Page 22 of Oathborn
It was a sign of the changing times. Ten years ago, when she’d first come to the city, there were few places to order food, and none so casual as this. The idea of going out, unchaperoned, was just as new of a concept, spurred on by the post-war boom. Many young soldiers returned to their homes with more money and more interest in finding joy in life, after fighting in such brutal battles.
Many more never returned, like Garrick Lockwood, who had been as close to a suitor as Zari had ever had. She shivered, thinking again of the strange man in the park and his words, of the purple smoke, the silverbane, the whispers of Blood Ember’s name. It all had to be a coincidence. The war was over. The Accords were signed.
“Zari?” Yansin asked. “Is everything alright?”
“Oh!” She blinked. Their ice cream soda had arrived and she hadn’t even noticed. “It was a long day, I’m sorry.”
He pushed the glass toward her, smiling. “This seems like what the doctor ordered then… or should I say the nurse?”
Just as she was about to take a sip, he leaned forward and brushed a bit of whipped cream over her nose.
She laughed. “I was not expecting an offensive maneuver!”
“You’re welcome to make a counter-attack.” Yansin folded his arms, as if daring her. She took the bait, swiping a glob of the cream right over his cheek. Before she could pull away, he caught her hand, and those kissable lips gently closed over the tip of her finger. A shiver raced down her spine.
“Truce?” he asked. “Or else they may throw us out of this fine establishment.”
“Indeed.” Zari smoothed her hand down her dress, pretending it had not just beenlickedby the most handsome man she’d ever met. Pretending, too, her mind wasn’t racing with imaginings of other places his lips could find. After all, Annette did have quite the collection of sordid romance novels, andZari had read most of them. “N-now,” she said, blushing at her stammer. “Tell me about yourself.”
“So direct,” he teased. “I had no idea courtship resembled a courtroom interrogation.”
“I’m not…” she found her blush worsening. “Oh! You’re incorrigible, aren’t you!”
“Guilty indeed.” He winked.
A sudden, loud clatter made both of them turn. Zari, spotting the cause of the sound, a fellow patron’s glass tipped over on the table, the customers apologizing profusely, relaxed almost immediately. Yansin, though, remained on alert. His hazel eyes had narrowed, a brightness remaining in them like the sparks of a fire, and his hand had dropped to his side, as if reaching for something no longer there.
A sword? That was Zari’s first thought, but she immediately dismissed it. Why would he have such a weapon? No enlisted soldiers wore sabers, and even the officers who did rarely ever used them, except in foolish illegal duels against each other.
Perhaps his instinct had been to reach for a pistol, though she couldn’t imagine him firing a gun, either.
“Is everything alright?” she asked, her lips twisting wryly at the irony that she was now the one concerned for him.
“Mm?” He blinked, twice, until that fiery intensity faded from his gaze. “Sorry. I was lost in thought.
“That makes two of us.”
“I am honored by the absent-minded company, then.” Over their dessert, Yansin regaled her with stories of his time at the newspaper, painting vivid pictures of the bustling newsroom, the clatter of the printing press, and the work of developing photos. In return, she talked about the hospital and her hopes of becoming a doctor. She found herself drawn to his easy charm and his warmth.
The conversation drifted to their shared experiences, the lingering echoes of the war, and the strange, unsettling events that had brought them together. As Zari talked about her concerns, Yansin listened with sincere attention.
All his playfulness vanished as he assured her, “If there haven’t been any more attacks, we have to assume the city is safe.”
“How do we know?” Zari replied. “The Accords forbade a fae from killing a human, but what about the monster, Blood Ember? That beast was no fae.”
“It hasn’t attacked in a decade. Let’s hope it remains in nursery rhymes and nightmares, not our reality.”
“I suppose it is no topic for such a nice night as tonight.” Zari toyed with the napkin on the table between them. She’d always been rubbish at small talk and this was proving to be no exception to that.
“Indeed,” Yansin smiled. “It is difficult to offer a lady a compliment when she is so focused on detailing the depth and severity of various wounds.”
Zari giggled. “What shall we talk about instead?”
“You could tell me more about your studies. You mentioned applying to that new college for women? Although that may keep us on related topics of medical concerns and wound care.”
Still smiling, she did as he requested. It was rare enough to be able to talk about her dreams of becoming a doctor. Rarer still to speak to a man who found such a thing wonderful, not strange or intimidating. All too swiftly, the clock on the wall chimed nine o’clock, and Yansin stood. “I should get you back home.”
“Oh,” she said, having not noticed just how quickly the time flew by. Yansin had an easy comfort about him, a way of listening to her that made her feel as if she was the only person in the whole ice cream shop. He never seemed distracted, nor disinterested in what she had to say.
