Page 59 of A Legacy of Storms and Starlight

Raif traced his fingers along her forearm, stopping at the lace sleeve. “You have her owl, her bravery, her beauty.”

The orblights flickered before Zylah could reply, and she looked up to see the shadow of the waiter beyond the curtains.

“Enter,” Raif said dryly.

Platters of food were laid out before them, steaming meats and vegetables, bowls of grains and fruit in combinations Zylah had never seen before. The waiter poured wine and left the bottle on the table. “The entertainment begins shortly, sir.” He bowed low before adjusting the curtains and leaving them alone with the food.

Zylah had never seen a meal like it. “This is… more food than I have ever seen on one table before.”

“Try this,” Raif said, smiling brightly as he piled steaming meat onto a plate for her. Everything smelled delicious, and gods did it taste good. The meat melted in her mouth, and the sweet wine complemented everything perfectly. Raif only started eating once he was satisfied with her approval, and Zylah smiled at him over her wine glass. Though he often used humour to coat everything, there were moments when he let that façade slip, moments when she felt he was trying to let her in.

He took a sip of his wine, his gaze fixed on her again. “I wanted to wait a little while longer to tell you, but tonight isn’t just about pleasure.”

“Oh?” Zylah ate a spoonful of the spiced grains before her expression could give away her disappointment.

“We’re here to watch and listen. Boss’s orders.”

Zylah could tell without peeking out from her hood that he was watching her, waiting for her reaction. “Was dinner part of those orders?” she asked, hoping the question sounded light.

“Not entirely. I did think the distraction would be good for you.” He placed a hand over hers. “I wanted to thank you, actually. For bringing Mala back. I didn’t think about what it would mean to Asha. Thank you.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze before picking up his fork again.

Zylah decided to push aside the disappointment. He’d asked her to dinner, instead of coming alone. Instead, she sifted through the questions she had for him, the thoughts she’d been waiting for a chance to discuss. She drew in a breath, resting her cutlery on either side of her plate. “Right before you killed the Aster, something swarmed it. I think they might have been sprites.”

“They were. They were drawn to you.”

“Seven gods.Why?Why didn’t they help Mala?” She gripped a hand against the edge of the sofa between her and Raif, willing Mala’s lifeless body from her mind.

Raif’s hand found hers, flexing their fingers together and easing her hand from its vice grip. “You know your gods were Fae, don’t you?”

She knew what he was doing. Distracting her from Mala. “Jilah mentioned it when we met, but I never really had time to dwell on it.” It was true, so much had happened.

“There were nine of them, to begin with, or so the story goes.” He piled more food onto her plate as he spoke. “They arrived here from another world after theirs was ravaged by war.”

“Another world?” She took another sip of the sweet wine as she watched him.

“Yes, Liss. There are more worlds than just ours out there. Pallia, Imala, Altais—all seven of thegodsyou know of.”

“And the other two?”

A quiet moan drifted from a nearby booth, the dimple in Raif’s cheek on display as he caught her raised eyebrows. “They had a different idea for how this world should be formed and began experimenting, using dark magic to make servants and sentinels and all kinds of atrocities.”

Zylah held a hand to her mouth. “Like the Asters?” she whispered.

“Like the Asters, yes. But those were not the worst of their creations, by far.”

Zylah didn’t want to know what could be worse than the Asters. Stringed instruments began to play quietly somewhere in the restaurant, and she willed herself to stay in the moment. The food was incredible. She listened to the quiet chatter as she ate, savouring every bite and trying each new item Raif put on her plate until the wordDalsteadsnagged her attention. Zylah stilled, looking up at him.

He raised a finger to his lips, shaking his head. They could be heard by others just as easily, Zylah understood from the gesture. “Is the food to your liking? The location?” he asked.

“It is.” It felt wrong to be enjoying herself when Mala was gone, but she couldn’t deny that she was enjoying the experience, enjoying being here with him.

Raif smiled brightly again. “Tell me about your work at the gardens.”

She did. Every time she finished an explanation, he asked her a new question; most were serious, but some to elicit a laugh as they ate their meal. They’d long since finished eating by the time Zylah had explained all the new plants she’d been cultivating at the base of the waterfall, ones she hoped would filter the water more successfully, and the young sun lilies she’d planted all along the terraces in the warmer dome.

Raif leaned back amongst the cushions—this side of the booth stretched back further than Zylah had realised—the soft expanse of sofa almost enough to lie down on. Zylah didn’t doubt, from the sounds surrounding them, that some were doing just that.

The stringed instruments were still being played somewhere, soft and sweet, and the orblights flickered just as Zylah intended to steer the conversation back to Raif.

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