Then Joff spoke.
"My lady," he said, and for once, there was no sass in his voice. "With respect. Shut up."
I blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You're sitting here, in your garden, having a crisis, while your territory burns. And I get it. I do. This is scary. This is bigger than anything we've faced before. But you're Seraphine freaking Agro. You killed your uncle with your sass. You outsmarted the entire Maden court. You built a ward network that made the Grand Mage cry. Literally cry. I was there. I saw it."
"That was allergies."
"It was respect." Joff stepped forward, his soot-covered face fierce in the firelight. "You're not out of your depth. You're just in a new situation. And you know what you do in new situations?"
"I panic and drink coffee?"
"No. You adapt. You learn. You find a way." He crossed his arms. "That's what you do. That's what you've always done. So stop feeling sorry for yourself, stop waiting for a goddess to save you, and start *doing* something."
