Cassian’s breath hitched, slightly startled. He pulled his eyes to the bowing performers on stage and joined in and clapped his hands.
The audience below began rustling and exiting the auditorium, all attempting to be the first out.
Now that the show was over, Cassian scrambled in his thoughts to plan what his next move would be. The box they were currently in was small and hidden, a perfect place to seize Finnian and curse him. Although, after his experience in the apothecary and the temple, he had a feeling the young god wouldn’t make things easy. There would certainly be damage and a scene that would alert the mortals in the theater.
And gods forbid there be an invisible sigil mapped out along the floor of the box. If he fell trapped in another one of Finnian’s magical antics, he was sure he’d strangle the young god this time.
Cassian let out a light sigh, unsure what to do to dissolve the knot tightening in his stomach.
He stood up in unison with Finnian, smoothing the wrinkles of his tailcoat.
“Which side of the city do you live on?”
Finnian’s question prompted Cassian to lift his head, blinking at him in bewilderment.
Was he asking out of concern, or purely out of suspicion? Cassian scoured the vacant look on his face for answers, to no avail.
“I am a traveler. Augustus is a mystery to me.” Cassian cleared his throat, fidgeting with the buttons of his tailcoat. He had never been any good at lying.
“Very well. I will show you around.” Finnian beckoned for him to follow as he started towards the exit of the box.
“Show me around?” Cassian’s hand lifted to sail his fingers through his hair, a way to exert some of his nervous energy. Midway, he halted and dropped his arm back down to his side, with Nathaira’s warning going off in his mind—don’t act like yourself.
Finnian waited at the threshold with crossed arms. The stance broadened the contours of his chest, the tan skin ofhis pecs visible between the unfastened buttons of his shirt. An incomplete outfit without a waistcoat or a tailcoat. It was considered ill-mannered and sloppy to wear nothing but a shirt—unbuttoned nearly down to his diaphragm at that.
“It would be rude of me to abandon my stalker,” he quipped.
Cassian’s cheeks flushed at the accusation. “I was not stalking you. I—” He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth.
Finnian cracked a wide smile. Dimples cut into the grooves of his cheeks. Crinkles drew beneath his eyes, glittering with amusement as he stared at Cassian. “What is your name?”
A flutter caught in Cassian’s chest. He replayed the young god’s question in his mind. His mouth opened to respond with his real name, but quickly caught himself as he remembered his altered appearance.
He thought quickly, recalling the inventory of souls in the past decade that had journeyed from this region of the Mortal Land for a common name.
“Everett,” he supplied.
“Nice to make your acquaintance, Everett. I am Finnian.” He pulled the curtain back, gesturing Cassian to step through with a flick of his chin.
Cassian straightened his shoulders and breezed past him. As he took a deep breath, the unmistakable scent of licorice and herbs filled his nostrils. It smelled partially of the beer and smoke from the tavern, but mostly of a garden—lemon balm, yarrow, ginger root.
Traveling down the long stairway lined with velour and golden stitching, he snuck glimpses of the young god at his side, noting how Finnian positioned himself with his left ear, absent of a magical crystal, to face Cassian as they walked.
Cassian could easily do it. Slip his hand underneath the low neckline of Finnian’s shirt. Release his divine power and infect the young god’s mind. It would be done in less than a second.Another deity cursed, another problem crossed off Cassian’s to-do list.
A thought that constricted his gut.
He clenched his jaws, irritated by his own indecisiveness.
Why couldn’t he do it?
He rubbed his chin to keep his hand from his hair as they emerged into the street. The cool gust of night whispered across his skin. The moon hung like an ornament in the starry-lit sky, silver and fat and glowing across the town. The streets were less busy. A quietness drifted amongst the distant hooves of traveling carriages.
Cassian couldn’t recall the last time he’d strolled in a land that wasn’t his own. It felt nice, refreshing even, to be someone else in another’s company.
A temporary ruse.
Before the night’s end, he bargained with himself. He would curse the young god before the night’s end. But not yet. Not right now.
