He blinks, caught off guard. “I—what? Obviously. Yes. Why?”
“There’s a little shop in the city. Hard to find. Best candy in all of Syltheriel. I swear it.” I start walking again, then call over my shoulder, “Coming or not?”
I know I should be more careful about whomI choose to trust after Osric tried tokill me. However, I can’t find it inmyself to care tonight.
He catches up instantly. “You had me at chocolate.”
The city streets buzz with fading light and the clamor of merchants packing up. I move fast, my cloak swishing around my ankles, my eyes alert. When we reach the curved little alleyway lined with flower boxes and lanterns, my face lights up.
“This is it,” I whisper.
The shop sits tucked into a bend in the alley, a crooked wooden sign dangling:“The Sweetest Sin.”
Lioran chuckles. “Are you sure we’re not walking into a brothel?”
I elbow him. “Shut up and follow me.”
The little bell above the door jingles, and a wave of warm, sugary air hits me. The place smells of cinnamon, roasted almonds, and fresh dark chocolate.
A small woman with wild silver curls stands behind the counter, eyes wide when she looks up. “Oh, stars above. Princess Serenya?”
I pull back my hood, smiling. “It’s been too long, Maeli.”
She smiles warmly. “You brought a friend.” She glances at Lioran. “Or a bodyguard?”
“Bitof both,” I say. “He has strong opinions about sweets.”
Lioran leans over a tray of confections. “This smells illegal.”
“You haven’t lived until you’ve tried her sea salt vanilla caramels,” I say, pointing.
Lioran immediately reaches for one, plopping it into his mouth. “Is this—oh, gods.” His knees actuallybend slightly. “This should be a controlled substance.”
Maeli beams. “I’ll box up a few dozen.”
“Wait!” Lioran protests. “I haven’t finished my tour.”
We wander around the shop like curious children, pointing, tasting, and arguing. I insist the cherry bonbons are superior. Lioran calls them “syrupy poison”and tries to swap my box for his hazelnut bark.
He tries a glitteringgolden candy and yelps. “This onebit me back!”
“It’s spiced with fireroot,” I say with a laugh. “Didn’t you read the label?”
“There arelabels?”
Next comes the cloud pops that explode into pink smoke in your mouth. I have two. Lioran has five. He looks drunk on sugar by the end of it.
“Okay,” he says, “if I die in the next hour, tell the council it was worth it.”
We are giggling like misbehaving children when we step back out into the street. I haven’t laughed this much in months. Maybe years.Gods, I needed this.I’m glad Lioran’s the one who found me. He was the perfect person to help get my mind off things.
We creep through the palace’s rear garden entrance, dodging moonlight, our arms full of treats. Lioran is humming some ridiculous tune under his breath, I am mid-snort from his story about nearly choking on powdered sugar—
“Really?”
We freeze.
Torin stands at the end of the path, arms folded. And, because they are apparently always together, standing beside him is Koen. Cloak half open. Expression set like stone.
