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The man was his father’s best friend. And while his dark skin is smooth, his eyes full of life, I nearly choke when I realize that he is well over one-hundred-and-fifty years old.
I take a tiny sip of my wine, testing it while I wait for them to finish catching up. It is smooth with a hint of spice, but the aftertaste is sweet. Far too sweet not to be suspicious of, but I can’t deny that part of me wants more, if only for its famed warming properties.
After a few minutes, I take another slightly longer taste and notice how it feels ice-cold at first, but quickly warms on my tongue, almost like the heat of tea. The texture is smooth, and while sweet, it has a kick similar to whiskey when it burns at the back of your throat.
It’s unlike anything I’ve ever tried. The complexities in the flavor and temperature are baffling. I take my time drinking it while the men catch up, but by the time they are finished, I have downed the entire cup.
The vendor notices and gestures to refill my stein, but I decline.
“As tempting as the offer is, I believe I should hold off.”
His face falls slightly as if I have offended his generosity.
“But, if it’s alright with you, could I have some bottled for later? I would love to purchase this stein from you as well. It’s such magnificent craftsmanship.”
He beams and nods, happily filling several bottles of the wine for me.
“I thought you didn’t like sweets,” Einar says.
“I don’t usually. But alcohol doesn’t really count.”
“I see. Maybe we’ll have to find something that makes you change your mind then,” he says, inching closer to me.
There is something predatory in his eyes, the way he looks at me when he says it, that makes me wonder if he’s even talking about food at all. I glance away from his intense gaze, not able to endure the million different ways it makes me feel.
The kind vendor hands us a leather bag with four bottles inside. When I go to pay him for the stein, he shakes his head, insisting that it is his gift to me.
I dip into my purse and dig out a couple of the heavier coins. I don't look at them too closely, because it's still bizarre for me that they hold the face of the man standing next to me.
I press the coins into the vendor's hand, not wanting his kindness to go unpaid, and he takes them graciously. Einar watches wordlessly but shoots me an inquisitive glance when we leave.
"I thought it was more than worth it to finally feel a little bit warm." I shrug as though it was nothing for me to be able to give that man something for his trouble.
And indeed, I already feel markedly less frigid, like tiny embers are being stoked within me to warm me from the inside out.
"Perhaps I should go back and buy several more jugs since you seem to be in a constant state of freezing at the castle," he offers, a hint of teasing in his gaze.
"Perhaps you should. Or better yet, we could line every inch of my rooms in these glorious thermal rocks." I gesture to the pits spaced evenly all around us.
The king laughs.
"Those are usually used to heat vast outdoor spaces, specifically where they would be safer than a fire, but also because they would be stifling in a smaller area."
"It's a chance I'm willing to take so that I might be able to feel some of my extremities on occasion." I wiggle my gloved fingers for emphasis, giving him a wry smile.
He huffs out another chuckle, but it is drowned out by a decidedly louder huff nearby.
I glance around him for the source of the noise, only to find another tent, this one larger than any we have seen so far. The wooden sign hanging from the open doorway has Jokithan words and the image of a horse engraved on it.
"Horses," I say aloud, angling myself toward the tent. I have to admit I am curious what would merit them being brought to the festival.
"You could say that," the king mutters as he trails behind me without objection.
Khijha growls in protest at the smell of the animals inside, but I press on anyway, knowing she won’t stray far from my side.
Ten stalls line each side of the tent. Most of them are empty, save for a few.
The horses they contain, much like everything else in this kingdom, are larger than the average steed. They have thick, long white hair, like that of cows I’d seen once in the countryside. Their hooves are taller, wider, and denser than normal as well, no doubt to survive in this icy region.
