She looked toward the door, then back to her companion. “Remember that woman sitting at the table near us at dinner?”
“Yeeesss.”
“She was wearing purple and yellow. The others with her were dressed in blue.”
“Yeeesss.”
“I smell blue as well.”
Nina’s eyes opened wide. “Mara—”
“Look, I’m not making this up. The blue tastes like . . . I don’t know. Fresh air?”
Nina burst into quiet laughter. “I could have guessed that. Gosh, Mara, what do you think ‘brown’ tastes like? Dirt? Or perhaps—”
“Don’t say it,” Mara warned.
Nina giggled.
In spite of her frustration, the Oathtaker grinned. “I was hoping maybe—chocolate.”
Nina laughed.
“And there’s something else. It’s a delicate scent. It’s not a color.”
“Maybe it is chocolate. Or ‘brown,’ I mean.”
“Stop it. I’m serious. You know that woman at dinner? She kept looking at me. That’s why I suggested we rush.”
“But people do not smell color. And they don’t taste it either.”
“Well maybe Oathtakers do!” Mara growled in response.
Nina looked deeply into her eyes. “You really are serious.”
“Of course I am.”
“All right. So what does it mean?”
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