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Chapter 4
Then
“I’m fine,” I said, grabbing the stranger’s outstretched hand, my eyes never leaving his. The softness of my voice sounded too feminine, too refined to be mine. “Thank you,” I breathed. His golden-brown skin was at home in the autumn sun that was still shining on the harbor, his short, shaggy dark hair, the kind my hands would love to be tangled in. His eyes were…beautiful. The colors seemed alive, a far cry from the deep brown of my eyes.
“Try to be more careful.” His voice was smoky and edged with the richness of the earth beneath my feet, but there was a distinct playfulness to it.
“Mhm,” was all I could manage. Fucking Saints, I felt like Larka meeting the Zidderunian Prince. I shook my head to clear the smoke that his voice had blown across my senses. “Enjoy Cindregala,” I said, and turned away into the crowd, following Larka and Elin who hadn’t even seen my tumble.
“Wait,” he called, once again reaching out a hand, this time gently placing it on my shoulder. I turned back to him, looking into those eyes that for some reason had me in a Saints damned chokehold. I wanted out. I raised an eyebrow, expectantly waiting, unable to keep from studying the line between blue and green in his left eye.
He said nothing, those eyes roving my face as if committing it to memory. I knew I should shrink under his gaze, but something deep inside of me kept me propped up. His jaw was square, darkened with stubble. I could tell by the way his cheekbones sat that his eyes would crinkle when he smiled. I stared up at him, looming almost a foot taller than me, his heady scent of smoke and cedar–
“What’s your name?” he asked, a coaxing smile curving his lips.
“I have to go. My sister is leaving. Thanks again,” I muttered, swiftly turning and finding the back of Larka’s head in the crowd. I took a deep breath and walked as quickly as I could without looking like an absolute idiot.
What the hell was that?
Shaking the lingering fog from my head, I fell into stride beside Larka and Elin who were chatting about the meaning of the symbol on the green sail closest to shore. Clouds still swirled through my mind, replaying what had just happened.
“That arrow isdefinitelya symbol for…something else,” Larka said, wiggling her eyebrows and snickering. I was immediately pulled back into the present, knowing exactly where Larka was headed with this.
Elin scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Why do you say that?”
“You can’t look at that and tell me it isn’t phallic,” she laughed. A man walking in front of us turned around at the word, which only made Larka’s laugh deepen.
“Larka!” I growled. But her laugh continued, the sound blending with the music and the people and the waves.
I knew that she and I would likely never see the world like we planned, needing to help provide for our parents. But in that moment, laughing with Larka as the sun danced through her hair, the melodious laughs echoing from her mouth, I was swept with a wave of gratitude. It came from nowhere, an unfamiliar fullness that bloomed in my chest, but it hummed with a welcome warmth.
“Girls!” We heard voices from ahead and spotted our parents with Selina and Kolvar, Elin’s parents.
“Isn’t it incredible?” my mother quietly gushed as we approached their group. Their cheeks were still red from the bite that was now leaving the air thanks to the sun. My father’s eyes were brighter than I’d ever seen them. In that moment he was a picture of his younger self, tremors minor enough to conceal.
“It’s so much better than I imagined,” said Larka, scanning the harbor once again.
“There he is, Larka! There’s yer Zidderunian Prince! What’s his name again?” my father taunted.
“Who cares? Look at the size of that ship!” she laughed.
“Ever think maybe he’s compensating?” my father quipped, and Larka gave him a light elbow in the ribs.
“We’re going to head to my mother’s house in Sidus,” said Kolvar, his arm around Elin’s shoulder. “We’re going to try to convince her to make the journey down here, but the old goat is a crotchety one, let me tell ya.”
“Good luck with that one,” my father chuckled. We said our farewells, Elin and her family taking off toward Sidus.
My father clasped his shaking hands together. “My ladies,” he said in his best High Royal accent, his chest puffing out. “A gift for ye.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out two silver pieces and handing them to us, using all of his concentration to shakily deposit one in each of our hands. My mother beamed beside him. “I hear the carnival is up and running in Bellenau Square. Go have some fun. Happy birthday, Petra.”
Our eyes widened. Larka spoke first. “Dad, you don’t have to–”
“Ah!” he cut in. “I won’t hear it.”
I spoke next. “This could be used for–”
“I said I won’t hear it. Ye girls work so hard to keep our home together. Nowgo have fun.” He waved his hands, shooing us away.
Larka and I looked at each other, faint smiles on both of our faces. A silver piece wouldn’t get us much, but the atmosphere and the music and the crowd were magic, and we were swept away in it.
