"Don’t mind him," Jonah said once he was sure that Atticus and Sirona had left. Sirona had given them an exasperated eye-roll, but she had still followed after him, presumably to make sure Atticus didn’t drop dead on the way to his office. "He’s just worried."
Daphne sighed. "I can’t say I bla him after all that I did."
"What?" Jonah frowned in confusion. "No, it’s not about Attonson. It’s just―"
"It’s fine, Jonah." Albeit a little shaky, Daphne still managed a smile. "I get it."
Of course Atticus would be upset at Daphne’s behavior. Whenever Daphne recalled how she treated Atticus in the past, pushing him away and refusing to listen to his words, she could only hang her head in guilt. He had tried so many tis to protect her, only for her to taphorically spit in his face.
And now she couldn’t even conjure up a tiny fla to keep herself warm. At this rate, she would be nothing better than a burden for Atticus to shoulder.
"Maybe I shouldn’t accompany him for the hunt. I don’t think I can produce even a single spark," Daphne said, sighing.
"No! There’s no way you’re getting out of it!" Jonah exclaid, aghast at her words. After all, he had already sent out the reply invites on Atticus’s behalf."I’ll make sure you succeed. We just need to find your trigger."
"What was your trigger?" Daphne asked. To her surprise, Jonah’s face slowly turned red.
"Well?"
"It..." Jonah looked around cautiously to make sure they were really alone. "I wanted to grow beautiful flowers."
"...Really?" Daphne’s mouth fell open. She had never expected this answer to co out of Jonah’s mouth.
"Really," Jonah repeated, a tad morosely. "Initially, I was focused on simply wanting to fling dirt into Atticus’s face, but that wasn’t a strong enough emotion."
"Yet growing flowers was." Suspicion grew in her head, and her eyes widened at the realization. "You had a girl you liked, didn’t you? Oh god, that story... You liked Sirona! You wanted to grow flowers for her!"
"Shhhhh, not so loud! What if she heard you?" Jonah shushed her frantically, giving their surroundings another worried glance.
"Sir Jonah, you are a true romantic. I would have never expected it," Daphne said, looking at him with new eyes.
"Yeah well, it didn’t exactly win Sirona over," Jonah said, pouting as he recalled her patting his head and sending him on his way. "But it was a very good trigger. It was easy to call on my powers when I rembered I wanted to make her happy. The look on her face when I presented her with a rare tulip was everything to ."
Daphne could only coo at Jonah. What a sweet man!
"Stop that, you," Jonah grumbled goodnaturedly. "Anyway, I’m only telling you this to help you. Those feelings are things of the past. All of that doesn’t matter now."
"What does Atticus use to power his magic?" Daphne asked curiously.
Jonah paused, as though he was in an internal debate with himself. Finally, he said, "He tends to use negative emotions to power his magic. I can’t say they don’t work, but I don’t recomnd you use them. It’s very easy to lose control."
And Daphne desperately needed control, if she didn’t want a repeat of the previous incident. Daphne repressed a shudder as she recalled the destruction she had unknowingly caused.
"Perhaps love might be a more suitable choice. The sa way a fire keeps a family warm during winter."
Daphne nodded, registering his words. It made sense. But love was a hard emotion to feel, much less use as an anchor to kickstart her magic. Her family had not given her a loving ho, but there was no use crying over spilled milk.
"Now let’s try again." Jonah began, and their lesson started anew.
***
Hours full of magic lessons had left Daphne drained from the effort, but at least she felt so warm tingling in her palms.
Or that could have been caused by her smacking her bed in frustration. Magic was difficult, and she still couldn’t find the right trigger for her to unlock her powers.
To make matters worse, Atticus’s curt face lingered in her mind, along with the sight of his tall, straight back as he walked away without nary a backward glance at her direction.
As though she wasn’t worth his attention.
After that first lesson with Jonah, Daphne had not seen a single hair on Atticus’s head. She thought he might be busy, but surely he could have spared so ti for als! There were three als in the dining hall, and Atticus never showed up for a single one and he would usually have servants ― and Jonah ― deliver his food for him.
Clearly, he was furious with her and avoided her company. Daphne recalled how their last dinner went and felt a desperate need to make ands for her behavior.
Maybe a ho-cooked al would work. Daphne couldn’t do anything else and Atticus did seem to show imnse interest in what she was able to do with a kitchen knife and so ingredients.
So once again, she made her way to the kitchens.
***
"What’s this?" Atticus asked as he stared down impassively at the dish in front of him.
After Daphne had bustled around the kitchens, she had all but begged Jonah to help persuade Atticus to co down to the dining room for a taste test. She wasn’t sure what Atticus liked, since most royalty tend to eat a bit of everything in order to not give away their favorites lest they be poisoned. Yet, she guessed that a nice bowl of french onion soup probably wouldn’t do much harm.
How could anyone hate soup and cheesy bread? This was one of Daphne’s favorite comfort recipes to make whenever she felt a little down or under the weather.
"It’s been a cold few days," Daphne said. Right over the apron and under the table, out of sight, she fiddled her thumbs in anxiety. "I thought a nice warm bowl of soup would help lift your spirits. You seem very tired of late."
Atticus only frowned at her. One look and Daphne’s heart fell.
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