Carver couldn’t lie about that topic convincingly enough. There was a part of him, a specific part of him, that very much wished to resolve the sexual tension. Because it was definitely there. And it was driving him crazy.
Her constantly bickering with him wasn’t helping either. If it was up to him, he’d kick her off this assignment. He was a spy. He’d figure out how to get in and get out without her. She was an accessory he didn’t need. A distraction he didn’t need.
They joined the masses of people who were wandering towards the center of town for the festival. As frustrated as he was with Clara, he was grateful their cover forced her to hold his hand. Otherwise, he was certain they would have been separated already. People crowded around them, bumping and knocking as they got closer to the center.
“What do you think we’ll see?” Clara asked, her voice barely discernible over the din of people.
“I’m not sure.” He practically shouted back. Then whispering against her ear, “Hopefully something that helps us.” She smelled nice, and he immediately regretted whispering.
She nodded though, unaware of the way his heart was pounding from his foolish action.
They reached the first set of vendors, and the stream of people seemed to separate as they dispersed towards the activity or vendor they were here for. The noise, however, only increased. The vendors shouted out their wares, everything from shell jewelry to what looked like…preserved body parts?
They paused at that table, and the vendor proudly displayed a dried finger that ended in a claw. “It’s from one of the wolf-men that died. Authentic. It’ll bring you good luck!”
Clara looked like she was going to be sick, and Carver felt just as disgusted. “How will a dead man’s finger bring good luck?”
The man drew back and gave him a dirty look, “It’s not a deadman’sfinger. It’s from one of the wolf-men. They’re not human.”
“What do you mean they’re not human?” Carver tried his best to keep his tone casual, but he wasn’t doing a great job.
The man looked overly frustrated at having to answer, especially since by now he’d realized they weren’t about to buy anything. “They’re creatures. They can’t be a creature and be human. It’s the finger of acreature.”
The emphasis on the word pissed Carver off. Marsh had filled them in on what little she knew about the creatures, and he knew these “creatures” were only genetically modifiedhumans. But they were still human. Somewhere, at some point, before these atrocities were committed against them. It wasn’t their fault science decided they could mess with them.
“No.” Clara snapped at the man. Carver squeezed her hand, inwardly begging her to keep their cover and not be far more outspoken than a Calyndor girl would be. He saw the anger flare in her eyes and knew his hopes were absolutely worthless. “They’re not creatures. They’re human beings that were altered by a psychopathic scientist with a god-complex.”
The vendor looked her up and down, stroking his gray beard as he examined every inch of her. Carver resisted the urge to pull her behind him. “Girlie, I don’t know who you think you are,but you have no idea what you’re talking about. I suggest you move on and keep your mouth shut before you get yourself into trouble. No one around here cares about the emotional words of a Calyndor girl.”
Clara opened her mouth to give what Carver was sure would be a vehement rebuttal, but he pulled her away before she could. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to him so he could keep her from fighting back.
“Keep your girl under control!” The vendor shouted at them as they walked away, causing Clara to struggle harder against him.
“We can’t fix anything if we get arrested or kicked out of the city.” He hissed in her ear as they walked away.
She reared against him, catching his chin with the back of her head and making him lose his grip on her. “Dang it, Clara.” He muttered, grabbing his chin.
“Don’t try that kind of crap again.”
He grabbed her wrist, spinning her back towards him. He knew his grip was harsh, but she didn’t shirk away, just glared at him. “The assignment first.” He reminded, leaning into her personal space.
She looked up at him, and he wished for the thousandth time that things could be different. “Don’t assume I am incapable of following that on my own. I don’t need your help to maintain my cover.”
He scoffed, “Yeah, you do. You almost blew it with a vendor.”
“Just leave me alone.”
“Can’t do that.” He held up her left hand, “You’re my wife, remember?”Mine.
“If our kingdom wasn’t at stake I’d have slit your throat by now.”
“Then I guess I should be grateful everything is as dismal as it is. Shall we continue?”
Clara let him pull her forward, and once again slipped into her silence. Carver was relieved. He didn’t want to spend the entire day fighting when they could be collecting information and preparing for what was coming. All of their attention needed to be focused on the future. Not squandered in their meaningless conversations.
They passed more vendors, and Clara paused to examine a delicate gold necklace with a small red jewel on it. It would look beautiful on her. He thought about buying it for her, or at least offering to buy it for her. He decided any attempts at kindness would be thrown back in his face. He was worn out enough as it was.
A large crowd was gathered around a massive glass cage. They waited until a group walked away and wove to the front where they could see. He tightened his hand over Clara’s, and she didn’t pull away. If the man’s words earlier sickened her, he could only imagine what the sight before them was doing to her.
