Page 67 of Heart’s Rescue

“Those aren’t any good,” I snap. “They’ve gone frozen, or something.”

Rowan is watching me like I’m a very amusing trained dog. “You don’t know how to cook beans.”

I huff. “I told you, those have gone bad. They’re like rocks.”

Rowan ignores me. He tips the bag over the pan. The little bean-shaped rocks clatter like stones as they hit the metal. A moment later he pumps water into the pan, fits it with a lid, and sets the whole thing on a hook over the fire. I cross my arms over my chest and try to stand as far away from Rowan as possible. It’s a small cabin; I can’t get very far.

“It’s okay,” Rowan says. He’s still got an expression on his face that suggests he’s trying not to laugh, and it makes me want to slap him. “Look, I’ll teach you about beans. And, in exchange, you can teach me something from your world.”

I’m not even going to dignify that with a response. Rowan nudges the pot gently.

“Beans,” he says, “are pretty simple. You just add water and boil the ever-loving voids out of them.”

I lean back against the logs of the cabin. They’re cold, even through my wool sweater. Shame and embarrassment chase each other through my mind, tangling together in my chest. How could I have pretended to belong to Rowan’s world? Arryn of the Lands Below is a joke. I don’t even know how to feed myself.

Rowan was right. If he hadn’t bundled me up in his cloak when I’d asked for mercy, I would have died down here. I would have died a stupid, spoiled brat.

“Phaedron would do more with ‘em,” Rowan continues. His voice is lower this time, and he looks like he’s talking to the pot of beans. “He always knows what to add to make food taste good, you know?”

Some of my anger bleeds away as a whisper of steam rises from the pot. Rowan could have been much crueler about this. He could have been many things to me, starting from the moment he first surprised me in the dead forests of the Lands Below, but instead, he chose to help me. To bring me to the thin place, first, and then to help me find the cure to the injury I was too stupid and too helpless to avoid. And last night—

Stars, just thinking about last night makes me feel hot and hungry in a way I hadn’t even known existed.

“So,” Rowan says, stretching the word out as he comes to his feet and brushes his hands together. “Your turn.”

I blink at him. “My what?”

“Teach me something,” he says.

“Teach?” I laugh, and it comes out a strangled sort of yelp. “I don’t know anything that you would want to know.”

The words leave me feeling strangely deflated. It’s true; none of my skills are useful down here. I can do embroidery, I can create illusions, and I can greet people of thirty different ranks and social stations appropriately according to the circumstances. I can curtsey and bite my tongue and interpret subtle signs of social status. I know the major trade routes of the Worlds Above and who controls them and what their weaknesses are.

I know absolutely nothing of value to Rowan, or to anyone in his entire world. My eyes start to sting; I bite my lip before this can devolve any further. I’ve been a burden to Rowan since we first met, and I don’t want to add crying about my uselessness to the list of things he’s had to put up with.

“Teach me how to dance,” Rowan says.

I stare at him. He’s watching me with those wide, pale eyes, almost like he can tell what I’m thinking, and suddenly I’m very aware of how little space there is between our bodies, how warm it’s gotten in the cabin, how full and soft his lips are.

“I— what?” I stammer.

Rowan shrugs. “You know how to dance, right?”

“Of course,” I answer.

“Well, I don’t,” he says. He raises his hands on either side of me like he’s waiting for me to step into his arms. “So, teach me.”

I laugh. I don’t mean to, but I can’t help myself. “Why would you want to know how to dance?”

“Why not?” he responds, and his brilliant blue eyes are already dancing in the firelight.

I raise my hand to my lips to cover my smile. “You have a lot of dances down here, then?” I ask.

“We might,” he says. “Maybe I’ll go home and host the biggest dance the World’s End has ever seen.”

I giggle, and a part of me notices that he’s done it again. Rowan has turned my desperation into joy.

“But first,” Rowan says, watching me. “I need to know how to dance.”