Page 65 of A Forgery of Fate

“If I may,” he said, “I’d recommend the fried noodles with the perch and black vinegar sauce. It’s a specialty of the castle.”

I looked up, discovering a young man with a brassy-orange fish tail and purple-black hair that ballooned and deflated as if breathing.

“Thank you,” I said, taking his advice. “You must be—”

“Kunkoi.” He somersaulted down to greet me and sweptthe smoothest bow I’d ever seen. “The moment I heard that our new lady had an appetite for noodles, I knew we’d be friends. But I must admit, I thought Lord Elang was exaggerating about just how ravishing you are. Never have I been gladder to be wrong.”

“Ravishing?”I raised a brow. “He really said that?”

“No,” said Elang crisply, through locked teeth. “What Ididsay, Kunkoi, was that we wished to dine alone—”

“Yes, yes, I remember.” Kunkoi raised his wine gourd. “But I wasn’t at the welcoming reception. It’d be rude if I missed the chance to greet the Lady Saigas.”

“Now you’ve met,” said Elang. “You may take your leave.”

Kunkoi rolled up his sleeves. “Five mortal years in exile, and you really haven’t changed at all, my friend.” He uncapped the gourd. “I’m afraid you’ve married a killjoy, Lady Saigas. Your husband didn’t even want a party to hail his return, let alone celebrate your wedding.”

Elang’s lips thinned with displeasure. “Parties are a waste of Yonsar’s scarce resources. Same as wine.”

“It’s an endless gourd,” Kunkoi protested. When Elang changed the nearest goblet into a teacup, he grumbled, “And they say dragons are mercurial. How is it I work for the one who never changes?”

In response, Elang calmly folded back his sleeve. He was knotting ours together, both for our act and so I wouldn’t keep floating off my seat.

“You’re newly married,” Kunkoi went on. “No one will begrudge you some fun. It’s not like you have a court or actual subjects. A lord of your standing ought to have every fish and mollusk still in these wasted waters invited to feast, butinstead you and Lady Saigas are in this grit-ridden hall, eating by your lonesome selves.” He kicked his fins at the sand banks below. “No sprawling vines of water poppies and simmer-lilies, no boisterous music, no ribbon dancers. Even that pet demon of yours isn’t here.”

Elang moved closer to me by what felt an enormous inch. “The only person I desire to eat with is my wife. Starting today and going forward.”

A flush came over my cheeks, and I had to stare into my noodles to keep from giving myself away. Bolts of Saino, he was good. Even I almost believed him.

Kunkoi certainly did, from the grin that spread across his face. “Interesting,” he mused, pouring wine into a single silver cup. “I thought all your heartless heart cared about was tea and Yonsar, but it seems I was wrong. Lady Saigas must be special indeed.”

He handed me the cup, then capped the wine gourd with a flourish. “Lady Saigas, you must tell me how you two met. Don’t spare any details.”

I expected Elang to cut in and steer the topic away. After all, he’d said he wanted to eat alone. But he was quiet. Listening.

Demon turds,I thought. “I…I was trying to sell a painting to the governor and went to the wrong house,” I said, semi-truthfully. “I fell onto his roses.”

“You fell onto his prized sanheia bushes, and he didn’t turn you into a worm?” Kunkoi took the chair opposite me. “It truly must have been love at first sight.”

I had to hold in a snort. “Something like that.”

“Elang never does anything unpremeditated. He probablyhates you for catching him off guard. How did he sweep you off your feet?”

“With money,” I replied. “Lots of it.”

Kunkoi laughed, thinking I was joking. “Very unromantic. VeryElang.”

Elang looked like he wanted to strangle Kunkoi—and me. With some restraint, he straightened, fists uncurling at his sides. “Are you finished? You ought to be inspecting the guard and not prattling on with my wife.”

Every time Elang saidmy wife,I took a massive bite of noodles.

Kunkoi groaned. “What did Caisan tell you? That croaker, I told him not to accost you on your wedding day. He’s been in a sour mood since the last storm, when Nazayun practically pummeled us into the—”

“Kunkoi.” With one word, Elang extinguished the merman’s good humor.

“Ah, right.” Kunkoi cleared his throat and cast me a bright smile. “How about more watercress, Lady Saigas? It’s good for the gills.”

“What are the storms?” I asked.

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