Chapter 12
Laini
What will they do?
Greta breaks the silence. “What type of gargoyle are you?” Her gaze pins his wings.
He clears his throat, his focus sliding to my face. “Allysium.”
I raise my chin and clasp his hand more tightly. We haven’t let go of one another since walking out here. “The best type of gargoyle to have in the tower, watching for storms and threats.”
Greta nods, but she seems absolutely unable to look away. I get the feeling.
An old woman I don’t know—I’ve seen her on high market days—points her finger. “You could kill us all with a thought. Turn usright to stone.”
Sweat beads on Rom’s forehead, and I step forward. “So could many of the creatures here. Like Tully.”
“I totally could,” Tully says, grinning with all her teeth.
Grumlin chuckles at her side.
The butcher has come up behind his daughter, a protective gleam in his black eyes. “But we know her. We don’t know him at all.” The goblin was a brawler in his younger days—at least, that’s what Grumlin once told me.
Sweat beads on my upper lip, but I ignore it. “Well, this is your chance to get to know him,” I say to the group.
Rom straightens and smiles, his gargoyle fangs showing a little at the sides of his full lips. I can’t wait to get that mouth to myself. “I’ll answer your questions if you have any.”
The crowd thaws at that, the females obviously swooning over him—some of the males too. Questions are floated.
“Why did you come to Leafshire Cove?”
“Have you used any of your stone magic since you arrived?”
“Are we going to have another big magical storm this year before Yule?”
“Did you fly here with Laini? How did that work?”
“Why did you hide your wings from us?”
“So you never had a hunchback? Those were your wings the whole time?”
Rom is more gracious than I would be. I’d have told half of them to get their heads out of their arses. He replies to each inquiry, his answers brief but honest.
“I would have revealed myself sooner if I knew you were all so kind,” he says finally.
The old woman harrumphs at this and hisses something that is surely not kind at all to her friend, a pixie with silver hair and fine wrinkles around her pink eyes. But the rest of those gathered smile and nod. The music starts up again. Rustion stands beside the musicians, trading words with them and helping Rom and me out.
The next reel is more complicated and includes some partner spins and lifts. Rom doesn’t have a clue how to dance it, so we keep to the outskirts of the crowd as he does his best. I love the feel of his big hands wrapped around my waist as he draws me up, then lowers me slowly, dragging me down his chest and stomach. He dips low and kisses the underside of myjaw.
Rustion walks up, and we break apart to say hello.
“A fine party, Lord Mayor,” Rom says.
Nodding, I add, “Thanks for hosting.”
“It’s a joy! And I’m so glad you revealed your identity, Romulus,” Rustion says.
I want to continue with this line of action here, but my stomach isn’t on the same path. It rumbles loudly, giving away the fact that I didn’t manage to eat much today because I was too full of nerves.
