Page 19 of Tears of Gold

“Beautiful, isn’t . . . it?” a voice beside me asks.

“Yes,” I whisper in awe, turning slowly to find Erritt at my elbow. He offers a hand, and I notice he’s wearing gloves now. It’s probably because of the mind-reading thing with all the crowds brushing against us, but for some reason, it feels reassuring.

“May I?”

A shiver runs through me. Why do I feel like backing away, and at the same time, like holding him close? I lick my dry lips and take his hand, nodding slightly. After all, the prince invited me here, so I can’t be rude.

Far above us, night descends, turning the sky a deep blue-black while the streets are lit up as bright as day. A siren sounds overhead, long and shrill, making me flinch.

Erritt squeezes my hand gently. “It’s a warning . . . to clear the skies,” he informs me, speaking slowly through his stutter. “In fifteen minutes . . . there will be fireworks.” He glances at me, his brilliant-blue gaze intense and unfathomable. “Are you . . . hungry, Ava?”

I nod, something warm fluttering through my belly as we stroll over to inspect the vendors' carts. The way Erritt carries himself intimidates me, but something about his halting speech under the warm lights makes him seem less threatening. Being a royal with that impediment can't be easy.

“This is my favorite!” Rita points to skewers of thick-cut alternating dark and white meat drizzled in a red sauce.

“How spicy?” I ask, my mouth watering despite my hesitation as the seller puts a fresh batch on his hot plate, causing a hiss of steam.

“Not very,” Rita assures me, purchasing one for each of us.

“What’s this, Rita, being generous?” Harper asks as he takes one.

Her lips curl in a wicked grin. “I’ll give you double duty to pay off your bill.”

Harper rolls his eyes. “Of course. What was I thinking?”

I try not to think too hard about the different kinds of animals I could be sampling as I nibble on the hot treat. It’s not that I lean towards being vegetarian, but given the planet is home to sentient beings born in beast forms, it feels slightly different.

Despite the vibrant color of the sauce, the heat is mild, leaving a warm coating on my tongue from ginger mixed with something new and milky.

Rita lifts her brows in question, and I toast her with the empty skewer, licking my fingers. “It’s good.”

Erritt passes me a handkerchief, and although it’s dry when I take it, a moment later, it’s damp. “Thanks.” Warmth fills my cheeks as I realize I’ve been licking my fingers in front of royalty, but he doesn’t seem offended, judging by the slight curve of his lips.

I sneak a glance at Harper, and he catches me, winking as he loudly sucks his fingers clean. Straightening, I brush my hair back from my shoulder. If Erritt wanted to stand on ceremony, he wouldn’t have brought us to mingle with the crowds. In fact, he wouldn’t be seen within a mile of a human or rogue, so I should stop worrying.

But I am still curious, and if he’s not worried about formalities, now is a good time to ask. “Can I ask something?”

“Yes, but only if you c-call me Erritt.” The prince turns his full attention on me.

“Are you sure that’s okay?” I ask, glancing at Vanrey who seems to be the stickler for etiquette.

Erritt steps between us, blocking my view. “I’m sure.”

When he adds a reassuring smile, I wave my stick toward the complex dominating the city's center. “Why aren’t you going to the palace?”

Vanrey stiffens, watching his master closely.

A sad look passes across Erritt’s face. “It’s not a very happy . . . place for me. But more than that, the r-royal festival celebrations, while grand . . . are so formal it’s stifling. I’d much rather w-wander the streets and lick my fingers.” He touches a finger to his lips, teasing me.

“Sounds like a killjoy, alright,” Harper says, throwing a disdainful look toward the palace as he sidles up beside me, brushing my shoulder.

“The food is amazing, though,” Rita counters. A pair of dancers twirling in skirts that resembles goldfish tails skips past us, and we ease to one side to let them pass. Rita copies their spin with a giggle. “But His Highness is right. It’s far more relaxing out here.”

The street food here seems delicious to me. We wander down the line of sellers, weaving through gaps in the milling crowds to try more familiar foods like cups of sticky buttered rice, hot apple pastries, and hard-boiled candies.

I twitch when another warning siren goes off, and then after five minutes, it rings again, signaling all traffic to leave the airways. Erritt directs my attention to the skies as a chime loud enough to make my head ache tolls out across the city.

The curtains of light bulbs dim, and the dark sky above erupts in a riot of color. The crowd around us cheers, the noise of popping air and excited voices blending into a cacophony that makes me cover my ears. Unlike Earth fireworks, these splashes of qi sparkle and weave, dancing a brilliant rainbow tango before dissolving after a minute or two. I shake my head in wonder and then massage out the crick in my neck from staring up.