Nobody saw the pollen coming. That was the thing about airborne truth serum disguised as plant reproduction. It didn't announce itself. It just drifted in, settled on the tongue, and ruined lives.
Gavriel blinked. Pupils blown wide.
"Somebody tell her I'm in love with her—" He stopped. Started again. "Actually don't. Actually do. Actually, no, absolutely do not. Fuck. Gods."
Six people looked at him. He looked at the canopy. The canopy offered zero assistance.
"Wait, what?" Aeron asked.
"Nobody. Nothing. I didn't say anything. Moving on."
He had very clearly said something. The something was going to be examined later. The later was going to be a problem.
Hyran suddenly started talking.
"I rehearse every cutting remark I deliver. In advance. In a mirror. With gestures. And every ceremony. Sometimes I adjust the pacing between insults for maximum dramatic impact."
Hyran made a sound that was part outrage and part annoyance at his own mouth.
