Page 160 of A Forgery of Fate

There he was. The red string was wrapped twice around his wrist, jade butterflies dangling, and he was carrying my lantern. Its light bathed his face, making his gray eyes shine. As he beheld me, there was a spark of recognition in them, growing brighter with each second.

Tru,he’d called me. I’d never given him my name.

My parents exchanged sly smiles, and Baba tossed my scarf back over my neck.

“Don’t stay out too late,” he said. Then Mama pushed me out the door.

I stumbled over an icy step. I wasn’t about to fall, but a firm hand caught me anyway, the ends of our red strings entwining as he laced his fingers with mine.

I looked up at Elang, daring to hope, not daring to speak. Around us, everywhere I looked, waterbells began floating down the moonlit canals, heads bobbing. The petals unfolded as they floated, and under the light of the floating lanterns, they glowed. Just like I had painted. Just like I’d foreseen.

I reached out to hold the other side of the lantern, a tingle glittering down my spine.

“Took you long enough,” I whispered.

He drew me close, his heart pounding against my ear, steady and strong—and a little too fast. I took his face in my hands, studying the side of him that used to be dragon. I traced his hairline and ran my fingers across his cheek, down the slope of his nose, ruddy from the cold, with freckles on both sides as if they’d always been there. Lastly, I landed on the firm bow of his lips. A masterpiece, this face. Every line on it was perfect. Except one thing. I straightened his spectacles.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, sounding genuinely nervous.

“I’m thinking I miss the dragon, just a little.” I patted his cheek. “But this is a good face too. My mother will be pleased that your ears are even thinner than they were before. A good trait for a potential husband.”

“Potential?”

“Our marriage wasn’t real. You’ll have to woo me again.”

“Itwasreal.” The spark in his eyes grew brighter than even my lanternlight, almost golden, and a corner of his mouth played into a smile. “But I’m willing to start over, if that’s what you desire.”

“I’m not going to make it easy for you.”

“I know.” His eyes shone rich and clear, two raw coals drinking me in as though I were fire. He bent down, and I lifted in expectation of a kiss, but he merely tucked my arm through his. To my indignance, his smile widened. “We’ll have to hurry if we want to beat the crowds.”

“Where are we going?”

As soon as I asked, I knew.

“Tru,” he said, tipping my chin toward his. “My love. Tell me…do you fancy noodles?”

I grinned like a fool, unable to help myself. “Just kiss me, you fiend.” I took him by the collar, drawing his lips to mine. “I always fancy noodles.”

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