Now that was the wine talking.
“I’m surprised. You were eager to hand me off earlier,” I added.
Something akin to a grimace crossed his face. “I was tired, and you’re exhausting.”
Two glasses of wine were set before us. “Not the worst I’ve been called,” I mused.
He took a long drag of his wine, and his throat bobbed. He dipped his head, and when I followed his gaze, he was staring at the sleek hair draped over my shoulder.
“The curls suit you better.” He professed the unsolicited observation as though I gave a shit.
“Well then, I will have Elsedora iron my hair with that terrifying contraption every day.”
His gaze ran down me. For some reason, it didn’t bother me that he seemed to be assessing me. The wine hitting my stomach left me light-headed and relaxed.
“But that dress brings out your eyes.” His tone was flat, and he cleared his throat afterward.
“Thank you. They’re one of my better features.”
I let my head fall against the seat and loll to look at him, too tired to feel bashful about staring. I took another sip of wine, and he mirrored my movement.
My lips turned up at the sides.
“What?” he grunted.
“I think that may have been a genuine compliment.”
He shrugged. “I’ve never had any trouble recognizing beauty.”
“Are you calling me beautiful, Darvanda?”
“Yes. But you are already well aware of that.”
I covered my mouth so as not to spit out my wine. “You’ve got me pegged, huh? Self-centered, difficult, exhausting. It’s alright—we can hope for the sake of my people that beauty alone can win over a husband before Haward can step in and display my head on the gates.”
No…thatwas the wine talking.
I set down my glass.
“You areexhausting. But I am exhausted by most people. I said none of the other things.”
I sighed and shrugged. Our wine glasses were nearly drained.
“Finish that,” he said. “I have something to show you.”
“Why do I feel like this is your way of luring me into an alley to be rid of me?”
“Take your chances here then.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine.”
We downed the final sips of our wine before Krait walked up to the bar and paid the tab—their coins looked similar to ours but were bronze instead of silver. I scooted across the slippery leather and stood. I was thankful for the flat velvet shoes Elsedora had given me. After weeks of not drinking any wine, two glasses was enough to make my head spin.
Fighting the fatigue of alcohol was simply an added obstacle. It was familiar territory—I was always tired. My body often rebelled against being awake. The buzz of liquor would dull the pain in my joints until the lousy morning hours.
I followed Darvanda outside, where the air surrounded me like a warm embrace. Light from the floating lanterns above blurred together in a glow as the wind knocked them from side to side. The night market vendors were beginning to pack up their carts and booths, using spells and charms to quickly stow goods into trunks and crates.
“This way,” Darvanda said as we walked further away from Umber House. It took nearly a half hour to reach what appeared to be the city’s edge. As we navigated down a trail, the lantern glow began to fade behind us.
