He sat there as Cassia cooked and cleaned, and told her more about dragons and dragon breeding and what happened to people who tried to rob dragon hoards than she thought she had ever needed to know. In return she answered the questionsabout girls that he didn’t want to ask his Gramma, like: could he ask out a girl if he saw her at an exhibition or a cattle auction, or did he actually have to talk to her first (if so, how)? And if he asked out a girl but she brought two friends along, was it still a date? And did he have to pay for the friends or just the girl? Also, if that girl got up and went to the necessary when her friends saidtheyneeded to go, did that mean anything or was it really just nature calling?
Cassia suspected these questions were connected, and not purely hypothetical. But Sorven didn't offer the information and she didn't press him for it.
Cassia didn’t mind Sorven’s company, even if he was a bit much. He was only a year younger than Rylan, but he seemed more youthful to her, as if Sorven hadn’t been half as aged by life. It was kind of nice having company. If nothing else, it helped keep her mind off things. As it was, her stomach wouldn’t stop hurting and her whole chest ached. Every time she remembered the kiss she found herself facing a flood of overwhelming, shameful emotions. A part of her desperately wanted to do it again. But her best chance of staying with the Rivekers was to move on from Aevrin entirely.
Aevrin
Tendays.Tendayswithout a real moment alone with Cassia.
He saw her, of course. Constantly. She was in the kitchen every morning, and at the dinner table at night. Sometimes they sat outside after dinner, but someone else in the family always seemed to be there, lowering themselves down into the rocking chair with a sigh just as Aevrin was getting ready to open his mouth and ask her to talk. He even tried showing up to breakfast early, but he was never there long before another family member walked in.
‘Early’ wasn’t good enough, he decided. So he forced himself out of bed in the pre-dawn black, and made it downstairs before even Cassia was awake. By the dim light of a glowstone he built up the fire and lit a real lantern. He was boiling water for grallo when Cassia rushed into the kitchen. Her hair was half-tied back, strands falling messily to frame her pretty face.
“Morning, Miss Cassia,” he’d said tentatively, wide awake though he’d gotten next to no sleep.
“Good morning. I’m so sorry. I must have slept in.”
“Naw,” he said. He gripped the back of one of the kitchen chairs tight and gulped. “You’re not late, I’m early.” He hadn’t meant to startle her or make the morning more difficult. He’d just thought maybe they’d finally have a chance to talk. He scarcely knew what to say now that he had her alone.I can’t stop thinking about you? I know I shouldn’t want you, but it hurts too bad?
“I hate to ask, but…” Cassia started, as she peered into the jar of powdered grallo, checking how much was left.
“Anything you need,” he said quickly, before she could even finish the sentence. Aevrin started rolling up his sleeves, expecting she’d ask him to chop something or start mixing up a batter. They could talk while they worked. He wouldn’t mind having something to do with his nervous hands.
Cassia shoved a chunk of the root into the grinder and began cranking the handle.
“Could you check the cockatrice pen?”
“Check it?”
“To see if there’s an egg today.” She was still pumping the hand crank.
He’d wanted to talk to her, not go outside while she kept working. But he couldn’t very well refuse to help her, not while she was hard at work, no matter how good his reasons. Twenty-five years of hard-learned manners from Gramma Prisca strictly forbade it.
“Oh. Right.” He sighed heavily, nodded, and turned. “Be right back, then.”
Kazeic was outside, drinking from the water trough. The dragon lifted his head to watch Aevrin approach in the dark, then made a friendly huff.
“You’rein a good mood,” Aevrin muttered, veering just off course to scratch the dragon’s cheek. Kazeic pressed his dripping, scaly maw up against Aevrin’s chest, the dragon’s eyes two dark smudges in the dim.
He felt his throat close at this slight affection, so unusual from the moody dragon. It wasn’t a rude shove or a plea for treats. They stood for a moment, dragon pressed to rider, Kazeic’s breath hot and his wings dragging sleepily on the ground.
“What, you finally starting to like me?” Aevrin whispered, gently scratching the middle of the drake’s forehead. “Yeah. Guess you’re not so bad yourself.”
Kazeic snorted, turned away, and bound off towards the herds. Shaking his head, Aevrin let himself into the cockatrice enclosure. A brief standoff with one of the hens, who wanted to knowwhythe human had come only to steal her eggs and not to feed her, ensued. By the time he was back, Gramma Prisca was in the kitchen, sitting at the table and sipping her grallo. Cassia took the egg from him with a smile that almost made it worthwhile, her hands brushing his as she took the weight into her own arms. Then everyone else was downstairs, and then they were all heading off to work, and Sorven had settled into the kitchen chair like he planned to spend all day there with Cassia, so Aevrin couldn’t even catch a moment alone with her on his way out the door.
Not withoutaskingher to talk, anyways. And for some reason that idea unsettled him. Aevrin didn’t want to force things. He’d just find a moment. Eventually. Unless she was activelytryingnot to be alone with him. That thought soured his stomach something awful. He jammed his hat on his head, shoved on his boots, and followed his father and Mavek outside.
It’s for the best, he tried telling himself, but no amount of common sense could stop him from wanting her.
There’d been no sign of the rustlers since Sorven’s accident, but there was still an endless amount of work to do. The cattle had to be moved between pastures to let the burn regrow. Calves needed to be weaned this time of year, and the best prospects identified and separated off from the others to start their training as mounts for the army. Breaking them to ride would be Aevrin’s job, once they got a little older, but for now it was just sorting, roping, moving; shuffling the cattle around like a deck of cards.
Mavek set to work moving one of the herds, riding on Tiny—normally Sorven’s job—while Cobrid and his drake, now riderless, swooped and dove from above to pinch the cattle from the sides. Aevrin and his father set to work on weaning. One by one they separated off the calves, getting bulky at eight months or so of age, and moved them into one of the cattle pens: a comfortable enclosure with stone walls located inside the larger pasture. This let the babies still see and hear their mothers while they got used to separation and eating solid food.
He’d done this work more times than he could count, and as he settled into a rhythm his thoughts landed on Cassia, like they’d been doing the last few days.Wasshe avoiding being alone with him? Surely he wasn’t that bad a kisser. And whyhadshe kissed him if she was going to get all odd about it after and regret it so much? It wasn’t like he’d forced himself on her. He’d been mighty careful not to.
Sure, he’d made the bet, but he’d agreed to let her win, even though there was nothing remotely exciting about plain custard.
He was on foot, taking a sip of grallo from his canister, when his father started screaming.
