Page 43 of A Legacy of Storms and Starlight

“You said it yourself, not all mating bonds are a good thing.” Zylah was still restless from her kiss with Raif, but every muscle screamed as she walked to the window.

“Indeed.”

They held each other’s gaze for a moment, until Zylah looked away, for fear that if he looked too long he’d know precisely what she’d been doing with Raif. “I’ve joined the uprising. I want to help other Fae.”

When she looked back for his response, Holt was already by the door, a hand resting on the knob. “It’s a worthy cause,” he said with a tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I have to go. No training tomorrow; I have commitments in the morning. Consider it a rest day.” His eyes darted to her shoulder for a moment, the one she so desperately wanted to sink in hot water. He didn’t wait for a response, the door clicking shut behind him.

Zylah slumped into the chair by the window, pressing a hand to her lips, and for the first time since the incident, thought about the attack by the river. She’d assumed they were there for her, but the way Raif reacted, it was as if it were an everyday occurrence for him. He’d turned one of them to ash with his bare hands. And she’d kissed him. She exhaled slowly, looking out over the city until the lamplights blinked on and her heartbeat returned to normal.

When she finally settled down for the night, she dragged her blanket from the bed and curled up on Holt’s lounger, studying the map further and plotting out all the places she’d like to visit. The following day, she’d collect the ingredients for the poultices, but in return, she expected the truth from Raif. She saw no reason why work and pleasure should have to mix, and if Raif intended to bring down Arnir, Zylah wanted in.

Chapter Seventeen

Raif was waiting for her the next morning. “I’ve already spoken to Jilah.” His smile was wide, and Zylah didn’t miss the way his eyes roved over her body. “He’s happy to let you go, provided you bring some besa cuttings back for him.”

Zylah looked around him, towards the entrance to the botanical gardens as Kopi flew down to her shoulder and quietly hooed. Jilah and the children were nowhere in sight, but that didn’t mean they weren’t inside the gardens.Focus on the poultices.She’d looked over her shoulder at every strange noise on her walk to work, every shout making her want to reach for her dagger. They’d been attacked in broad daylight the day before, and Zylah knew all too well there was nothing to stop it from happening again.

Raif moved away from the wall, his gaze raking over her in a way that sent heat flooding through her body. “Shall we,Liss?”

His lips were pressed into a firm line, and she forced herself not to stare at the dimple that had begun to show on one side of his mouth, not to let her eyes drift to his lips. She cleared her throat. “I need to be back by lunch; Jilah needs me to cover for him this afternoon.”

“Then we’d better hurry, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover.” He winked, and Zylah rolled her eyes. He held a basket he’d looped his arm through, raising an eyebrow as if waiting for her response.

She almost pushed off her hood to look up at him better. “If you know where we need to look, what do you need me for?”

“I know where to look,” he began, tugging at her braid, his eyes lowering to her mouth for a moment before darting back up again, “because I asked Jilah. But what plants to look for, or what they look like, is where you come in.”

Zylah held his gaze but knew she’d been turning over replies in her head for a heartbeat too long when he smirked and let go of her hair. She followed him past the morning food stalls, waving politely at the vendors she knew, but not stopping to say hello.

A guard patrol marched by and she jerked at her hood, grateful for Kopi’s reassuring weight, however tiny, on her shoulder. The owl hadn’t flown on ahead, as if he somehow knew she was going outside the city.

“That basket suits you,” she said as Raif waited for her to catch up.

He leant forward in a mocking bow, waving the basket before him in a wide swoop. “Doesn’t it just?” A quiet laugh rumbled from him as if he didn’t have a care in the world. As if they hadn’t just been attacked the day before in the middle of the street. She wondered if the humour was a front, a wall he put in place not just for the benefit of others, but for himself, too.

Whether it was or not, Zylah was grateful for Raif’s easy-going presence. She had forgotten what that felt like, to not be always looking over her shoulder or looking out for Arnir’s men. To not always be darting away from the posters of herself splattered across the city, just in case anyone noticed her standing beside one and recognised the likeness.

They passed by one of the city’s apothecaries, and she shoved aside the thoughts of her father as the scents of saffa spice and alea blossom drifted towards them, carried by the customers that came and went through the glass doors. Was he ashamed of her? Had he sent anyone to look for her?

Kopi hooted softly and flew off towards the trees near the city gates. She watched him land safely before she noticed Raif had fallen into step beside her. She knew she should be using the time to press him with questions about the uprising, about the Black Veil, about all of it, but the scents of the apothecary seemed to cling to her hood, leaving the image of her father’s face freshly etched in her mind.

“So how do you know Holt?” Raif nudged her gently with an elbow as they approached the gates, subtly pointing out two guards Zylah hadn’t noticed.

She adjusted her hood and lowered her gaze, grateful that Kopi had flown on ahead. Sometimes, walking around with an owl on her shoulder wasn’t exactly subtle, but there were enough unusual characters in Virian that usually, no one paid her any attention. The guards at the gate, though, would be a different matter. “I train with him,” she finally murmured, head down, her pace in line with the traders up ahead, slow and casual.

Arnir’s men were everywhere, now she had begun to recognise them. Not only did all the guards work for the king, but there were others stationed around the city she’d begun to identify, plain-clothed officers always overloaded with weapons, too cleanly presented to be mercenaries or bounty hunters.

Raif sighed through his nose. “So you mentioned.”

Zylah didn’t dare look up at him as they passed the guards, didn’t get to see if the expression on his face matched the irritation that lined his voice.

They crossed the bridge, hugging the wall, and Zylah looked up enough this time to see over it. It was nothing but empty grey sky as far as she could see, but she resisted the urge to lean up to the edge, to peer over. Nothing would mark her as an outsider, as a tourist, more than peering over that wall.

“You’re learning from the best, Liss,” Raif said when she didn’t reply. “Holt’s a force to be reckoned with.”

“You learnt from Holt?” She remembered his words from a few days before.I learnt from the best.

They shuffled past the traders who had stopped in the middle of the bridge, one complaining loudly to the rest about having lost his coin purse. Raif grabbed her elbow and steered her out of the way just as the trader stepped back without looking. “Holt is like a brother to me,” he admitted, releasing her arm.

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