With the carriage's glass walls, we could eat at the table and still enjoy a view of the city. But beyond it being a Tytra city, I knew nothing about it.
“Where are we?” I asked Taroc.
“Myar on the continent of Xae Gant,” he said.
“Xae Gant?” My eyes went big.
Taroc grunted. “The Tytra region. Obviously.”
“Obviously,” I murmured. Then, in a louder voice, “Is this where you grew up?”
“Myar?” He lifted his dark brows. “No. I'm from a small village up north, along the coast.”
“A coastal village? You don't strike me as a sea lover.”
“My people are said to have saltwater in our veins.”
“The Cerulean Clan?”
He nodded. “Scales as blue as the Sanuve Sea.”
“But doyoulove the sea?”
Taroc grinned as if I had impressed him. “At best, ours is a turbulent affair.” He sighed and looked out across the city. “My parents were merchants. I wanted a different life. That's why I moved here when I was old enough to leave home.”
“Ah. So you did live here.”
“For a while.” Taroc's gaze drifted down to the city. “It's beautiful at night. The street lamps are open flames.”
“Maybe we could come back another time?”
“When you're ready to have dinner with me?” He smirked as he looked back at me. “Maybe next time, I'll carry you myself.”
“As a dragon?” I asked eagerly.
“Would you like that?”
“I think I would. Although, you wouldn't have to carry me. I can fly.”
“Maybe I want to carry you.”
“Maybe I want that too.” I grinned back at him. “What do you look like? I mean, beyond being blue.”
“You'll have to wait and see.” He winked at me.
“Tease.”
“Hardly.” Taroc stood up, grabbed his glass of wine and a bowl of strawberries, then went to sit on the bench across from me.
I quickened the pace of my eating.
“Don't do that,” he said. “Relax. We have another half an hour up here at least. Enjoy your food.”
“All right.” I slowed down. Swallowed. Sat back and took a sip. “This food is amazing. I like the pie. The crust is layered and flaky, but not crumbly. Perfect for holding the meat filling. And the sweet dusting of stuff on top goes strangely well.”
Taroc grinned. “It's a special Tytra pastry. They roll it so thin, you can see through it. Then it's brushed with oil before many sheets are layered to create a single crust.”
“That's why it's crispy but not crumbly.” I nodded. “And they use it in dessert too?” I peered at a plate of sweets that appeared to be made of the same light and flaky pastry.
