“That place has meatballs on a stick,” I said, seeing a man receive his order. He handed one stick to the pretty girl beside him. She had a poofy tail, like one of those super-fluffy white cats. “Unless you don’t like balls.”
When Rowan smiled, that snaggletooth flashed. “Depends on the balls.”
Maddox would’ve laughed at that. My grumpy captain had the humor of a twelve-year-old boy. To maintain his stern reputation when I’d first met him, he’d walked away to laugh at some of the perverted shit that flew out of my mouth. Now, he didn’t hide those laughs from me.
My chin quaked.
“Evan?” Rowan stopped walking.
“I’m okay.” I smiled at him. “Just in my head.”
“You’re a dreadful liar. But whatever. If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine.” He continued walking, and his grip on my wrist loosened before he joined our hands instead.
No, he wouldn’t push me to tell him. That wasn’t his style. Yet, as his warm palm slid against mine, his touch said what he didn’t: that he was there for me.
“I was thinking of Maddox. I… I miss him and Briar. A lot.”
“You’ll see them again.” Rowan’s tone was softer than usual. “So stop pouting. It makes you look like a sad toad.”
He was trying to comfort me in his own special way. And it worked.
“A toad?” I put a pep in my step, bouncing. Then, I lunged at him, throwing both arms around his neck. “Ribbit, ribbit.”
Rowan’s eyes widened, and he looked at me like I… well, like I was indeed a freaking man-sized amphibian. But then that snaggletooth reappeared, and he laughed. Hard. “It’s not every day I get attacked by such an adorable toad.”
“Well, it’s not every day thatIget to almost fall to my death from a rooftop. Or almost get ripped off by a demi-falcon selling phony grimoires and potions. That’s all thanks to you.”
“Glad I could be of service.” Rowan rolled his eyes. There was something playful about it. “Trouble seems to follow you everywhere, so I’m sure I’ll—”
He came to a sharp stop and spun to the side, his gaze darting around us. All humor drained from his face.
“What’s wrong?”
He twisted in the other direction. “Do you smell that?”
Without giving me the chance to respond, he took off. We jogged for several paces, passing more decorated trees and statues adorned with green garland. I definitely smelled something but couldn’t place it. Too many other smells were mingled in for me to know which one he meant. Cooking meat, caramelized onions, bread fresh from the oven, something roasted and nutty, and traces of sweet.
Rowan’s gaze roamed the area. “Over there!”
He then shot off toward a food stall to the left. A man worked behind it, messing with some sort of furnace. He removed a tray and shook it once before grinding seasoning on top, then setting the tray aside. The closer we got, the more my mouth watered.
“Evenin’,” the man greeted us. His medium-length black hair was tucked behind both ears, though one strand fell forward and had a silver ornament woven within it, like a decorative braid. Pale green eyes were a sharp contrast to his bronzed skin. “You lads hungry?”
His accent reminded me of Rowan’s. A slight inflection.
“Always,” I responded, eyeing the goods on the table. “What do you have?”
He stepped over to one side of the stand, where paper containers lined up in various rows. “An assortment of fire-roasted nuts. Chestnuts, almonds, and pecans. Some are sweetened with brown sugar, cinnamon, or maple, and others are savory with my own blend of peppers that range from mild to the level of a fire-breathin’ dragon.”
“You’re from Solynia,” Rowan said in a tone that hovered somewhere between disbelief and excitement.
“Solynia?” I asked.
“Aye,” the man answered, then slapped a hand to his beefy chest. “The name’s Axel.”
Rowan’s eyes widened. “What brings you north?”
“The hope for a better life,” Axel said. “My shop caught fire and burned to the ground. Tried to rebuild from the ashes but never found my footin’ again, so I packed up and left Solynia. My travels eventually brought me here. Have another shop now, and it’s doin’ well enough to get by. Festivals like these bring in good business.”
