She caught a peek of the water through an alley. “Can we go see the bay first before we eat?”
“Aren’t you starving?”
Her stomach rumbled on cue. “Yeah, but it’s right there. Can we please go?” She gave him her best persuasive smile.
Vade didn’t seem convinced, judging by the slow blink he gave her.
“Pretty please?” She dragged out the last word, making the fae roll his eyes.
“Fine,” he droned.
Orelia speed walked down the alley, and when she came out the other side, she was met by a sandy path cutting through a high section of rock. Without waiting for Vade, she darted down the path, unable to contain herself.
Her boots slipped across the silky surface, legs burning as she wound down toward the bay through the deep sand. The sound of water lapping against the shore made her pick up her pace.
When Orelia reached the shoreline, she sucked in a breath. The water sparkled in gold, reflecting all the lights of the city at her back and the lights of Carraba and Bellstown miles across the bay. She eagerly peered down into the water. Orelia felt the fae’s presence before she saw him.
“Disappointed?” he asked.
She sighed. “Well, there aren’t any gold coins on the floor of Goldbottom Bay.”
Vade chuckled. “I was disappointed too when I first saw it.”
“Why? Hoping to snatch up some extra money for yourself?”
Distant lantern light danced over his bronze face. His skin looked like it glowed from within and it made him appear kinder, even if it was only an illusion. “Only a few days together and you already know me well.”
They both chuckled, and Orelia went back to looking out at the bay. “It’s so beautiful.” Ships slowly made their way to port, and gold lines rippled across the water in the night. “Maybe they should call it Goldtop Bay instead.” She snickered, and looked to Vade for a reaction, but he was busy staring out at the water.
He seemed far away, pensive and lost in thought. She wanted to ask where his mind had gone but knew enough by now to know he wasn’t one to answer personal questions.
Orelia held up Bute’s jar so the frog could see, but he was back to hiding in the moss.
“This would be a good place to let him go,” Vade said, turning toward her.
“He isn’t ready yet. His leg still drags.”
Vade’s brows scrunched. “You’re really going to carry that frog around until he’s completely healed?”
“Of course. That’s why I put him in here in the first place. I’m not going to give up on him now before he’s ready.”
Vade scanned her face. “You can’t save everything, Orelia.” His hushed tone signaled perhaps he wasn’t just talking about the frog.
Everyone had told her the same thing her whole life. That it wasn’t her job to right the injustices of the world. She looked at Bute, his glistening eyes peeking out of the moss. The internal tug to help animals was the same one she felt for people. “Maybe you’re right, but I won’t accept that answer. I was put here to do everything I can to help, in whatever way, big or small.” She met Vade’s eyes. “So that’s what I’m going to do until the day I die.”
He nodded slowly. The despondent eyes looking back at her had seen violence and death, but Orelia could tell they’d seen something more painful than either.
Vade’s focus went to a strand of her hair lost to the balmy breeze. He reached for her, and she sucked in a breath. He paused, then dropped his hand.
“Kindness is a weakness.” His face bunched ever so briefly, like it pained him to say the words spoken so quietly she almost couldn’t hear them over the lapping water.
Orelia tucked her hair behind her ear, cheeks warm from the thought of him doing it for her. “It takes strength to be kind.”
Vade studied her again before seeming to realize how close he was standing to her. He took a step back, his tight-browed look returning. “Come on. I’m fucking starving.”
He led her into a place filled with rowdy men and women filling up tables in the large room, each one drunker than the next.
A woman with a head full of dark, curly hair stepped in front of them, three ales in each hand and a low-cut shirt she was spilling out of. She looked Vade up and down, batting her painted lashes. “Need a table or a room?”
