The seamstress had several ready-made items that would work, and since they had time, they remained in the shop while the seamstress made some alterations for a better fit. Vera assisted, since she had the necessary skills. She knelt before Sarah and chatted with the little girl as she pinned her dress, and Venn couldn’t look away. Vera had always been a little reserved, but as she worked, she showed such quiet confidence. And she was free with her smiles as she talked with Sarah. It made him remember all the times she had smiled at him. How she had once been comfortable with him.
Things had been different since Ivonne’s death. But, he realized, they were also different after being reunited in Krid. While she may not love him, she relied on him. Considering the painful things Vera had endured, he was honored to have her confidence.
He was just selfish enough to want more.
When they finally made their way back toward the inn, they came upon the teeming village center. Mortisians and Devendrans—even some Zennorians—were bustling in the open square, buying and selling wares, playing games, and eating all manner of fruits, nuts, and cooked foods.
The air was rich with celebration, and Sarah—wearing her newly altered pink dress—tugged at Venn’s hand. “Can we stay?” she asked, looking eagerly toward a cart with cinnamon pastries.
Venn shared a brief look with Vera before he nodded. “I don’t see why not.”
Sarah gripped his hand and Finn stayed close as they entered the busy square. Purple ribbons stretched over the square and lanterns glowed to keep the coming night at bay. Music, food, games were everywhere. The lively festival was just the sort of distraction the children needed.
As Venn licked a sticky glaze from his fingers—the remnants of the cinnamon pastry—he couldn’t help but smile. Watching Finn and Sarah play some of the simple games warmed his heart, and to hear Vera laugh . . . it was exactly what they’d needed. The children were actually enjoying themselves as children should, and Vera seemed just as happy. It made Venn’s stomach tighten, because her smile was the most beautiful thing in Eyrinthia.
Their dinner appeared to be the popular fare of the celebration: smoked meats and brightly-colored vegetables and peppers skewered on sticks, which they ate while perched on a long bench near the musicians.
When the stars began to wink in the sky and the lanterns burned brightly, people started to dance in the middle of the square.
Sarah grabbed Venn’s hand. “Can we dance?”
Her enthusiasm brought out his own. “Of course!” He tugged the giggling girl to her feet and held one of her hands as he twirled her, making her new pink skirt spin. He was aware of Vera watching him, and her gaze heated his blood. He was far too aware of her. He had to push back his desire to snatch her close and kiss her.
Fates, he wasn’t good at this slow seduction. If not for the children constantly with them, he probably would have acted on one of his impulses by now—and probably would have scared her away in the process.
Finn clapped in time with many of the others who watched the dancers, but when Venn ducked and whispered in Sarah’s ear, the little girl ran to her brother and tugged him up. “Dance!” she laughed.
Finn dragged his feet a little, but soon he was grinning as he and Sarah danced, jumping to the lively music.
Venn joined Vera on the bench, and together they watched the children.
Vera held Rebecca in her sling, and her foot tapped absently along with the music. “This was a good idea,” she said quietly. “They needed this.”
“I think we all did,” Venn said.
She nodded, her eyes a little distant. “It’s a good reminder,” she said. “That not all Mortisians are like Salim and Tariq.”
Just the names made him tense, but he tried to keep his reaction from her.
He must have succeeded, because when she looked to him, she was smiling. “You’re very good with them, you know. You’ll make an incredible father one day.”
“Do you think so?”
“Of course.” She lifted an eyebrow. “You don’t agree?”
“It’s not that.” He ran a hand over his head, rustling loose strands of hair that had escaped the hasty bun at the nape of his neck. “I’ve never really thought I’d be good at that,” he finally admitted. “Being a father. Because I didn’t grow up with one. I know how to be a brother, an uncle, a bodyguard.” He shot her a rueful half smile. “I guess I just thought that’s all I’m good for.”
“You’re far more than just those things,” she said softly. “You’re perfect, Venn.”
The intensity in her gaze stunned him as much as her words. The glow of the lanterns easily illuminated her slow blush, and a strand of soft blonde hair swayed against her cheek in the gentle breeze.
He moved without thought, brushing the stray tendril back and curling it behind her ear.
He swore she shivered at his light touch, and when her eyes darted to his . . . the heat was unmistakable.
His heart pounded. She wasn’t indifferent to him.
He still had a chance.
