The Weaver's Source

Chapter 11

"I wonder when he's back." Gabi mulled as she stared at the door, poking her porridge absentmindedly. 

"You're acting worse than my magic." I pointed out as I wrestled my magic to calm. 

It still wasn't happy Weaver Grigore was away and urging me to leave and find him. It hated being so far away and was so riled up it was difficult to not think it was me feeling that.

"I want to see him with you." Gabi said with abrupt clarity. "I want to see what he's like with you."

"Why?" I asked cautiously, knowing she was up to something. 

Gabi  folded her arms with a light scowl touching her brow. 

"He must recognise you and feel something. So far, all your interactions with him have been alone. If I'm there, I can observe and see if he acts strangely." She tapped her chin. "When I spoke to him, he was just cold and stern."

"He's the same with me, Gabi."

"So you think. You likely aren't seeing something there because your magic is so wrapped up in his magic." She smiled lightly. "That and I doubt it's ever occurred to you any man would be drawn to you."

I bit my lip, swallowing the urge to blush as I recalled how he looked at me sometimes, how dark his gaze would become, how hungry he looked. It just made me feel flustered and butterflies burst in my stomach. Did he react to me like I did to him? Did he turn mindless when he saw me?

"Do you think you have a song, Lyra?"

I flinched out of my embarrassing thoughts. "What do you mean?"

"You said you could smell him, that he tasted pleasant."

"You said he sounded pleasant." I said defensively.

"But you agreed." 

I scowled silently so she continued triumphantly. 

"Maybe he can taste you too."

My cheeks burned. "Gabi!"

She laughed, her eyes filled with mirth. "Maybe he finds you pleasant too."

"If he did, he hasn't said anything." I blurted out, full of defence and embarrassment.

Gabi's features drooped and suddenly she looked annoyed. 

"I forgot he denied you." She sighed and tilted her head. "I still don't understand why. Did he not have the same dreams as you?"

"He said I was using some kind of witchery on him, trying to control him." I said softly, sobering. "That he wasn't my dog to use."

It occurred to me that maybe he wasn't used to my magic and the way it was. I'd been raised with it influencing me, making me feel what it wanted, making me do what it wanted. Sometimes I couldn't tell the difference between it and me, but it was normal. Maybe I scared him, but I shook that thought away. I was tiny compared to him, fragile and useless. There was no way I could scare a powerful man like that.

Sensing the mood souring, Gabi abruptly changed the subject, complaining about her brother running off for the day, forcing her to get trapped doing baking with her father. The evening went by quickly after that. After reading and sewing for a little while, Gabi and I went to bed. Lying there in the cold darkness and listening to the coming rain outside made me think too much. Constantly I worried about whether or not Grigore would change his tune slightly after he returned. I hoped maybe having some distance from me, some time to think, might warm him to me but I knew that was pointless.