The sound did something oddly warm to her insides. When she pushed her hair out of her face, Vade tracked the movement, and his smile faded when his eyes landed on her neck. On their walk today she could occasionally feel his hand like a phantom grip. Orelia’s fingers lingered on her throat as he watched her.
“You hit a nerve the other day. In the river,” he said softly.
She leaned away slightly, but he pressed her back to him with a hand on her spine. “But I . . .uhh . . .shouldn’t have done that. It’s been a while since I’ve been around another person for a lengthy amount of time.”
Orelia didn’t know how to interpret the look in his eyes. Neither apologetic nor insincere, just a stare that seemed . . .uncertain. Uncertain of what, she didn’t know.
“It’s okay,” she said.
Vade opened his mouth like he was about to speak but decided against it. If this was him trying to apologize, she’d take what she could get. He cleared his throat. “You’re good now?”
“Yeah. I’m good.” She looked down, but the fear wasn’t there. “Just don’t drop me.”
“I doubt I even could with how tight your grip on my neck is.”
Orelia loosened her hold, revealing bright red marks on his skin. “Oh, shit! I’m sorry.”
Vade let go of her briefly and she yelped before he caught her again.
“That’s not funny!” Orelia smashed her cheek against his. “Now I’m definitely not letting go of you. I don’t want to splatter on the ground like a bug.”
His sultry laugh rumbled in her chest, making her breath hitch. Vade slid his arm further around her waist. He tangled the fingers of his other hand in her hair as he pulled her closer.
Her heart thundered as she breathed in his forest and woodsmoke scent. Orelia was too afraid to pull back and let him see the way his laugh and touch affected her. She blamed the sensations merely on their proximity, but a part of her didn’t want him to let go. She tried not to dwell too long on what that might mean.
Smooth lips brushed her ear. Vade’s rough, masculine voice made her skin heat, “Time to go back.”
His wings snapped straight up and froze. They plummeted into a free fall, and Orelia screamed the whole way down.
eleven
When Vade said theywere half a mark’s walk from Ricaboro, Orelia’s elation bubbled over. She’d asked him so many questions about what to expect that he’d finally stopped answering.
Standing on the hill overlooking the city draped in the colors of dusk, Orelia had no words. She could faintly make out two ships headed to sea and one with maroon sails entering the harbor. The bay sparkled and twinkling lights decorated the shoreline, beckoning her to come see.
The dirt path turned into cobblestones when they entered the southern edge of the city. Trees were replaced by buildings of every shade of brown, but it was the music that called to her first. Beautiful string instruments welcomed them into Ricaboro with an upbeat tune, accompanied by singing, dancing, and laughing. People sat on window ledges, legs swinging over the side, watching others meander through the streets.
And gods, thesmells. Orelia inhaled deeply, scenting everything wonderful that wasn’t fish, like it would have been in Minro. Spices, smoked meats, sugary fruits, and scents entirely foreign to her.
“Light Above, it smells divine.” Her eyes were so wide she could hardly take it all in. Even Bute had emerged from his moss ball and was looking out the side of the jar like he was just as captivated by it all.
They passed a group of dwarves sloshing their ale, enthralled by a bard gesturing wildly with his hands as he told an outlandish tale. Humans, rens, and stivs filled the streets, loitering at market carts and relaxing on benches set along the main road. Pointed ears, round ears, fighting leathers, dresses, robes, and weapons of all kinds were present.
The stiv she was watching began cackling. The white, rectangular tattoo under his right eye that all stivs were born with caught the light as he playfully shoved a ren’s shoulder.
“I thought rens and stivs despised each other,” she said to Vade, who walked beside her with his hands resting on his weapons belt. After The White War, both races had returned to their opposite corners of the world, and a barrier of hatred had gone up between them.
“Most do,” Vade said. His tone was calm, posture stiff. “Keep close and watch your pockets. These streets are full of people looking for any sign of weakness, so stay sharp.”
She pressed her hand to her hip, feeling the six silver still tucked inside her skirt pocket. Vade had told her to always store money on her person, never in something she was carrying.
A group of Watchers patrolled the area, their pastel eyes ever-alert. The batalins towered over the crowd, and their weapons were even larger than the greatswordVade carried.
The village Watcher in Minro was a pudgy batalin who was usually finding the bottom of a glass in Shaley’s Tavern instead of patrolling and keeping Minro safe. Nothing like the batalins she was looking at now.
They were in impeccable shape, with arm muscles so big that sleeves could not contain their limbs. She noted the plethora of shiny gold rings lining their spiral horns like bracelets. Out of the four of them, the blue female had the most.
“What are those rings around their horns?” Orelia asked.
