“Oh…,” I said, spooning an extra-large serving for Edan. My hunger had subsided.
Korin smiled at me. “They’re delicious, I promise. And there’s some beans I’ve been saving. Since we’re almost out of the desert and have new friends, what better time?”
We ate, laughing and getting to know each other until one of Orksan’s brothers claimed the blanket next to me. He didn’t smile as the others did. A string of coins interlaced with human teeth dangled around his neck, and a copper earring hung from his left lobe. He made me uncomfortable.
“You don’t look A’landan,” Orksan’s brother said, eyeing Edan suspiciously. “Your trunk is full of books and amulets. Books in languages I’ve never seen.”
“Vachir!” Orksan barked. “Did you go through his things?”
Edan waved him off, but I could tell his smile was forced. “It’s fine.”
Vachir’s stare didn’t leave Edan. “There’s word Emperor Khanujin’s enchanter is away. The shansen has offered a great deal of money for his capture.”
Edan chuckled. “Do I look like an enchanter?”
“The enchanter is away on a quest,” Vachir repeated. His icy stare moved to me. “With the imperial tailor. They were seen in the Samarand Passage.”
My breathing became shallow.
Had Norbu seen Edan, too? He must have spread word we were traveling together, knowing it’d cause trouble for us.
Gritting my teeth, I summoned my courage. “The imperial tailor is a man!” I said in as shocked a tone as I could muster. “I couldn’t sew for the emperor. It wouldn’t be proper.”
“Perhaps the girl is who she says,” Vachir said gruffly, “but you—” He pointed his jug of ale at Edan. “You are not just an explorer.”
“Vachir,” Orksan cautioned. “It’s rude to interrogate our guests.”
With a growl, Vachir got up. He gave Edan a long, dark stare before he stalked off behind the horses.
“Don’t mind him,” Orksan apologized. “My wife doesn’t like him either. Luckily, he comes and goes from our camp.”
That did nothing to soothe my worries. Edan laughed with Orksan’s men, trying to brush off the incident. But the muscles around his eyes were tight—he was worried.
“Drink!” Orksan’s men said, passing around a wine gourd. “Drink!”
I lifted the gourd to my nose and sniffed. I made a face—the wine smelled sour.
“Women can drink too. No law against it.”
“Just a sip,” I said, taking a swig. I coughed. “It burns.”
Edan took the gourd and patted my back. “Never had wine before?”
“Of course I have,” I spluttered.
“Wine at the temple doesn’t count,” he teased.
He’d got me. I’d only ever drunk rice wine at the temple and had never had more than a sip. But once, my brothers had brewed ale out of barley, and it was awful. They drank it all in one night, and afterward their clothes reeked so badly I spent an entire day washing out the smell.
My eyes watered with memories of Finlei, Sendo, Keton, and me as children. I wondered how Baba was doing, whether he’d gotten the letters I’d sent from the Samarand Passage and the news that I was now the imperial tailor. I hoped he was proud of me, that he and Keton had spent the money I sent, and had enough to eat. Winter would come to Port Kamalan all too soon. I vowed to write them tonight.
“It wasn’t something my father kept in the house,” I said evasively, remembering the difficult months Baba had spent after Mama’s death.
“But you had three brothers.”
“Threeoverprotectivebrothers,” I reminded him. “I still have one.”
“I’d like to meet him someday,” Edan said after finishing his stew. There was a dot of sauce on his cheek, and I fought the urge to wipe it off with my finger. “Do you think he’d approve of me…as your husband?” He winked, and I had to clench my fists to keep from punching him in the ribs.
