Page 22 of The Reluctant Queen
A flash of surprise widened his eyes. Saka, it appeared, was a no-holds-barred kind of gal. She wasn’t wrong. Berim, Ehmet, whoeverhe was, would, without a doubt, keep her close and protected as they absconded to the riotous streets of Rohilavol.
The roads by the Institute and the public hall, near the symposium, were lively around the clock, but in an elevated and somewhat reserved manner. Scholars and academics from all walks of life tramped between lectures during the daylight hours and back to their inns in the evenings. Some would venture out again to a nearby social establishment, but most would remain enclosed in the bar of the building where they’d be sleeping that night. That was upper Rohilavol.
Lower Rohilavol was a different beast. “We may run into Baron Turkhane and his...lady friend down here tonight.”
“They don’t know Berim and Saka.” She shrugged, her arm still linked in his own.
“That won’t help us if they recognize our faces, you silly goose.” He shoved into her, very lightly. He didn’t want to bowl her over.
She laughed, and the tinkling sound seemed to ping around inside the cavity of his chest. “Did you really just call me a silly goose?”
“It’s something Berim would say.”
“Would he also call me a ‘sausage?’” She pushed back into him, sending them off kilter for a second.
“If Miss Saka was being particularly snappy, then yes.”
“Oh...oh!That’s clever, because sausages snap when you cook them. I think I might use that one.”
He grinned into the night.
It took a while to get down to lower Rohilavol since they’d needed to swing wide around the upper portion of the city, where they’d almost certainly be recognized. Thus, they came into town from the north rather than the west. Ehmet figured that if they stayed out late enough, they’d probably be able to return to Hewran Hall via the Institute-district, a much shorter path.
Soon they began to meet more and more people along the streets. Most were heading the same direction as them, but a few folks, already jug-bitten beyond belief, lolled around in darkened doorways or rambled the roads with no destination in mind. The side streets were relatively empty, withthe bulk of the local population in the square, where the Annual Raucous Festival That Had No Proper Permits was taking place.
Neither this King Hethtar nor his father before him, for all his other faults, had ever minded the merrymaking, even if things did tend to get a bit debauched by the end of each night. It was only once a year, and the people loved it.
Berim and Saka strolled into the bustling festivities, a stablehand and a farmer’s daughter, ready to embrace the enchantment of the nighttime festivities. The square was alight with hundreds of floating lanterns, crafted by the firebearers. Flames were held aloft by windshifters in some areas, in others they sat atop tall pillars of rock pulled up by earthshapers, to be pushed down again come morning.
A cool mist batted against Ehmet’s face and the same must have happened to Hevva, for she reached up to touch one cheek before peering up at the sky. He looked up too, and the first stars twinkled back at them.Not rain, watercoursers.Everyone was engaged, no single magic-type had to bear the burden of lighting or cooling the festivities on their own.
The masses were chaotic, pushing them to and fro as they merged into a flow of revelers. It was packed, and would be all too easy to get separated, even in the open square. “Don’t let go of me.”
“What?” She couldn’t hear him over the noise.
“I said”—he raised his volume a bit—“don’t let—”
“BETS! PLACE YER BETS HERE!” a booming voice rang out, louder than the rest, likely helped along by air magic.
Ehmet gave up and shifted his left arm so he could lock his fingers with hers rather than relying on the slippery palm-on-forearm grip they had going. He squeezed her hand, and she returned the gesture.
She shouted a question at him through the din.
“What?” He couldn’t hear her over the crowd. Leaning his big head down near her more reasonably sized pate, he offered his ear.
“What are they betting on?” she asked, hot breath lapping against the shell of his ear.
Ehmet stifled a groan as his manhood pulsed in response to her words. “There’s a fight starting soon. Do you want to watch?”
“Yes!” she screamed.
He jolted away, shocked by the volume.
Her free hand came up to pull him back down to her. “Sorry,” she murmured in his ear as her palm splayed across the back of his head. And then, shekissedhim.
Well, on the ear. But the action was totally unexpected. His body responded in kind.
“A kiss to make it better.” She laughed.
