He trots up to me, then turns and walks backward as I make my way down the busy wharf toward the brightly lit tavern. “I’ve almost enough coin to buy an apartment.”
“Congratulations.”
He stops walking, forcing me to stop in turn, and cants his head toward me, eyes shimmering like the stars above. “I’m not jesting, Fallon.”
“And I wasn’t either. I’m genuinely thrilled for you.”
“I meant about my marriage proposal.” The scent of brine and fish scales lifts from the triangle of bronzed skin peeking out from his shirt’s open collar.
“You only want to marry me because I refuse your advances.”
He spears one hand through the thick honeyed locks dusted in sea salt that curl around his rounded ears. “I want to marry you because you’re by far the prettiest and kindest girl in all of Luce.”
My fingers tighten in the heavy folds of my maroon dress. “Flattery won’t get me to say yes, Antoni.”
“What will, then? Pearls? I’ll brave the serpents in Mareluce to bring you jewels, if that’s what it takes.”
The corners of my mouth dip because he sounds serious. “I’d prefer you don’t end up trapped in their lair.”
Although I haven’t swum since the fateful day in the Harbor Market, when no one watches, I comb my fingers through the canal’s brisk waters and murmur the name I gave the pink serpent Nonna scarred.
Unfailingly, he comes.
Yes.He. Males are larger than females, and Minimus is huge, which is unfortunate considering the moniker I chose for him.
“A new dress, then? I’ll commission the merchant who sells the finest silks in Tarecuori.”
“My love cannot be bought, Antoni. It must be won.”
“And how does one go about winning your love, Fallon?”
A military gondola accosts the wharf. I cannot help myself from checking for Dante, but he isn’t amongst the six men who disembark. The strings of faelight illuminating the docks reflect on the gold buttons of their uniforms and the earrings lining their peaked ears. My gaze locks on one familiar face—Cato.
The white-haired Fae comes often by our house. I think he comes for Nonna whom he trails with his eyes every chance he gets, but she insists he only drops by to spy for my grandfather. Justus Rossi may not want anything to do with us but keeps tabs nonetheless.
Antoni makes a sound low in his throat. “A uniform? Should’ve guessed.”
I return my attention to the fisherman. “What about uniforms?”
“Nothing.” He backs up, lips tight on his handsome, sun-bronzed face. “Have a pleasant evening, Fallon.” And then he’s jogging back toward his friends.
I frown at his retreating figure. What did he mean about uniforms? Does he think I long to marry a soldier? Because I don’t. I don’t yearn to marry anyone.
Even as I think it, I taste the lie, because there is one man I’d say yes to in a heartbeat: Dante.
I gaze out at the pitched tents that I hear are sturdier and more luxurious than the rainbow-hued houses on Tarelexo. Although I’ve received my fair share of advances since starting atBottom of the Jug, soldiers aren’t allowed to bring civilians to their barracks. Sybille’s convinced it’s because there are military secrets they want to hide from us, but Sybille loves conspiracy theories almost as much as she loves teasing Phoebus about his squishy heart.
As I start back toward the tavern, shouts and hollers pin my slippered feet to the salt-crusted cobbles. A turquoise serpent jumps out of the canal and upturns a bucket of fish. My heart holds still as tendrils of magic appear in men’s palms, as well as swords. The boisterous crowd stands ready to slice and burn the scaled raider.
I gasp a raucousnothat gets lost in the evening din and lunge toward the edge of the pier but stop after two hurried steps. Nonna’s warning about keeping my affection for animals a secret presses against my lungs as tightly as the boning in my corset.
I set my palm on my collarbone, attempting to confine my scattering heartbeats before they draw anyone’s attention. The back of my neck prickles, signaling I’ve garnered a small audience. Hopefully, it’s very small.
I swivel around to find Antoni staring, as well as two women stuffing vegetables into burlap satchels. Their lips shape my nickname—Beast-charmer. If I weren’t so worried it would earn me a visit to their den, I’d emblazon it on my skin.
I wonder what people would think if they found out serpents weren’t the only animals that liked me. Every feline and lizard in Luce knows my address. Even the mice, that most Fae and human sweep out of their house with brooms or a blast of air magic, find their way to me. Although I don’t toss them out, I do carry them away before Nonna catches me feeding them crumbs or petting them.
Humans have pets but rare are the Fae who keep a domesticated animal. This is why, sometimes, I believe Rax mustn’t be so terrible.
