“Didn’t you have a crush on that cobbler? We could go see her.”
Lighting up, Percy grinned. “You mean it?”
Rubbing his eyes, Eleos drained his cup, snapped his journal closed, and stood. “Let’s get going, Lady Aethra.”
Standing, I shouldered my bag, rubbing my sternum. Percy’s emotions had wormed their way into my heart, all too similar to my own.
Seth whirled around and caught my wrist. “The Guild favors this town. Stay with the scholar.”
Nodding, I gazed into his scarlet eyes. “Do you call yourself Burgundy Rose because of your eyes?”
“Seas, no.” Seth rubbed his neck. “I didn’t name myself. What do you take me for?”
“I don’t know. . . the winks, the smiles, all while being chased by guards? You seemed the type to bestow upon yourself a stupid name.” I slipped my hand from his grip. “Wear your mask.”
“Anything for a beautiful lady.” Seth winked at me before covering his eyes with a black mask and following Percy.
Holding open the door for me, Eleos exhaled when we stepped outside. “You know this city best. Lead the way.”
Dancing down the steps, I waited until the door slammed shut behind us. “Is Percy really that upset about Seth?”
“Yes. He’sdramatic,” Eleos said. “From what I’ve read of their minds, they were good friends. Percy thought they were partners in crime—the hero and his bard. Seth didn’t.”
“Oh.” I nodded. Suddenly, their relationship made perfect sense.
Eleos rubbed his chest. “Psyches’ emotions lift once we cease the spell. Muses . . . linger.”
“Hopefully not for long.” Retrieving my mask from my bag, I fitted it over my eyes, and Eleos quickly followed suit, covering his face with the owl-feathered mask.
Nobody thought twice about those concealed by masks. People donned them for every occasion—festivals, funerals, celebrations. Hidden behind a stony exterior, one could express their truest self and close their eyes, for only a moment, to the horrors of the world around us. Not unlike the Maiden, who sheltered, but did not save us, from the encroaching storm.
A useful tradition for those of us who needed to hide our faces.
Keeping my head down, I avoided passerbys’ gazes, though it didn’t seem many paid us a second glance. They probably assumed Eleos was a priest. I caught a few bowing their heads in respect out of the corner of my eye.
One man drew my attention: I noticed his dark boots slow as he drew near, and glanced up to see his simple tunic emblazoned with an unmistakable insignia: a chalice overflowing with golden water.
A Guild member.
Hoping it was a coincidence, I ignored him as we passed. He glanced over his shoulder at us, but continued on his way. Relieved, I released my held breath.
“Trouble?” Eleos asked quietly.
“I don’t think so,” I whispered back.
Hastening his steps, Eleos walked alongside me. “By the way, what did Seth talk to you about last night?”
“I think he was trying to apologize for holding me captive.”
“. . . forwhat?”
“Oh, you weren’t there,” I realized, chuckling, “He held me at knife point to escape the guards. Threatening to kill them with my blood if they attacked.”
I expected Eleos to find the story amusing, but his brows lowered and his eye twitched. “And Percy didn’t stop him?”
“What was Percy supposed to do? It was dark. I don’t think he realized it was his old friend.”
Eleos released an exhale lined with disgust. “Knowing Percy, he was too busy envying you.”
