“You’ll need to get me a lot of this tea.”
Anoor nodded. “I can get you some, but you’ll have to be careful with the amount you take. Verd leaf is a drug in itself; it mimics the effects of the joba seed to a much lesser extent. It’ll help control the spasms and nausea, until you can cope without it.” Anoor met her stare.
For the Sandstorm, and all the Dusters in oppression.
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
“What’s that?” Sylah pointed to the box under Anoor’s letters.
“Oh, of course, this is for you.” Anoor handed her the box as if it were the most precious thing in the world. There was a green bow on the top, hastily stuck on with tree gum.
Sylah tore the box open and threw the lid to the side.
“The first row are coffee, the second whiskey, and the final row, they’re stuffed with plantain. Those ones are my favorites.”
“You got me chocolates?”
Anoor took her confusion for gratitude. “To thank you, for becoming my teacher. My grandmother had a teacher too, you know, she managed to convince the general of the army to train—”
“You capture me, lock me in your wardrobe, shave my head, then buy me chocolates? And you want me to do what with them?”
“Eat them, silly.”
“But they’re mine, so I can do whatever I would like?”
“Sure.”
Sylah put her fist into the box and crushed the chocolates in her hand, their fillings seeping between her fingers. With deliberate slowness she smeared the chocolate down the dresses she was wearing.
Anoor looked on in horror, and tears filled her eyes. She didn’t deserve the self-pity; if anyone in that room did, it was Sylah.
Sylah repeated this until there was only one chocolate left. A plantain one. She licked her lips and put it in her mouth. She’d never had chocolate before. Dusters couldn’t afford it. There wasn’t even a shop that sold chocolate across the river, much less a box this big. Sylah couldn’t fathom how many times she’d have to fight in the Ring to get enough slabs to buy one. Here Anoor was buying it like it was nothing, gifting it to Sylah like it would right all the wrongs.
It coated her tongue with a velvety sweetness that was all at once sickly and instantly addictive. Part of her wished she hadn’t wasted the rest, but the hurt in Anoor’s eyes was worth it.
Like chocolate could ever make up for the life Anoor had stolen from her.
“You’re right, these are delicious.” Sylah smiled for the first time in days. The cut in the corner of her mouth split open. But she no longer needed to hide her blood. She was in a nest of Embers, and for once she wasn’t the one out of place. “Where’s your privy? I’d like to freshen up.”