Page 32 of For the Love of the Gods

I walked up to him until I was close enough to see the soft lines on his face. “Glad to know I haven’t lost my sparkle.”

“You have an uncanny ability to be jovial at the most inappropriate times.”

“Some would say that’s a laudable trait.” Then I turned, flicking him with the wash of my hair and began walking.

Dominic’s long strides caught up with me immediately. He bent down as we walked, nose sloppily brushing my hair and the shell of my ear. “Whoever said that would be an idiot.”

I stopped abruptly and turned towards him. “Color me stupid, then.”

Dominic chuckled and I could feel the hot breeze too close to my face. “Don’t act like you aren’t smart. Humility isn't a good look on you.”

“Be careful, Dominic,” I said, shocked at the intensity of the teasing lilt in my own voice. It almost sounded flirtatious. “That almost sounded like a compliment.”

Dominic’s voice rumbled in his throat as he warmed up to respond. “We came here to check on things, not stand in the middle of the street wanting to strangle each other.”

I pouted dramatically. “But I was having so much fun.”

Dominic’s eyes narrowed, his gaze lingering somewhere between my chin and nose. “Start walking.”

“Spoilsport,” I tossed over my shoulder as I took off down the street.

“Wench,” Dominic shot back, at my side again.

The tightness in my throat I felt in Laurel’s shop had eased some at our bantering. There was even a pleasant expression on my face as we walked.

A bit of a crowd started to gather, people coming out of their shops as we walked along the main street, lined with shops. The structure of the town was still fairly medieval, only built up enough to support basic trade rather than the full-scale services of the Upperworld.

People balked when they saw us, not unused to seeing their gods but respectful of the power and authority we held.

Dominic got appreciative glances and polite smiles.

I got fewer smiles and glares that ranged from annoyed to outright combative.

For those who did smile at me, I tried to give them a genuine one in return, silently thanking them.

Dominic seemed to know everyone, or at least pretended to. I could feel every nod of his head. We were pressed closely together in our walk, not embracing but clearly together.

I gave him the benefit of the doubt and assumed he did, in fact, know these people. A grace that was hardly extended to me.

There were people who didn’t blame me, likely the ones who were smiling kindly at me. It was the people who were scowling who prevented me from sharing any details about what happened. I was embarrassed that these people had so easily accepted a cruel version of me, self-conscious of how I’d presented myself to make them think that.

If that was their baseline, they would only turn the facts of what happened in the most negative spin, doubling down on the blame.

I’d admit to being scared. Scared of the people who had seen me grow up and seen me rule with an even hand since I’d ascended the throne confirm every horrible thing my father tried to cultivate.

It was the ultimate act of kindness, of trust, to give someone the benefit of the doubt despite a rumor or accusation or situation you didn’t witness. No one gave me that. So yeah, I’d at least extend it to Dominic that despite how callous and hard he sometimes seemed, he cared about his people enough to recognize a face.

As we turned a corner onto the wider street, lined with stands instead of established shops, the mass of people seemed to double.

Most gave us a wide breadth out of respect, but it was getting harder to do so as the morning market expanded with people looking for goods.

I looked up to Dominic to see if the crowd affected him like it did me. I could feel the heat radiating from his exposed arm, especially when it brushed against my own, but I couldn’t tell if he was tense from residual annoyance or something else.

I stared at the hard line of his jaw, helplessly, for a second too long. Long enough that I couldn’t see someone approaching, someone coming too close. He shoulder-checked me as he passed, jerking me back with a stinging pain through the right side of my body.

I stumbled into Dominic, moved by the force of his passing.

“Woah,” he steadied, pressing his chest to my back and two hands into the curve of my shoulders. I moved my head up and around to look at him. Seeing mostly the underside of the chin, but also the valley between his eyebrows as he searched for the person who’d hit me.

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