Lorenth takes two, handing me one. "To chaos," he says, his mouth quirking.
I laugh despite myself, raising my glass to clink against his. "To chaos."
The wine is sweet and effervescent, bubbles dancing across my tongue. I can taste roses and something citrus, and underneath it all, a warmth that spreads through my chest like liquid courage.
We drink in silence, but it's not uncomfortable. It's the kind of quiet that feels intentional, like we're both savoring something we know won't last.
Around us, the festival continues its revelry. Couples lean into each other, some already kissing in shadowed alcoves. Thaliverns drift through the air, their pink wings leaving trails of shimmer that cling to hair and skin. The incense thickens, wrapping around us in waves that smell of jasmine and cinnamon and something darker, more primal.
I finish my wine, and Lorenth takes the glass from my hand, setting it aside on a nearby ledge without breaking eye contact. His hand finds mine again, and we keep walking.
We pass a booth where a Nashai woman reads fortunes in scrying bowls, another where lovers can commission temporary bond marks—delicate silver tattoos that fade after a week. I stare at those longer than I should, watching as a xaphan woman gets a vine of roses traced along her collarbone while her partner holds her hand.
What would it feel like to have something like that? To wear a mark that says you belong to someone, that someone belongs to you?
"Senna." Lorenth's voice is closer now, his breath warm against my ear. "You're thinking too hard."
I turn toward him, and realize how close we're standing. Close enough that I can see the individual threads of silver woven through his navy tunic. Close enough to count his eyelashes, dark and thick beneath the edge of his bird mask.
"Sorry." I'm not sure what I'm apologizing for.
"Don't be." His free hand comes up, cupping my jaw, his thumb brushing across my cheekbone. "I like watching your mind work."
Heat crawls up my neck, and I'm grateful for the mask hiding part of my face. But he can probably see it anyway—the flush spreading across my skin, the way my pupils dilate when he touches me.
"Lorenth—"
"Say it again." The command is soft, almost pleading.
"Lorenth." His name tastes good in my mouth. Feels right.
His eyes drop to my lips, and my breath catches. The world narrows to just this—his hand on my face, mine clutched in his other palm, the space between us shrinking until there's barely any air left.
He's going to kiss me.
I want him to kiss me.
My husband would kill me, and I think it might be worth it to know what it's like to actually feel wanted just once.
I tilt my chin up, heart hammering against my ribs, and his mouth is inches from mine when?—
"Well, well." A voice cuts through the moment, bright and amused. "What do we have here?"
Lorenth tenses, his hand falling away from my face, and I blink as he guides me toward the source of the interruption. A booth I hadn't noticed before, draped in white silk that seems to glow faintly in the lantern light.
Behind it stands a Nashai woman, pale gold skin luminous, her bright eyes fixed on us with unsettling intensity. Her whitewings are massive, arching above her in elegant curves, and her hair falls in intricate braids adorned with prayer beads that click softly when she moves.
"Serai." Lorenth's voice is tight, controlled, but I catch the edge of frustration beneath it.
"Lorenth Varyon." She grins, revealing teeth that are just slightly too sharp. "I didn't expect to see you here. Especially not looking like that."
"Like what?" He steps closer to the booth, pulling me with him, and I try to make myself smaller under the weight of her stare.
"Like a man who's actually enjoying himself." Serai's gaze shifts to me, and her smile widens. "The night has been successful for you both, I see."
I frown, confusion cutting through the haze of attraction. "What do you mean?"
She tilts her head, studying me with those unnerving eyes, and then looks back at Lorenth. "You don't feel it yet?"
