Page 96 of A Forgery of Fate

“I hope that kiss didn’t catch you off guard,” I blurted, unable to help myself. “I would have asked first. Ishouldhave asked first.”

Elang took off his spectacles. He looked tired. “Don’task.”

I blinked. “What?”

“A wife wouldn’t ask her husband if she could kiss him. She’d simply do it.”

How did he do that—pretend like nothing had happened?

It was an act,I reminded myself. Elang knew that as well as I did. Yet try as I might, I couldn’t forget the sharp flutter in my stomach. That undertone of desperation and urgency when our lips had met, as though he’d wanted the kiss as much as I had. And then there was that ghost of a pulse I’d felt in his chest….

“Oh,” I said belatedly. Now I was embarrassed I’d been embarrassed.

Silence stretched between us, heavy and awkward. Was he staying here tonight? Neither of us dared broach the topic of sleeping arrangements, and as I unhooked my cloak, Elang observed outside the window. “Look outside. Nanhira occupies higher waters than Yonsar; you can see the moon fromhere.”

The moon. Once I found it, I couldn’t stop staring. Round and full, its appearance was magnified by the lens of the sea. “It’s like a pearl,” I murmured.

“I used to think it was mine, when I was a boy. I’d climb every dune and rock I could and try to reach it.”

It wasn’t often that he spoke about his past. I lowered my guard, just a little. “The Sages say when the moon is brightest, so is your longing for home,” I said. “I finally understand what they meant.”

“Your heart is your home,” we spoke, almost at the same time.

I looked at him in surprise, but he’d turned off to the side. He changed the topic. “Shanizhun tells me you’ve been staying up late every night to paint.”

I tilted my head. “What else does she tell you?”

“That you’ve gotten better at painting dragons. That Kunkoi’s been flirting with you.”

“Are you jealous?”

“If I were jealous, he wouldn’t be snoring like thunder across the hall. He’d be shark bait.”

I laughed. Elang could be funny, maybe even charming, when he wanted to.

“I should check on Kunkoi,” he said. “He has a weaknessfor wine, and he surely imbibed in excess tonight. I might need to stay with him until morning.”

It was an excuse to let me have the room alone, and I appreciated it. But as he turned to leave, my hand went up to my butterfly pendant. “Will you tell me the story of Lady Liayin and the shepherd before you go?”

Elang twisted back, uncertainty furrowing his brow. “Now?”

“I won’t be able to sleep if I don’t know what happens to them,” I confessed.

“I’m not good at telling stories.”

“Try your best.”

To my surprise, he sat on the chair opposite the bed. “It’s a famous story in Ai’long, the tale of Liayin,” he began. “She spun silk unlike any other. A gown woven when she was happy would bring its wearer great luck. A sash spun when she was angry might become a ward against demons. There was a war between the merfolk and dragons back then, and as Liayin’s reputation spread, her parents sought to marry her off to a heavenly prince in exchange for aid from the gods.”

Elang’s words settled into a steady cadence. “She became betrothed to the Crown Prince himself—a high honor. But Liayin did not wish to wed a stranger. And so, night after night, she rose to the surface, where she could weep alone and unseen. Her tears became pearls, and as they washed away with the tides, she had an idea. Rather than let them go to waste, she gathered the pearls in a kelp net and ferried them to shore, where a young shepherd later chanced upon them. He shared the pearls with his village, but he would not say where he had found them. Instead, he waited patiently on the shore until Liayin at last returned, weeping as before.

“When he worked up the courage to approach her, she leapt back into the sea. But he played his flute, so sweetly that she couldn’t help but listen. She returned, and slowly the two became friends. They fell in love.”

I leaned forward. I’d always loved a good love story.

“Months passed, and as Liayin’s marriage to the Crown Prince approached, she and the shepherd decided to run away together. One night she cut her hair so that no one from home might find or follow her. With the last of her magic, she transformed her tail into legs.

“She married the shepherd and lived happily among humans for many years. But one day, her children found the silk robes she had woven. They were too radiant for the mortal world, and when her daughter brought them out of Liayin’s hiding place, a crab on the beach spied them. The next day, when Liayin went to the river to gather water, the merfolk dragged her back into Ai’long.”

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