Page 25 of Tempting Fate

“What do you mean?”

“Zyamzh was only temporary for us. We’re moving tomorrow.”

His eyes flashed wide. “You can’t leave. Fate, you’re the best thing about this place.”

“It’s not like I’m going far,” I said, unable to help a smile. “They’ve been generous in letting Fenn and I stay, but it’s time for us to start building our own lives here. This place is theirs, and we are outsiders.”

He snorted. “We are not so different. This place is for lost people finding a new life. It’s as much yours as anyone’s.”

“That’s very sweet of you, but it’s not your decision, it’s mine. Anyway, there were spare beds when they were off on your mission, but now everyone’s back, we’re probably overstaying our welcome.”

“Unacceptable.” He straightened, then his shoulders slumped. “I forget I have no power here at all.”

“I thought you had no power on Orith either?”

“Not with my parents. But with my”—his headspines flattened, and his voice quietened—“servants I did.”

Wow. Well, that would explain a few things. “Servants?”

“Trading families are wealthy. We have many staff and retainers. Two were allocated to me.” He rubbed a hand over his tiny horns. “They treated me better than my own parents did. Though my parents’ orders had to be followed, and my retainers were not permitted to grant my every request, they were, nevertheless, at my command.”

How strange. To be a prisoner in a pretty cage but the ruler of it. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Airida stared resolutely ahead. “I am not supposed to talk about Orith.” His colourful lizard landed in his headspines, and the tension in his muscles softened a fraction.

“Why? Because the others don’t want to?”

He tilted his head to one side, his jaw set in a firm line.

I gestured between me and Fenn. “We’re not shaa’ith, and we’re not from Orith. I’d like to hear about it, if you want to talk.”

“You would?”

“Yes, why wouldn’t I?” The creature on his head let out a series of trilling coos. “Will you tell me about your lizard?”

“The chiyi? She was a stowaway.”

“What’s her name?”

He drew his ridged brows together. “Her name?”

“She’s practically a pet, isn’t she?”

“Would it not be silly, naming what is a common pest to most sapients?”

“A pest?” I reached out and petted the creature on her little head. “You’re not a pest, you’re a sweetheart, aren’t you, petal? You need a name. Names are important.”

Without meaning to, I brushed one of the purple, fleshy spines on Airida’s head. It twitched, rippling under my fingers.

Oh.

In my intent focus on the lizard, I was much, much closer to his face than was polite. Heck, I was practically stroking his hair. Headspines. His really soft, tactile headspines.

I pulled away, an apology resting on my lips.

Airida’s breath caught. His lip quivered, and his jaws parted enough for me to see his tongue moving inside his mouth.

I edged backwards. I should not be curious about his mouth or his headspines or his tongue. Especially not his tongue.