“Becauseyou’llenjoy it.”
“Will I?” She motioned at the celebratory square with her free hand. “I don’t know anyone other than your sister, who looks very busy, and that bastard Gregor, who I’d rather avoid. So it looks like I’m stuck with you, and you’re stuck with me.”
I glanced down at her hand on my arm, at the steam hissing from our skin-to-skin contact. Her fingers were softer than I’d expected, and her smooth sage skin was so vibrant and alive next to my tan. So ridiculously beautiful.
I cleared my throat. “All right, I’ll stay, but you’ll likely regret it. I don’t like these kinds of things.”
“Maybe that’s why I want you to stay. I like the idea of tormenting you.” She winked and let go of my arm. The cold air that followed chilled me to the bone.
Without another word, she spun and took off into the party. I sighed and followed, slinging my hands into my pockets and wondering how deeply I’d regret this in an hour or two. As the night wore on, the drinks would flow and the raucous energy of the crowd would become unbearable. Every year, I’d listened to the sounds of it from my open bedroom window. And every year, I’d slammed that window down and tried to sleep despite the noise. I never did.
Daella approached the bar, and Lilia’s face visibly brightened, especially when she saw me in the background trying my damndest not to attract much attention. Every single person here knew I hated these kinds of things. I’d really rather they didn’t make a fuss.
“I can’t believe it,” my sister said in her trademark singsong, swiping her hands on her apron. “Freya’s fires must have frozen over, because that right there looks like my hermit of a brother.”
Daella laughed. “Inside that head of his, you just know he’s kicking and screaming.”
“How’d you do it?” Lilia asked as she grabbed two tankards from the rack behind her. She lifted the first to a barrel of her infamous brew and arched a brow at Daella.
“I threatened him with a dagger to his throat. Oh, wait. No, that was what he did to me. Something about being the big bad protector of this place.”
“Rivelin!” Lilia exclaimed, her frown drawing down the corners of her eyes. “You can’t just go around threatening people with daggers.”
Daella glanced over her shoulder and smirked. “See? Your sister agrees with me.”
“I think I’m going to head home now,” I said flatly.
“No, come on. I’m just messing around.” Daella passed one of the tankards to me and lifted hers, as if awaiting a toast, brushing aside the whole bit about the dagger. Clearly, it hadn’t upset her earlier. I felt relieved, then frowned. Why did it matter if it had?
“I think I might need to separate you two or you’ll make life unbearable.” Still, I took the offered tankard and knocked mine against Daella’s. Froth flowed over the side, coating my fingers, and Daella deftly avoided getting it on her skin. Then she stared at me expectantly, waiting for my toast. Something about the look in her eye made me momentarily forget my frustration.
“To…new alliances,” I said.
“To new alliances,” she repeated, and then she drank the whole thing down. When she finished, she gasped for air and then coughed, pounding her fist against her chest. Froth covered her top lip like a mustache, and a few droplets of the brew clung to her chin. She winced as if in pain.
“Ah.” I reached out and swiped the froth away. She stiffened beneath my touch, steam rising, but she didn’t flinch away. “You’ve got it on your face. You do know it’s more enjoyable if you just sip it, right?”
She stared up at me, her eyes bright, then rubbed the spot with her shirt. “No, I did not know that. I’ve never had ale before.”
“You’ve never—that is absolutely unacceptable,” Lilia interjected with a quick shake of her head. She snatched Daella’s empty tankard and poured her another drink. “The first one was on the house for you saving me from that bastard’s grubby hands. This one’s on the house because every woman deserves to have a little fun sometimes. Drink up and enjoy yourself tonight.”
“It’s different than what I expected,” Daella said, lifting the tankard to her lips and sniffing. “I heard ale was bitter, but this is quite sweet.”
“That’s Lilia’s brew for you,” I said with a smile. “It’s the best ale in all the Isles, maybe even beyond. I doubt any tavern in the Grundstoff Empire can compare.”
She nodded as she took a smaller sip this time. “I believe you must be right.”
A few other patrons stumbled up to the bar, and my sister shooed us away with a fond smile and an unfortunate wink in my direction. I knew what she was thinking. She’d said as much before. Daella was a beauty, and there was a spark about her. Lilia had always said I needed someone in my life like that. Someone with edges rough enough to understand me but soft enough to bring a little brightness into my ‘dreary hermit life’, as she liked to call it.
But what Lilia just didn’t understand was that I was happy on my own. I didn’t want or need anyone else other than Skoll. In fact, upending my life to make room for someone else would only get in the way of what I needed to do most in this world: protect Hearthaven and the other islands. And even more than that, I couldn’t risk trusting the wrong person, let alone one who worked for the emperor—even if they were forced to.
Still, I understood what Lilia saw in the half-orc. With the fireflies dancing around her head, their yellow glow illuminating her brilliant sage-green skin, she looked achingly beautiful tonight.
I cleared my throat and motioned at a nearby elf with long auburn hair. “That’s Kari. She’s one of the contestants this year. Smart as a whip.”
“Good to know. Who else?”
I scanned the crowd and picked out a purple-winged pixie chattering with her partner, a dwarf who, incidentally, had also been chosen this year. Should be interesting. “Those two are in it this year. The pixie’s name is Nina. She’s a firecracker who loves to cook. Her partner there, Hege, is a carpenter, and she’s stronger than she looks.”
