Bran quirked a brow at my expression, leaning forward as he rested his chin on his hand. “Was he handsome?” His eyes danced knowingly, a smirk sliding upon his lips. “Could thisKaibe part of the reason you were so distracted this morning?”
”Soli’s wrath,” I cursed beneath my breath, pointing my spoon threateningly towards him, “I have no interest in the arrogant prick, he’s much more your type than mine. I’m just worried because they seemed so…investigative.”
Interest lit his gaze. “More my type, huh? So he washandsome then,” he said, shoveling another bite into his mouth with a wink. “If he stops by again, send him my way.”
Goddess. Man or woman, if there was one opportunity Bran never passed up, it was the opportunity to flirt. The man could talk a Solerian Priestess out of her robes if he really truly wished to.
“You haven’t really been interested in anyone since you used to sneak out to the barns with Aldrin McCay—”
”Donot,”—my tone pure venom—”mention that Goddess-forsaken name.”
”Bran,” Merle chastised, “you know he’s a sensitive subject.”
His hands went up placatingly. “Well I’m just saying, if you’re avoiding being interested in anyone because he acted like such a bastard, you shouldn’t. They say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone new.”
“Branson Sommers!”
His flinch at Merle's scolding had a reluctant smile curving my lips, despite the pinprick of pain that pierced my heart.
Aldrin McCay had been the first boy I’d ever thought I could love, the first one I’d ever givenmyself to. All golden hair and deep blue eyes, he had a roguish smile that had once left me breathless. Until he’d crushed my teenage heart in one fell swoop, and if there was one thing I knew how to do—it was how to hold a grudge.
Perhaps it had been for the best though, that it had ended before it could even begin. What was a relationship without truth? He never could have truly known me, only the facade that I cast out into the world. Relationships weren’t something I was interested in, nor would they be for a while. Or perhaps ever. I spent my life tryingnotto draw attention to myself, and the last thing I needed was a person trying to get to knowme. Even the thought of it made my skin crawl.
As Bran and Merle’s bickering quieted, his gaze drifted back to me, his smile faltering. “You know, McCay is apprenticing in the army with me.I could put some itching powder in his bedsheets, give him a nasty shock, if it’d make you feel better?”
Pondering, I thought momentarily of the satisfaction it would bring me, but ultimately shook my head. “The offer is sweet, but it would only bring you trouble. He’s a vengeful little man.”
Shrugging, he shot me a look. One that spoke, without words, to let him know if I changed my mind before he once again dug into his breakfast, leaving me to follow suit.
As we ate in comfortable silence all thoughts of Aldrin McCay and the mysterious Kai disappeared with each sweet bite I took.
Chapter Four
The slums of Amori City had always possessed a rotting smell, something that could only be described as death and decay. While most would shudder with revulsion, I found a calm in it; for me the Old Quarter was home. You couldn’t walk for two minutes without hitting an opium den or a brothel, but I paid them no mind. I was accustomed to the vulgarity that lived and breathed life into this section of the city. Most would consider it a darkness that possessed the slums, a wretched thing that should be steered clear of, and in some respects I would agree with them. Not perhaps their interpretation of the Old Quarter, but the fact that it was a living, breathing organism, something to be both feared and respected, but also enjoyed and loved if you knew how to treat it properly.
The people who roamed and lived within this sector of the city were the kindest I had ever met, that I was sure of. Whether it was lower-level Solerian citizens or those Luanthians that had converted and agreed to reject their Goddess and submit to Soli, they were all grateful for the potions and care Merle and I provided.
The Fever was a devastation within the Old Quarter. Every person who resided here knew at least two people who had succumbed to the wretched illness and it bred a fear within them.
And fear was the most vicious killer of all.
I walked quickly over the damp, cracked cobblestones. My body was sore from the morning training with Bran, yet still I made sure to give a small smile and wave to any who called out a greeting to me.
I approached my first stop, a dilapidated building of fading brick that appeared to lean ever so slightly to the left, and opened the door to begin my ascent up the creaking wooden steps. The building housed many families, nearly all of them Luanthians—or Solerian converts—I supposed. Even in the Old Quarter the rift between the two groups was prominent. It wasn't nearly as stark as other parts of Amori City, but the distinction was still there. That wicked “us versus them” mentality was a poison upon the kingdom.
I wasn’t sure it could ever truly be remedied, at least not when the king who currently sat upon the throne was urging the divide. A people divided were a people easily controlled, after all.
Stopping outside the familiar door, I rapped my knuckles upon the wood three times before stepping back. A small head popped out, pale silver hair pooling over her shoulders, her green eyes peeking around nervously.
Smiling warmly, I waved in greeting as I shifted the strap of my pack upon my shoulder. “Good morning, Mirabel. Mind if I come in to check up on your mom?”
Opening the door wider, her nervousness vanishing, Mirabel looked up at me with that familiar toothy grin, waving me in.
“Good morn’ Miss Syra!”
As I stepped through the entrance, I instantly heard a wracking cough, my gaze immediately latching onto the source.
“How are we feeling today, Kerlina?” The bed she rested upon was pushed up against the wall furthest from the only window within the small room, yet still a chilling draft drifted throughout the space. There were no bedrooms—none of the homes within this building had any. They consisted of merely a main living area, a small kitchen, and an even smaller washroom. It was so much like the one I had once lived in with my mother that every time I entered, I was left breathless with the memories.
