Ethereal

Chapter 20

    Chick-fil-A was better than I remembered. I'd found out that many faeries had a salt allergy, so that had been the reason why I'd been unknowingly deprived of anything salty for months. I, and as it turned out Lark too, happened to be immune to this salt allergy, though, which meant we could eat the salty goodness known as a Chick-fil-A breaded chicken sandwich.

    I pulled the wrapped sandwiches out of the bag, which was already showing oil stains on the bottom, passing one to Lark. I then dug out the waffle fries and Chick-fil-A sauce. Lark slowly unwrapped the greasy paper around his sandwich, scrutinizing its contents.

    "What is this?" he asked. "I thought you ordered chicken."

    "This is chicken," I said, taking a big bite out my sandwich. I sighed with contentment.

    Lark skeptically took a bite, chewing thoughtfully. Once he swallowed, he said, "I must say, I thought it would be better."

    I snorted. "At least try the sauce. It's famous." I nudged the open container across the table.

    "For what? Being a sickly color?"

    I kicked him under the table. "Just try it."

    "Fine," he mumbled, dipping a heavily salted fry into the orange-colored sauce and taking a small bite. "Not a culinary masterpiece," he mused, "but it has potential."

    I shook my head. "You sound like a food connoisseur." We sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the food. "Hey, so who do you think broke into the compartment?" I asked suddenly.

    Lark lazily swirled a fry in sauce, considering this. "My best guess is whoever is working with Rune."

    I unintentionally tensed, the faint taste of dead leaves and forced pleasure flooding my mouth. It happened whenever someone said his name. A slight crease formed between Lark's brows as he noticed the shift in my demeanor. He had been the only one to actually see Rune attack me. He knew just how bad it had been.

    I cleared my throat, attempting to regain my composure. "So you still think Rune had a hand in this?"

    Lark had stopped twirling the French fry. "I didn't mean to bring him up—"

    "No, it's fine," I said a little too loudly. "I was the one who asked. You were saying...?"

    Lark held my gaze for a second longer before dropping it. "Yes, well, he was obviously very opposed to our engagement. Maybe he hoped to postpone the repair to have more time to change my father's mind."

    "That's ridiculous. We've already been coronated. Your father doesn't even have any control anymore."

    "He's been set on becoming high tsar since my father chose him. I don't think he'll be deterred. Plus, destroying the preparations for the repair would've been the perfect thing to embarrass me."

    "And did it?"

    "Embarrass me? No, I'm not easily embarrassed." Lark ran a hand through his hair, leaning back against the back of the metal chair.

    But I couldn't help but remember the way Lark's cheeks had reddened when I'd discovered the caladium in our room.

    "Well, I'm done," Lark said, pushing the empty wrapping back to the center of the table. He began to stand up, beckoning for me to follow since I'd also finished.

    "We have to throw our trash away," I protested.

    Lark wrinkled his nose. "What is the point of the help then?" He nodded to one of the employees dropping off an order to a family seated at one of the light gray booths.