The Bronze Mage by Laurel Mojica

seen them. She wondered how his magic worked, but wasn't about to ask him. Not that he was likely to explain it. She skipped lunch and dinner as well, ostensibly to avoid James. She refused to admit there might be another reason.
    In retaliation, the maid was not allowed to fetch sticks for her and the manservant was forbidden to lend her his knife. Both of them thought she was insane for provoking the mage. Also, apparently in response to her fast,   the meals were becoming more elaborate and fragrant. There was always bread baking, stew simmering, strongly seasoned meat roasting, bowls of sliced fruit set out. She'd never known anyone to use cinnamon with such frequency, or cloves, or citrus. The castle cook would have been shocked by the rich fare.  
    With no walks and no practice weapons to make or use, no real conversation, and a constantly growing hunger, Tabitha's days were exceedingly long. Her chief entertainment became pelting James with random objects. She'd collect things from around the house or outside, then sit in one of the parlor chairs and try to hit him if he walked past. If he locked himself in his room, she'd throw them at his door, then collect them and throw them again.
    He still kept up his nightly ritual. She submitted to it in silence, since she'd already lost that argument their first night here. But the spellwork exacerbated her gnawing hunger.
    By the fifth day, Tabitha was miserable. In her whole previous life she'd never missed more than an occasional meal. Hunger seemed to define her now. She felt weak and cranky, and was beginning to wonder if James would allow her to starve herself to death. She wasn't sure she'd have the strength of will to find out. The smell of a potato soup flavored with bacon and chives was taunting her from the kitchen. Tabitha's stomach growled, then seemed to twist in a painful knot. She scowled down at it and tightened her grip on the acorns in her hands. The stem of one pressed painfully into her palm, but she welcomed any distraction from her hunger.
    Tabitha was sitting by the fireplace, waiting for James to come out for lunch. When he opened the door, she threw an acorn at him. He deflected it impatiently. She threw another. He lost his temper, exploding the small nut into dust and freezing Tabitha's muscles so tightly that she could hardly breathe. Her pulse raced as she realized she might have pushed him too far.
    "That is enough." His look was fierce, his voice stoney. He waited several heartbeats before he released her. Angry at her fear, Tabitha gulped a few breaths then threw another acorn defiantly. James's eyes flashed. Too calmly, he commanded, "Be nice."
    Tabitha felt light-headed. She looked around the room a little dazedly. Noticing James, she smiled. He regarded her expressionlessly and her smile faltered. She stood to walk over to him, confused by how weak and hungry she felt. Had she missed breakfast? And where were they? There didn't seem to be anyone else present except a maid. Was this James's house? That didn't seem right. As she approached he offered his arm, but he still wasn't smiling. Hesitantly, she took it, wondering why he was so grave. The room tilted violently.
    Tabitha found herself collapsed against James's chest and pushed away from him in a panic. She lost her balance, but he caught her, held her gently but firmly by both arms.
    "Either choose to be nice, or I'll choose for you," he said. His gaze was as cold and hard as ice.
    Tabitha's composure cracked and she burst into tears. Fighting against him was impossible. How could she win? She was never going to find her way home. James pulled her back into his chest and wrapped his arms around her, stroking her hair. After a few minutes, her sobs subsided into sniffles, but she was too weary to pull away from him.
    "I am not your enemy." He spoke quietly so only she could hear. "You must know that. Otherwise why would you think to hurt me by starving yourself? You made your point.