“He is,” I confirmed, “but he is not looking for a husband. His focuses are elsewhere.”
“He’s looking at you like he’s looking for a husband.” My cheeks flushed, and I found myself unable to look at Raylen. Was he speaking the truth? I had not seen Castien look at me that way, but I remembered his kiss and his touch from the day before. They’d held more passion than any other I’d had experienced. “Are you certain he’s not looking to be married?”
“Quite certain.” He’d told me as much. “We are companions, but it is only for the week. He lives in Gearwick. I live in Emberleigh. It is impossible.”
The words sank to my stomach.
“If I believed that things were impossible, I would never have found my fortune.”
There was truth in his words. He was known for doing the impossible. I did not know if it was magic or if he was abnormally blessed in a way I had never been.
“I am not you.” My tone sounded pathetically forlorn to my own ears. “Anyone would turn themselves inside out to be with you.” He raised a brow, and I knew I’d said too much. I thought my face might turn to flame with how hot it felt. “I mean—I—Uh—”
“I understand what you mean.” He smiled, and I knew why so many felt butterflies in their stomach at the simple thought of him. “Do not sell yourself short though, Oleander. You are a handsome man as well, and he would be lucky to have you by his side.”
Raylen of Moonscliffe had just called me handsome. A week ago, this moment would have been the best thing to ever happen to me. Now, it paled in comparison to just the thought of that smile Castien and I had shared when we’d decided to spend the day together without any other motivation.
“You should tell him how you feel,” Raylen advised. “The worst that could happen is he does not reciprocate your feelings, but at least you would not live with the regret of it for the rest of your life.”
I wondered if he was speaking from personal experience. Did he have someone that he regretted not speaking to?
My eyes drifted back to Castien. There was a strange look on his face, but I did not see the feelings Raylen spoke of. No, he was being kind. That was all this was.
I thanked him for his time, and I left him to his pleasures.
Castien rose to greet me, and we left to find our lunch. After lunch, we spent the afternoon in his stall. When the sun set and the vendor stalls closed for the evening, he stopped me outside. “I do not want today to be over.” His voice was hesitant again,and I watched the way he shifted in place. “Will you join me for dinner? At my cabin?”
Chapter Eight
Castien
My breath caught in my throat as I waited for Oleander’s answer. My pulse pounded in my ear, and I could feel my blood racing through my veins. What was I thinking, asking him back to my cabin? It was one thing to kiss in the market or by the river, to touch each other under the cover of the trees. It was another to invite him to my temporary home, but I did not want our evening to end.
Oleander studied me for a few moments, and I wondered if the words had come out in another dialect, one he did not know. Then his face brightened. “Do you mean it?”
“I do.”
“Then yes, I’d love to see your cabin.” We took a few steps toward the northern exit of the market before he stopped. “What about Acantha? Will they mind the company for dinner?”
My sibling had not returned after their afternoon off. I did not know if they’d gone off to the pub with friends again, or if they’d gone back to the village ahead of me. Either way, I would not be seeking them out once Oleander and I got there. My thoughts would only be on him. As we walked through the exit of the Everend Market, I reached for his hand. “They have a cabin of their own.”
“That must have cost a fair bit of coin.”
“It is a worthy investment,” I assured him. “I like my private space.” I saw a flicker of something akin to disappointment behind Oleander’s eyes, and I felt a strong desire to comfort him. I did not want him to think that he was an intrusion on my time. “I’m thankful that I can share that space with you tonight. Uninterrupted.”
The smile was back on his lips, and I was struck by his beauty. I did not understand why he had spared even a single glance in my direction, but he had. I wanted to bask in the glow of his attentions and his affections while I had them. Soon, someone would catch his eye and offer him all that he dreamed of: a small home and a future and a life full of love together. The glimmer of a vision formed in my head. It was him, sitting at my kitchen table in Gearwick, leaning forward onto his elbows, listening to me talk with that interested expression in his eyes that I’d seen when I’d shown him the contents of my journal the day before.
As quickly as it formed, it faded.
His interest in my inventions was a passing, fleeting fancy. I had experienced this before. I’d met a man who caught my attentions and I’d thought, for a moment, there might be something there. We’d begun a courtship, and within weeks, he’d decided that I was too dull, too focused on my shop andmy creations, and he’d walked away. I’d been left with an aching heart and a cold bed and the knowledge that whatever attraction my physicality drew, my personality pushed away.
It would be the same for Oleander. It was best to leave this as a passing fancy, an attraction with an expiration date.
“You’re quiet,” Oleander commented, pulling my thoughts back to him and away from our inevitable finish line.
“I’m often quiet,” I reminded him.
He nudged me, and I smiled up at him. “You’ve mentioned dinner,” he started. “Are you a good cook?”
