I drag the woman into the next street before I let her go. “Are you lost?”
She brushes at her tunic. When she finally looks up, her big brown eyes draw me in like quicksand. Her long dark lashes make them look about three sizes larger. “Lost? No. Why would you say that? I am perfectly fine.”
She speaks with the cultured accent of the very rich. I can just about feel my pockets growing heavier. “You didn’t look fine back there. Not to worry. I’m here to help.”
She pulls her arm away. “You have been very helpful. Thank you. But now I really must go. May the sun shine gently upon you.” She turns to leave.
I leap into her way. “Wait! These streets are dangerous. You might not realize. Let me call you a chair.”
“No thank you.” She tries to get around me.
I’m too quick. The look on her face tells me I have about one more second before she screams. “Then I guess you know the stall that makes the best spun sugar in the kingdom.” It’s a guess. She’s a rich girl out alone, but she doesn’t seem scared. She probably should be.
Her mouth drops open, but then her full lips curve into a smile. “The best? That’s quite a bold claim.”
“Well perhaps you would care to test me.” I drop an elaborate bow, and when I straighten, her smile is bright.
“Perhaps I would.”
Still got it. I grin as I lead her through a back alley and out onto the main thoroughfare, talking about this and that. Vendors yell to catch people’s attention, and the crowds press us closer together again. She even smells good, my rich girl. Like spices and exotic flowers and fancy oils. I’ll charm her into leaving me with a tip yet.
I wonder what her story is and if I can coax it from her.
I lead her to my favorite stall, order the spun sugar, and even dish out the extra coin to have sugared petals sprinkled on top. I hold out the stick, and she plucks a pinch from it and sucks it from her fingers. For that whole moment I’m not thinking about anything except the way her lips wrap around her delicate fingers. A man with a deeply etched scowl on his face walks past, bumping me when I don’t get out of his way quickly enough. I hardly stumble. I hardly even notice.
Rich girl gives me an odd look. Coughing, I look away, stealing my own piece of sugar and trying not to think about how her lips would taste now, coated with sweetness from the treat. “Well, what do you think? I’m right, aren’t I?”
“Perhaps.” She smiles. “I need to try more.” She reaches for the stick.
Laughing, I hand it over and watch as she demolishes the whole thing, licking each finger afterward in a way that’s highly distracting.
By this point we have wandered down to the river, and I take a seat on a nearby bench, staring down at the pathetic trickle of water below. “So apart from sampling spun sugar and peeping at men in the bathhouse, what are you plans this evening?”
She perches next to me, close enough that I feel the heat from her thigh, though we’re not touching. “Just walking mostly. I do not um… I do not get out much, into the city, and it is beautiful.”
“It is?” I look around, wondering what she sees in the dried up river, the wilting gardens, the refuse, and the stray dogs.
She turns to me, and there’s no way the smile on her face is false. “Oh yes. All the people and the noise and excitement. Wonderful.”
I scoff. “Wonderful? It’s something. I’m glad you like it anyway.”
There’s a pause while we both look out over the river.
Rich girl laughs. “You made it sound like I was spying on the men in the bathhouse.”
“Weren’t you?”
She flushes, but she doesn’t look away. “Well, it was an honest mistake, but once I was inside, I could not help but look.”
That makes me laugh. “And did you like what you saw?”
She wrinkles her nose. “Most of them were old and withered.”
“Ah! Well morning is the time to go if that’s your purpose. That’s when all the buff young men visit. That’s when I go.” I curl one arm around to rest my elbow on my knee, showing off my muscles. Luckily there are none of the muscle-bound men who frequent the bathhouse gym in the mornings here for her to compare me against.
She gives me an appraising look. “I shall keep that in mind.”
There’s another pause in the conversion, and she licks the sugar stick until I have to take it from her so I can think.
