Page 5 of Badmouths & Bards

It makes sense this happened, Ameriden thought. The denizens of this world are selfish. Of course they would want him for themselves.

“There’s still time,” Seira continued. “We don’t have to get back on the ship once we hit the Chroma Coast. We can rent one of the beach homes, you and Casi can rest, and I can send a message with the ship crew that you got food poisoning.”

“No,” Ameriden shook his head. “We should keep to the schedule. Casi wouldn’t want to cancel such a big event.”

“Amer,” Seira brushed a lock of red hair behind her ear, training her knowing stare at him, “I know it’s been hard. I’ve seen the way the road has been treating you both. You don’t have to keep doing this. I told you, I’m happy to handle whatever backlash that might come our way if you and Casi were to—”

“Cashmere Fantasy exists because Casi and I know how to walk the line,” Ameriden said. “We can harmonize, we can dance on stage and flirt… but we can’t be more than that.”

Chapter 3

Casimine

The other side of the bed was empty.

Light gray eyes blinked in confusion as Casimine rolled fully onto his side. He had expected to wake up to a broad chest, but instead found sheets that were much too cold.

Did he leave already? What time is it?

Casimine pushed himself up, yawning as he searched the room. He spotted Dumpling doing lazy laps inside his enclosure, but no sign of Ameriden. Frowning, Casimine reached beneath his pillow for a ribbon. He gathered his shoulder length blue green hair and tied the ribbon near the base of his neck.

He’s fine.

The thought should have been comforting but Casimine could feel the anxiety beneath his medium-light cyan skin. Even as he pulled a silk robe onto his lean shoulders, the urge to pace was already taking root.

It was ridiculous to be worried about Amer. Out of the two of them, he was the one who was the most capable if something truly awful were to happen. Amer had access to magic through his instrument and what he lacked in talent, he made up for in strength.

Seira wouldn’t let him explore the Chroma Coast alone, Casimine thought as he worried his bottom lip with a canine. Not unless…

There was a possibility that Amer had chosen to explore the city on his own. Cashmere Fantasy had toured the Chroma Coast a year ago. A line from Port Vurbali all the way to the capital city of Beryl. The colors and diversity of port cities and coastlines was always a treat for both of them. People who would gladly share their stories in exchange for attention and praise. Something Casimine was rather proficient in.

“Ameriden is our sex appeal, but you’re the face with the voice, Casi,” Seira had said when they first started traveling together.

Casimine had always laughed, charmed by the idea that others were so smitten by something as ordinary as his face. He supposed it was better to be disillusioned by his appearance than be a pompous airbag like some of the other bards had been in college. However, modesty had it’s place. While he might have downplayed the intensity of his stare, or the angles of his jawline, when Casimine was singing, he knew exactly how to work the room. A skill that he had unfortunately learned at an early age.

Save the tragedy for some other time, Casi.

Shrugging his shoulders, Casimine stretched as he walked toward the small round table. A basket of fruits—some of which had seen better days—awaited. He plucked a banana and slowly removed the skin as he plopped down onto the writing desk chair.

Scrolls were piled near the back of the desk, with several pieces of parchment disorganized across the front. Casimine’s own messy script laid bare under his heavy gaze. The itch to grab the quill and blot out all the words was building in his left hand. It would take just a few seconds, a quick skritch and all the awful words he had come up with last night would be gone.

“And high up it goes, the dragon, as we ride away in our wagon—” Casimine groaned. “I must have been drunk when I wrote this.”

The daydreamers may have thought Casimine was a lyrical poet, but he did not feel like one.

At all.

In fact, the more he looked at his miserable attempt at retelling the story of Yara, the red dragon, the more Casimine wanted to ruin the words. Spill the black ink and soak the parchment until not a trace of his terrible lyrics could see the light of the Fire Matron. Swallow up all the mistakes, all of his imperfections until there was nothing left.

Don’t do that, Casi!

Casimine tore himself away from the writing desk, but carelessly threw the banana peel on top of the parchment. A slight against his own creativity since the version of Amer that lived in his head would hate it if he destroyed his work. He ran his hands over his face, pausing to massage his temples with his long fingers.

He couldn’t deny it anymore. Casimine Moonsong, one half of Cashmere Fantasy, the dynamic bard duo, was absolutely suffering from writer’s block. What was frustrating about the whole situation was that the words were there. Casimine could feel them inside his head, like sea foam cresting on gentle waves. The problem was every time he tried to reach for them, the words would disintegrate before he could fully grasp them.

Maybe if he—

A sharp knock at the door of the room broke Casimine from his ruminations. He frowned, pushing an errant strand of hair that had come loose from his movement behind his pointed ear.