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Sybella laughed. “She’ll grow into them.”
“She’s adorable.”
“You can hold her,” Cavis offered.
“Uh, maybe later. I haven’t had much experience.” And Piperia looked far too small and breakable.
Cavis gave me a knowing look. His eyes were no longer dreamy, his gaze no longer focused on the distance. Instead, he seemed alert, those eyes sharp, his attention on the love of his life and his tiny daughter.
Lorian’s words came back to me. Cavis had been found wandering alone in the forest as a child. He didn’t have a family, so he’d built one himself.
Cavis pressed a kiss to the baby’s forehead, and she chortled up at him. Sybella grinned at them both, and something in my chest wrenched.
Mama’s gaze was on me while I watched the happy couple, a grin stretching my face.“I’m going to get married one day. Here in the village.”
“No, you won’t, Prisca. Such things are not for you.”
My eyes burned, and my throat ached until I could barely swallow.
I was just tired. That’s all this was.
I could feel Lorian’s gaze clinging to me, with that strange connection between us. I refused to glance at him, taking one of the low, plush seats next to Rythos instead.
By some silent agreement, no one spoke of the war, of Regner, or of anything that would kill the lighthearted mood. Someone brought in more food, and I watched the others eat, listening to Marth brag about a sea creature he’d once had to kill to prevent it from overturning his ship. Rythos caught my eye and shook his head, and I suppressed a grin.
I must have drifted off, because the light was low when I opened my eyes once more.
I yawned. “I need to go meet Asinia.” I glanced at the bottles of some kind of fae alcohol that had appeared while I’d been napping. “Don’t drink too much.”
Marth belched, and Galon slapped him upside the head. Rythos sent me a bleary grin. I sighed. “Clearly, that warning is coming in late.”
Lorian looked perfectly sober, although the bottle in his hands was half full. “Want a taste?” His voice was a low taunt, but his eyes gleamed with that feral light.
I shifted my attention to the others. They suddenly got busy looking elsewhere. Sybella grinned at me from where she was pacing back and forth with Piperia.
Taking a step toward Lorian, I raised my eyebrow at him, even as my cheeks flushed.
“Pass,” I said, and several sniggers broke out.
“Pretty Prisca,” Lorian murmured. “Why don’t you come sit over here and—”
Sybella strode over and placed Piperia in his arms. I’d expected Lorian to freeze, the way I would have done. Instead, he cradled the baby close, expertly holding her as he pressed a kiss to her tiny head.
The sight did something disturbing to my heart. I ducked out of the tent, wishing I’d never seen the fae prince looking entirely too comfortable with a baby in his arms.
That image was now imprinted on my mind forever.
The cooler air helped wake me up a little as I walked toward The Hearth. While The Hearth was supposed to be the center of life—the meeting place where community was built, according to Margie—I’d already noticed that the fae and hybrids ate in shifts. Never together.
I found Asinia sitting at a table, drinking a cup of ale. She grinned at me, and I slipped into the seat across from her.
“I fell asleep,” I admitted.
“I just got here. Your brother insisted on going through security protocols for the hundredth time.”
I didn’t need to ask which brother she was referring to. “Is everything okay between you and Demos?”
She groaned. “He makes me crazy. I had to listen to his cynical theories about life every day when I was in that cell. Some days, I swear I would’ve rather been tortured.”
