Page 21 of The Sun He Buried

“Roofs are dangerous.”

He laughs against my mouth.

He kisses me once more. Shorter. Softer. Then he steps back far enough for me to find the door latch. It takes two tries.

I open the door and turn around. Baldr is still there, one hand resting against the wall, smiling at me.

“Good night, Sól.”

“Good night.”

I close the door.

The latch catches. On the other side, his boots cross the passage, stop at the next room, and his door closes.

I stand there, fingers still on the latch, and smile until my cheeks hurt.

Chapter Three

The ribbon seller takes one look at Baldr and forgets how money works.

She taps two fingers against the stall. “Two copper.”

I hold up the bundle of green ribbon. There are six lengths in it. The dye alone cost more than two copper.

“For all of them?”

“For you, my lady.”

Ah.

I turn to Baldr. He’s standing three paces behind me with his hands clasped at his back, exactly where I put him after the wool merchant tried to give me half her stall.

“You’re doing it again.”

“Standing?”

“Looming.”

He glances over one broad shoulder. The lane behind him is clear. It has been clear since he stopped there.

“I’m not looming.”

“Nobody can walk around you.”

“There’s room.”

A man carrying a basket of eels reaches the end of the stall, sees Baldr, and chooses another lane.

I point after him.

Baldr watches the man go. “He may not like ribbon.”

The seller covers a laugh with her hand.

Traitor.

I set the green bundle beside a blue one. “Could you pretend he isn’t here?”