Page 4 of The Minotaur's Little Peach
Something in his expression makes my pulse quicken. The way he looks at me—like what I'm saying matters, like I matter—is unfamiliar and intoxicating.
The sun sits lower now, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink that reflect off the water. The air is finally beginning to cool, though warmth still radiates from the sand beneath our feet.
"I should probably head back soon," I say reluctantly, though every part of me wants to stay here as the stars come out. "Master Theren will want his coin, and he gets irritable when he has to wait."
"Of course." Korrun nods, but I catch something that might be disappointment flickering across his features. "Don't want to keep you from your responsibilities."
We turn and begin the walk back toward the city, our pace slower than before. Neither of us seems eager for this to end.
"Thank you," I say as the buildings come back into view. "For the fruit, and for... this. It's been nice."
"Nice?" He raises an eyebrow, that teasing grin returning. "That's the best you can do?"
"Fine. It's been wonderful." The admission comes easier than it should. "Happy now?"
"Getting there."
We reach the edge of the market district, where the stone streets begin again and the familiar bustle of evening commerce surrounds us. The transition from sand to stone feels jarring after the softness of the beach.
"This is where I leave you," I say, though I make no move to go.
"Seems like it." Korrun's voice has gone quiet again, thoughtful. "Soreya?"
"Yes?"
"I'm glad you told me my frame was oversized."
I laugh, surprised by the genuine warmth in my chest. "I'm glad you didn't take offense."
We stand there for a moment longer, neither quite ready to break whatever this is between us. Finally, I force myself to take a step backward.
"Goodnight, Korrun."
"Goodnight."
I turn and walk toward Master Theren's shop, feeling his eyes on me until I turn the corner. The familiar scents of dust and spice fill the air as merchants close up for the day, but everything feels different somehow. Brighter.
My hand goes to the coins in my pocket, solid proof that today actually happened. That a minotaur trainer bought all my fruit just to hear my name, then spent the afternoon walking on the beach with me like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I catch my reflection in a shop window as I pass, and there's something in my face I haven't seen in years. Something light and hopeful and almost giddy.
I'm smiling.
Really, truly smiling in a way that makes my cheeks ache and my eyes bright. When was the last time that happened? When was the last time anything made me feel this alive, this present in my own skin?
The coins jingle softly as I walk, a musical reminder of unexpected kindness and easy laughter. Of amber eyes that looked at me like I was worth seeing.
1
SOREYA
TWO YEARS LATER
The scent of crushed mint mingles with sun-baked stone in our small backyard, creating the kind of peaceful afternoon that still feels like a gift I don't quite deserve. Two years, and I'm still not used to having a space that's truly mine—ours. The terracotta planters overflow with herbs I've been cultivating, while the young fruit trees we planted last spring stretch their branches toward the sky, heavy with the promise of next season's harvest.
I run my fingers along a low-hanging branch, checking the small green pears that will be ready for market in another month. Master Theren pays me better rates now that I'm a supplier rather than an employee, though I suspect Korrun's occasional visits to "discuss business" have something to do with the improved terms. The old man never could quite meet those amber eyes without fidgeting.
The familiar rhythm of heavy hooves on stone reaches me before I see him, and something warm uncurls in my chest the way it always does. Even after all this time, the sound of Korrun coming home still makes my pulse quicken. I glance up from the pear tree, automatically scanning the backyard entrance.
