Page 73 of Storm and Sea

“Which one of these has sugar in it?”

Atreus grinned at the befuddled expression on the woman’s face.

“Here, you’d like this one,” he said, picking a peach tart from the bunch and placing it in Nyel’s hand. He also bought a strawberry tart and placed the paper-wrapped treat in his pocket. Handing the woman a few coins, he led Nyel to a nearby bench to enjoy his treat.

Only when they were seated did Nyel stop admiring the delicate cup of custard and fruit.

“I have coins. I could have bought it.”

Atreus waved a hand. “You’ll get the next one. Take a bite.”

Nyel brought the tart to his mouth and bit into it. His shoulders slumped and a flush crept into his cheeks. “Mmmm, it’s so good,” he said through a full mouth. “Here, try.” He held out the tart.

Atreus’s first instinct was to crinkle his nose in disgust at the sickeningly sweet treat. But with Nyel holding it out to him, the offer lingered between them like an unfinished cadence, and he was tempted to lean in and take a bite.

But he cleared his throat, swallowing. “I’ll pass.”

“You don’t like sugar?”

Atreus shook his head. “Not a sweets kind of guy.”

“I don’t know how you’ve been here so long and don’t like it. Sugar is my favorite human food.”

Atreus chuckled as he stretched his legs, hating how his toes felt trapped, like they were encased in a coffin. He really hated shoes.

“Why did you buy the second one then?” Nyel asked through a mouthful.

“For Marina. I can guarantee she’s so busy at her booth, she won’t get to see much of the festival. She deserves a treat for all the work she’s putting in.”

“That’s so nice of you. I didn’t even think about that,” Nyel praised.

“It’s in my best interest to keep that girl happy. Otherwise, she drives me nuts.”

“I think you just have a soft spot for her,” Nyel teased. “Who knew you were such a softie?”

“Okay, let’s not get carried away. She’s my boss’s daughter. I like to stay in her good graces,” Atreus said, even though the idea hadn’t even crossed his mind when he made the purchase.

“Whatever you say,” Nyel said, shoving the rest of the tart in his mouth.

They continued moving up and down the rows, keeping their coins to themselves except for a little glass turtle that Nyel couldn’t resist.

“I want one of those. I see all the fishermen wearing them.” Nyel said, pointing to a stall selling fossilized shark’s teeth.

“It’s not something you can buy for yourself,” Atreus said with a hint of longing.

“Why not?”

“Someone has to give it to you. It has to be earned.”

“How?”

“It’s different for everyone. Traditionally, it’s passed from father to son.”

“Oh.” Nyel admired it a moment longer, and Atreus sensed he wanted to ask more questions, but a booth with bright neon lights stole his attention. “What does that one say?”

Atreus squinted at the sign and recognized the ‘B’ as the first letter but couldn’t make fins or tails of the rest. He took a guess based on what lay behind the ticket counter.

“It says Bocce. It’s a game.”