she got the sneaking suspicion that Zoya was doing whatever she could to distract Thalia's ever wandering mind.

"My taste buds work perfectly well, thank you. They're actually advanced enough to realise strawberry ice cream is utter gunk."

A bright laugh escapes from Thalia's throat, prompting her to sit up in the hammock and face Zoya fully, "Gunk? When did the word gunk become part of your vocabulary?"

Zoya scowls harmlessly, throwing a ball of paper at Thalia, "Since I started hanging around you, you wicked being."

She catches the paper ball in her hand, eyebrow raised at Zoya, "Wicked being? That's not a very friendly thing to say."

"Well, we're not friends, are we?"

Her stomach sinks, "Aren't we?"

A gormless grin breaks out on Zoya's face at Thalia's expression, "Didn't you know, Thalia? I'm only doing charity work."

With great force, Thalia pitches the paper ball back at Zoya and hits her square on the cheek, eyes twinkling, "What a blessing that you're being treated to entertainment this good for free."

"Oh, yeah," Zoya concurs. "I must admit, though I found it peeving at first, watching you attempt to flirt with the tracker whilst having no idea what you are doing is proving to be very amusing."

"That's not very nice!" Thalia scolds, wide eyed. "What's so inadequate about my flirting that makes your own that much better, anyway?

Zoya shrugs, "Don't get yourself all worked up now, Thalia. Your flirting isn't entirely bad, it just needs a bit of polishing, is all. And I'd say the fact I have successfully enraptured every man or woman I've so desired to while you haven't so much as kissed the tracker is proof enough I'm a much better flirter than you."

"And how is it you know I haven't kissed him?" Thalia asks, her heart racing at even the thought. "For all you know, we could've had a quickie in the medical tent the other night."

"But you didn't," Zoya pushes on, tapping at her temple. "I know things, my love. I know that if you had been with that man intimately then you would not have come back to the tent walking the way you did. You'd have been—"

Thalia holds out her hand, cutting Zoya off, her face burning, "I think that's about enough out of you, thanks."

"You needn't be embarrassed, Thalia," she assures. "Its perfectly normal to want a handsome man to bed you, especially when you've never—"

   "Oh my Saints, shut up!" Thalia cries, burying her face in her palms. Zoya's bright laughter echoes in the tent, wholly enlivened by Thalia's embarrassment. "You are truly the only person who has ever buggered me about this, and I'd really like you to give it a rest."