heart. The effect would be spinsterhood, but Seylah would willingly welcome her status when the time came so long as she was able to keep August near. He would marry, of that she was sure.
August Leclaire was a desirable bachelor, even if they were always together. The women of Gold Sky knew better than to make anything of their propensity to be seen together. It had always been that way. Seylah was no threat, because there was nothing between them, or rather there was nothing of a romantic nature on August’s side of their friendship.
Their young friendship had been the product of a debt. A debt Seylah refused to think too much on since they had reconciled.
She took comfort in the thought that August had taken to her and, debt or no debt, desired her company. It was easier to swallow than the possibility that August’s honorable nature had driven him to seek her out on her eighteenth birthday, had made him speak to her as he had, and she, a desperate fool, had taken the offering like a woman dying of thirst in the desert.
No, it couldn’t be that. August cared for her, truly. She knew it even if it wasn’t as she felt for him.
He had to.
“Are you not a fan of brussel sprouts, then?” Elliot asked, and Seylah nearly groaned at herself for not paying attention to the man. She gave him an apologetic smile.
“Brussel sprouts?” She asked, desperately trying to piece together the conversation Elliot had been having with her.
“Yes, I mentioned that there were some here and you got the strangest look on your face.”
“I did?”
Elliot nodded, moving along the table and spooning more food on his plate. “Yes, you looked … defeated.”
She pulled a face. “Brussel sprouts do not suit my current appetite then it would seem.”
“It would seem so,” he said, reaching for a roll. “Isn't that gentleman your friend from the other day?” Elliot nodded across the square, and Seylah felt her heart leap into her throat.
It was August.
He was standing at the center of the excitement, citizens streaming around him as he stood still as a statue and looking … straight at her.
“He’s looking this way. I think he’s noticed you.”
“I can’t possibly imagine that he has,” Seylah said, dropping her eyes to the food in front of her. She began to blindly pile her plate and gave Elliot a tight smile. “But yes, you are quite right, that is my friend. His name is August Leclaire.”
“Been friends for long?” Elliot asked, leading her towards the table where the punches and lemonades were housed.
“Yes, since we were children,” she told him. “We are practically kin.”
“Does he know that?”
Seylah jerked at the question and looked up at Elliot. “What?”
“I don’t mean to pry, but does Mister Leclaire know that you think of him as family?”
“Yes,” Seylah blurted out and then she winced, “I mean, I suspect so given that it is he who has the most…” her voice trailed off as she searched for the right words, “it is August who has the most familial feelings toward me.”
Elliot handed her a glass of punch. “I am not sure you’re correct in that estimation, Seylah.”
“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say, Elliot.”
“A man in possession of familial affection does not glare as Mister Leclaire does, and he certainly does not part the crowd like Moses on a mission to get here.”
“What are you talking about?”
Elliot nodded over her shoulder. “See for yourself,” he told her, taking a sip of his punch.
“I have no idea what you mean,” Seylah protested, but even so, she turned in the direction he had pointed her in and felt a spike of adrenaline when she saw that Elliot’s description was aptly used to describe August’s current trajectory, which wasn’t so much walking but marching across the square.
There was a determined set to August’s shoulders and chin that she had only ever seen when he was preparing to confront a particularly unsavory individual. What on earth had gotten into him and why was he on his way over to them?
“He must have business this way,” she finally concluded. “Beyond us, I mean.”
“If you say so,” Elliot said, and this time, there was no hiding the rueful smile. He took another sip of his drink and then said, “It’s quite all right, Seylah. I see now you did not know.”
“Know what?” She asked, her confusion mounting by the moment. She wasn't sure what to make of Elliot’s cryptic words