Chapter 45

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Chapter 45

                “Sa… uhm… Finnigan?”  Angeline bites down on her lower lip, and holds her breath as she waits for a response from in front of the canvas door to his tent.  After a dozen seconds of aggravating silence, she strides through the flaps, and takes a quick, confused glance around the small space at finding it completely empty of people that looked like her husband.  The bed was cold, as was the basin of filthy water, and she sets a frown onto her lips as she wonders where in the Hell he might have gone to.

                Only one idea presents itself to her, and fairly readily at that… so she heads into the main camp, and pokes her head around the side of the pharmacy’s partition.  After letting out a soft sigh of relief, she shuffles into the area, and clears her throat as she watches the clearly sleep-deprived apothecary plying his craft in the mid-dawn hour.  “You, uh… you’ve been here all night, I take it?”

                Finn pauses in grinding a dried root into powder with the aid of a white-marble mortar and pestle to glance up at the newest interruption.  “Yes.  Why?”

                The blonde arcanist purses her lips as she bites back on a retort, and spares herself a stab of pain through the heart by playing her gaze around the ordered work-space.  “N-nothing… just… thought you’d like to get some food together…”

                “I’m busy.”

                The blue-eyed caster clenches her hands into fists at her side, and peeks back to the dour man in her mate’s body.  Was this really what Samuel had been like before?  So angry at everything that he couldn’t even have a normal conversation?  “You need to eat, damnit… and why the Hell are you even doing this?!  There’s a perfectly capable-“

                “Capable?!”  Snapping a cold glare up to the young mage, the black-haired male’s upper-lip curls at the thought of the incompetent boy he’d thrown out the previous night.  “That idiot tried to make a lethal poison and pass it off as a sleeping aide!  And if he was the most-capable pharmacist that you have, then I seriously question your abilities!”

                Angeline trades a long stare with the imposter from under her brow, then snorts out a noise of annoyance as she fights down the desire to set his pilfered sweater on fire.  “What’s wrong with you?”

                The wiry apothecary slams the thick bowl against the dining-room table doubling as a work-bench, and rises up from his stool to properly glare down at the insufferable girl.  “Now look, here!  I don’t care what you claim to have happened since my time in the Capital, but you have no right to go prying into my affairs, damnit!  How I act is my choice, and I’ll thank you to kindly stay silent on matters that, clearly, are NONE of your concern!”

                The golden-haired femme allows her head to drop under the renewed realization that this man was definitely not the one she’d fallen in love with, and quickly spins about on her heel to stalk off towards the command-post.  “Jonas.  Give me a station, Goddess damn it.”

                Raising his brows as he pushes himself away from the long collection of tables, the tiny magus takes quick stock of the simmering anger, and offers his adoptive-daughter a pained smile for her efforts.  “I… take it that you’ve spoken with Finnigancharming fellow, is he not?  I just attempted to converse with him a short while ago… it did not go well…”

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