My breath caught. Was he that perceptive, or was I that transparent? “You swear it?”
He pressed a fist to his heart. “On my life,” he said, and swept an exaggerated bow, like some knight of old.
I huffed at his over-the-top theatrics. He was clearly lying, but...so what? Town wasn’t far. Only a mile and a half. I’d be minutes from Amryssa, at most.
Kyven straightened and sauntered off, into the sultry darkness. I followed, knowing that if the weather turned, I’d rush back, with him or without him.
On the road, gravel crunched beneath our feet. Kyven attempted to draw me into a conversation and, with no other way to pass the time, I let him. It was a real discussion, even, about Lunk’s newly minted love for Miss Quist.
I’d been there three weeks ago to witness its conception. One morning, our rosy-cheeked, frizzy-haired, gloriously plump cook had brought a tray of eggs into the breakfast room, and Lunk had lost his heart.
I hadn’t known a man could fall in love in a single moment, but the giant’s cheeks had slackened and his blunt features softened to a glow. He hadn’t spoken, but he’d quit breathing and hadn’t started again until the kitchen door had swung shut behind Miss Quist.
Now I conversed with Kyven in low tones, my attention still on the sky. “Has Lunk talked to her yet?”
“No,” he said, “and I don’t believe he plans to. He has a habit of taking himself out of the running before he even gets started. I’ve seen him do it before.”
“Why? Because of his...?” I gestured to my face.
“Mmm-hmm. I’ve told him that any woman worth her salt will realize how much he has to recommend him, and that we can’tallwin the genetic roll of the dice. But he never listens. Most likely, he’ll moon about, admiring her from afar, and eventually write a despairing poem or two. If nothing else, I take comfort in the fact that you’ll have to suffer through the recitation with me.”
I digested that. Despite having two attendants, Kyven mostly looked after himself, so I’d only spoken to Lunk a handful of times. The giant always covered his mouth when he talked, as if a raised hand might conceal the lispeds’s and bee-buzzth’s his underbite produced. Yet he’d struck me as intelligent and open-hearted, a man worthy of someone as sweet as Miss Quist.
Warmth fuzzed beneath my ribs, and I caught myself. Goddess. Charitable thoughts abouttwopeople in one fell stroke? I was losing my edge.
At least Kyven still made me want to stab something whenever he walked by.
“You should tell Lunk she’s not the type to judge on looks,” I said, in an attempt to regain my balance. “And that she reads even more romances than I do. They’re more scandalous, too. Maybe they could bond over that.”
Kyven arced an eyebrow, but he passed up the opportunity for a jibe, much to my surprise. “He won’t listen. Though Ididask him about his newfound passion while he and I were outside the kitchen yesterday.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Oh. So...you’re planning to trick him into confessing?”
He smirked. “I wouldn’t say I’mplanningit.”
“Oh, no, of course not.” I sniffed. “Let me guess, you had some convoluted justification, didn’t you? What did you tell yourself, that you werecreating an opportunity where nonecurrently exists?” I mimicked his stuck-up accent, my nose thrust into the air.
He laughed. “Gods, lioness. You’re adorable when you mock me. Truly.”
The compliment stole half the air from my lungs, and I scolded myself. Stupid. Stupid, pretentious, condescending prince. Stupid me for indulging in his bullshit. Stupid Olivian for burdening me with this man long enough that he was starting to feel familiar.
I faced forward, effectively closing the door on our repartee. We’d almost reached town, and in the dim embrace of night, Oceansgate stood as a remnant of its former self. Derelict houses sagged against one another. Moonbeams striped the ragged cobblestones. In the distance, the sea reflected starlight, and abandoned anchors rusted on the beach—vestiges of ships that no longer sailed these waters.
Once, this had been a bustling port town, the terminus of the trade route from the distant southern islands. But with the advent of the nightmares, our harbor had fallen into disuse. Now, instead of shipping goods along our overland route to Hightower, vessels sailed past us to Stormbow. The harbor there was shallower and less protected, the waters plagued by the weather that had given the territory its name, but at least their squalls weren’t the suicide-inducing kind.
Kyven surveyed the ramshackle buildings. A breeze lifted, carrying the scent of saltwater and seaweed. “It’s charming.”
“Itwas. Now it’s just...faded. And I’m sure it has nothing on Hightower.”
“Oh, no place does. But this one looks lively enough, all things considered. Where’s the theatre?”
I pointed to a distant building, where torchlight caught on ivy-laden walls. Cracks split the stucco, stained black by the sea air.
We descended the last hill into town, and Kyven was right—a surprising number of people were out, rendering the streets lively. Women in bright skirts beckoned from crumbling doorways while men in faded tailcoats spouted ragged, drunken choruses.
A strange energy came over Kyven, almost as if he belonged in a place like this. He reached for my hand, his grip vibrating with excitement.
I started to pull away, then reconsidered. He was like a fox in a henhouse here—liable to duck down an alley and eat somebody. At least with our fingers linked, I could keep him on a leash. So I left my hand where it was.
