And if heweregoing to kiss me... I would want to appreciate the full experience of it. Not like this.
Can I muffle sound? Great question; not something I’ve ever tried before. Sages tend to use our magic for purposes that align with the source of our power.
But if I am angry that I can’t manage to walk down a city street without being overwhelmed, angry that my life never prepared me for something so mundane—angry that my tutors isolated me to the point that without external intervention, without walls between me and the people I ostensibly served, Ican’tengage with people directly—
There.Okay, I can do it. However—
“I don’t have a shortcut for that usage,” I whisper back. “I would need to do a full kata. But if I do—”
“Then everyone will know that you’re a sage. Dammit.” Zan leans back just enough so he can look me in the eye, the intensity in his gaze in full force giving me life. “New plan. Can you stay with me? We’re going to a café that will be quieter, but we’ll have to cross through the crowd.”
The initial shock is wearing off, so I think so, but— “Can I hold your hand?” I ask quietly.
I look away, my cheeks heating.
It’s so stupid that I can’t walk through a street full of people. Maybe I could if I really tried hard enough—maybe I’m already relying on him too much, because I want to hold his hand even though I know he’s not at ease about it—
Zan takes one of my hands.
My gaze flies back to his.
“Always, Yora,” Zan says in a rough voice.
Whoa. What doesthatmean?
I didn’t make up his hesitation to touch me before, so what in the world—
Zan turns, keeping hold of my hand in his and pulling me through the open-air market.
This time, the sound sort of washes around me. Rather than trying to process all the sights and scents, I pass through them like water, Zan’s warm hand like a beacon as I fix my gaze on the back of his head and just follow.
Then he opens the door to a shop, and as soon as it closes behind us the world quiets.
My shoulders relax, and it feels like a weight has lifted off of my mind. I hadn’t even realized how tense I still was.
Zan leads me to a table and chairs, and I sit gratefully.
“I’m sorry,” Zan says, frustration audible. “I didn’t think—”
I shake my head. “Don’t be. It should have occurred to me, I just... didn’t really conceive of what a bigger Crystal Hollow would mean for me.”
“I knew, though,” Zan said, “I should have—”
“You’re not responsible for thinking of everything in advance,” I interrupt him a little testily. “Sometimes you have to adapt to circumstances, and we did. Where are we?”
Zan pauses for a moment, like he’s unwilling to accept my rejection of his culpability.
Too bad. He’s been trying to bear the weight of justice for an entire empire on his shoulders for half a millennium on his own. I’m not going to let him bear evenmorethat isn’t his fault.
“It’s called Respite Café,” Zan finally says. And then adds dryly, “A lot of trendy businesses here have named themselves for The Quiet.”
My lips quirk in amusement.
He gestures to the side, where large windows enable us to see the outside, but not hear it.
With a barrier between me and the market, I can appreciate how... charming it is. It’s fucking cute and quaint as shit. There’s a wide area in the middle where people have set up stalls full of personality, and the shops on the surrounding streets look like they belong in a painting, not real life.
What business does a person like me, who can break anything she touches, have in a place like this?
