“Corva has red in her hair, yeah.” I shuffled closer to him. “You saw her the first time we went to Deep Brew, remember? She was the lady arguing with her ex on the phone.”
He shrugged. “Don’t remember. This person looks fancy, though. It’s probably her. Oh, hold on, she’s texting someone, by the looks…”
A few seconds later, my phone vibrated in my coat pocket. I pulled it out to see a text from Corva.
At the bar! Have ordered us a bottle of champers. You like champagne, don’t you?
By the time I’d finished reading, a second text had come through.
What am I saying, of course you like champagne. Who doesn’t? See you in a few!
“Okay, yeah, that’s her.” I pocketed my phone and shifted, nerves filling my belly like a million butterflies. “I guess I better go in.”
Greid turned to face me, placing his big hands on my shoulders as he gazed down at me. “You got this. You’ll have fun. And if you don’t, just text me and I’ll call you with an excuse. Like… I cut off a finger while trying to cook.”
His dorkiness chased away some of my nerves, allowing me to chuckle as I clutched the front of his coat. “Okay. Thank you.”
“I know I already said it before we left, but…” His ears fluttered. “You look beautiful.”
I flushed, glancing down at my new dress. I wished I’d remembered to buy some more appropriate shoes to wear with it, but by the time I realised it was too late. So boots it was. At least my feet would most likely be tucked under a table all night.
“Thanks, Greid.” I stepped closer and tugged on his coat until he bent down to kiss me. “I’ll text you when I’m ready to leave.”
“’Kay.” He snuck in one last kiss before straightening. “Remember, you’re brave. And confident. You’re the best.”
I chuckled as my belly squeezed with pleasure. “You have to say that because we’re… a thing.”
“I don’t have to say it. Or think it. But I do.” He grinned down at me, sharp teeth flashing in the dark. “You’re my favourite.”
My throat closed up. Just like that, I didn’t want to go out anymore. I wanted to go back home with Greid and curl up on the couch together under a mound of blankets.
But Corva was already waiting for me. I couldn’t blow her off now. And I knew, deep down, past the nerves, I didn’t really want to. I liked her. I wanted friends.
“You’re my favourite too,” I told Greid, feeling strangely shy, like the words I LOVE YOU had suddenly been stamped across my forehead. I took a breath. “Okay, I better go. I’ll see you later.”
“Have fun.” Greid shot me a double thumbs up before stuffing his hands in his coat pockets, watching as I turned for the door.
Taking another deep breath, I pushed it open and was hit with a warm, sweet smell that reminded me of the scented candles Greid liked so much. Some form of soft demiurgus jazz was playing in the background beneath the low murmurs and laughs of people sitting in clumps around tables with red-and-gold stained-glass lanterns in the centres. The majority of patrons were demiurgus, but there were a few humans in the mix as well, which lessened my nerves a little.
A tall demiurgus waiter in a blood-red shirt and black pants smiled at me as he passed by, carrying a tray with a bottle of nightberry wine and four glasses. I smiled nervously back and smoothed down my dress as I made my way over to the bar. It wasn’t too busy, and I immediately spotted Corva sitting in a stool with her long bare legs elegantly crossed, a deadly sharp stiletto tapping against the footrail.
“Hi, Corva.” I stopped beside her and quickly took in her outfit to gauge whether I was too over- or underdressed. She was wearing a little black dress with a short, asymmetrical hem and a line of tiny, shimmering red stones sewn along the bateau neckline. Matching earrings dangled from her lobes, and her lips were painted her signature deep red.
“Beryl, darling!” She placed a hand on my arm and leaned in to air-kiss me. A waft of sweet, earthy perfume followed in her wake. “You look gorgeous. Sit, sit. Our champagne should be arriving any second.”
“Sorry I’m a little late.” I shrugged off my coat and hung it over the back of the stool before sitting. I was suddenly feeling self-conscious of my boots, so I tried to tuck my feet against the bottom rail of the stool, but they were made for demiurgus—way too tall for me to do that. I felt like a little kid as I sat there with my feet dangling.
“Hardly. I’m usually fashionably late to everything, but I was in the next district over meeting a client before this, so I managed to get here on time.” She beamed at me, reaching over to squeeze my arm. “I’m so glad we’re doing this, darling.”
Her friendliness was allowing me to relax. I smiled back at her. “Me too. I don’t, um, I don’t know that many people around here, so it’s nice to get out and see more of the area.”
Corva waved a hand as the bartender appeared with a bottle of champagne in a bucket and two flutes. “Next time I’ll invite some friends. They don’t live in this district, but I know they’ll be happy to come here. It’s a lovely part of town.”
Instantly, the nerves returned. Relax, it’s just a hypothetical plan. It’s not actually happening for certain. Just try and enjoy tonight without worrying about the future.
“That sounds nice.” I jumped a little when the bartender smoothly popped the champagne cork and began pouring our drinks.
“Thanks, darling,” Corva told him absently, already picking up a flute and handing it to me. “You said before you haven’t drunk much, didn’t you? The best thing about champagne, Beryl, is minimal hangover. Cheers.”
I chuckled and tapped my glass to hers. “That’s lucky. I’m going to this artisan market tomorrow morning with my… my boyfriend.” The word made my belly clench, which felt a little silly.
Corva’s yellow eyes brightened over the rim of her flute as she took a sip. “Ooh yes, that’s what we’re talking about first. Your mysterious second-coffee-cup-drinker. Come on, let’s go grab a table so we can talk about sex without any creeps trying to overhear and wriggle their way into the conversation.”
I choked on my drink, having just been taking my first sip, but slipped off my stool and grabbed my coat to follow Corva as she picked up the champagne bucket and started heading for an empty table in the corner. Several pairs of appreciative eyes trailed over her as she passed, but she didn’t seem to notice or care. Maybe she wasn’t ready to date yet after her divorce—no, not divorce, dissolution of her matehood. That was what demiurgus called it.
“Thank you for the champagne,” I said as we settled at the table. One less thing to worry about—I already knew I liked champagne.
“My pleasure. Now.” Corva pinned me in place with her big yellow eyes. “Boyfriend. Go.”
I let out a nervous chuckle. “Um, well… He’s called Greid. He’s a jeweller. And he’s a demiurgus,” I added, because I’d seen Corva’s brows twitch when I told her Greid’s name, and I knew she’d probably say something similar to Parin a few nights ago.
Corva’s eyes went wide. She leaned in closer and whispered, “Do you have sex?”
My face flamed bright red. “Yes.”
Intrigue flared in her gaze, which darted quickly down my front and back up. “Does he have a cock?”
Corva, it’s practically a third leg. “Yeah, he does.”
She stared at me in silence for a moment, then sat back and picked up her champagne. “I have so many questions.”