Behind us, Baz snorted a laugh.
“Better that than to have every thought revealed on your face for the world to see,” I said.
“Oh really?” she said, hand on her hip. “And what is my face saying to you now?”
I searched her face, but I was like a moth to a flame. I couldn’t look away. Her eyes drew me in first, the color like amber. But then the smile playing on her lips made me stare at her mouth and imagine it on mine, plush and hot. I’d better get control of myself fast. “Honestly? It wouldn’t be polite to repeat it,” I said, and she let out a peal of surprised laughter.
“Wow, was that a joke?” she asked, her tone still full of laughter. “I didn’t know you did that.”
I glanced down at her briefly. “I joke. I even laugh on occasion.”
She and her horse snorted at the same time. “I didn’t think you were capable of laughter, either,” she said cavalierly. “I learned something today.”
“We call him Commander Jokester because he’s constantly joking,” Kestrel said, and Zamir let out a groan.
“Don’t listen to a word he says,” Zamir told Zara. “He isn’t happy unless he’s saying something disrespectful.”
“I’m not sure the commander is capable of laughter,” Baz deadpanned.
“I laugh,” I said, “but only if something is amusing enough to warrant it.”
“No pity laughs from you, huh?” Zara asked, that same shine of mirth in her eyes.
“Not unless a scoff counts,” I said, and she laughed again, the sound light and infectious. Many turned their heads toward her and smiled, though they couldn’t have known what she was laughing at.
I felt a strange buoying in my chest, which I belatedly realized was pride. It felt good to make someone laugh, to makeherlaugh. The war had cast a dark cloud over everything for so long, it felt like years since I’d found anything amusing.
She pointed to one of the market stalls covered with a bright red and yellow tent. “That smells incredible—what is it?”
I knew exactly the smell she was talking about, like honey and yeast. “It’s trifala bread, made from mountain bees’ honey.”
“Shazeera would like that, too,” she said as we made our way through the market.
“So would I,” Kestrel called out, while Baz and Zamir gave him matching exasperated looks.
Beside me, Zara and her mare froze when they caught sight of a trader and his mount. The animal’s snowy gray back was heavily laden with trade goods. Its rider, with only his beard showing out of his snow leopard cloak that covered him from hishead to mid-calf, held on to his mount’s curved horns wearily. “Is that a…goat?”
“A Zephyrian mountain goat,” I said.
The citizens of Naharu rode a type of mountain goat, nearly as big as a horse, with cloven hooves and powerful legs that could easily handle the steep incline.
She watched the goat with wide eyes. “What would Mariyah say?” she asked, but she had turned to Shazeera, who snorted in what sounded like amusement.
“Is Mariyah your cousin who was with you at the bonfire?” I asked, and instantly my mind brought up images of the two of them dancing with their horses, firelight flickering on Zara’s golden skin.
“Yes,” she said, still smiling as she turned back to me. “Mariyah is like my sister. She also really loves goats. I try not to hold it against her.”
A shadow passed over Zara’s face, and I knew she was thinking of her cousin and probably everyone else she left behind. I didn’t comment on it or ask her whether she missed her friends and family; it was obvious she did. Instead, I did what any of us ever did when faced with difficult emotions. I turned to a distraction.
I pointed to the many stalls lined up. “People from all over the Zephyrian Empire come to sell their wares here. Gemstones and jewelry from the Angorans, Semalian glass, and Nazca woodcraft.”
The corners of her mouth turned down, and she shared a look with Shazeera. “So this is where all the great tribes that once made up my people have ended up—hawking their wares. I wonder when the Sorayans will take their place here. Unfortunately, all we’ve done for the past century and a half is survive a war, so we aren’t known for our goods.”
Her tone had a bite to it, and I silently regarded her, thoughts turning in my head. I had never looked at the market in that way. Those tribes had been part of our empire for so long that I had not given much thought to how they felt about being conquered. But obviously, for Zara, her experience was much different.
“As future empress, it will be different for your people,” I said, trying to ignore the sharp pain in my chest at the thought of her future position—and marriage to the emperor.
Her eyes flashed. “Thesearemy people. We are all descended from the First Daughters who were given earth magic from the Earth Mother herself.”
