I attempt to swallow the dryness in my throat, thumbing a dainty gold chain.
“In that case, let’s throw a smattering of diamonds on it, then.” Justfor good measure. I might as well get paid in something of earthly value for all my time here.
“Excellent choice, Miss Kae. A very hard stone. Very durable. I will enjoy accenting the centerpiece stone with them.” More excited clicking. “And what shall I string the jewels upon? Do you like the gold chains, or would you prefer something with a higher melting point? Tungsten, perhaps?”
“Uh… sure? Tungsten?” I finally bring myself to turn around, just as Abaddon hands the stone over to the merchant.
“Spare no expense,” he says, “and have it brought to the castle when completed.”
“Of course, Your Majesty.”
Abaddon nods once before heading out of the shop without another word, but I linger, hoping to pay my respects to the locust. I clearly don’t know what their customs are, but I feel the need to use my own culture’s manners, at least.
“Thank you, uh…” I shouldn’t even attempt whatever Abaddon called him. I’ll just butcher it beyond all recognition. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t quite catch your name.”
“Hil is plenty sufficient, Miss Kae,” the shopkeeper replies, bowing its head slightly. “It is my pleasure to serve the royal court.”
“Then I appreciate your earnest service, Hil,” I dip my head back at the locust, trying to emulate its seemingly respectful action, and slip out the curtain to join Abaddon.
22
Given how I’m still thinking about Abaddon’s unintentional kinkiness, I make the mistake of not sticking nearly as close to his side as I should. The crowd gives him a decent berth, but with more than a few feet between us, a locust slides between the gap. One turns into two, three, a dozen—a whole line of them, enveloping me in the crowd in mere moments.
Panic seeps into me.
My arm grazes against someone’s metal plates, cold and full of tiny ridges, and my stomach turns sour. I mumble an apology, though I don’t even know which locust I bumped into. They hurry around like little fucking ants, indistinguishable from each other. And I’m lost, so lost amongst these foreign beings?—
A warm hand snakes around my waist, and a wing stretches out over my back, casting me in shadows. “I thought I told you to stay close?”
Abaddon’s low voice stills my heart.
“You didn’t, actually.” I grit my teeth, fixing my eyes ahead. He stays touching me, holding me, for far too long. Goddammit—I might even like it, too. I feel safe, protected, yet totally out of my wits. It’s both terrifying and comforting.
I hold my breath as long as I can, which isn’t very long. It eventually shudders out of me, easily loud enough for him to hear.
Immediately, he lets go of me.
“Stay close,” he commands, his voice slightly less confident.
“Yep. Got it.” My hands flex into fists, relax, and flex again. I don’t know what to do with myself. “Lead the way, Your Highness.”
So we walk, not too close, together but not too far apart.
Abaddon doesn’t directly point out different booths of interest, but he does slow his pace in a way that gives me a chance to decide tobrowse or not. I think about buying another journal, but I still have plenty of room in my current one. I have more than enough clothes. And there isn’t a single book for sale… I’m really in need of nothing; I’d only be buying something frivolous because he wants me to.
At least, I think he does, but I can’t get a good read on him.
Why is he being so generous? Is he lonely, bored? Does he pity me? Is he trying to impress me? I don’t know.
I don’t know!
So many smells of spices and God-knows-what float into the air from the various vendors. And the crowd keeps getting more packed, the walkways narrowing, collapsing the precious personal space I so desperately try to hold between the angel and me.
“You look unwell,” Abaddon states, slowing to a stop.
I drag my eyes from the crowd, getting caught in his intense, unblinking focus as he waits for my answer to his not-question-question. I decide to offer him the truth.
“I’m a bit overwhelmed.”
