Page 67 of A City of Flames

Darius, in broad daylight, striding towards us as he nods at each stranger passing him.

How is he—

“There you are,” he says, gesturing his hand at me with a huff. “It’s been such a pain trying to find you, Misty, truly.”

My gaze jumps from Idris, Illias, and Iker, pinching their brows together. Then Freya squinting her eyes and biting her lip as if she can’t figure out who Darius is?

What in Solaris is going on?

“Misty, our old horse?” Illias asks, looking at me to see whether he’d gather it straight away like he usually does with me but not this time.

“Old horse?” Darius jerks his head back with a frown twisting his lips. “No, no, that’s her—”

“Will you excuse us for a moment,” I cut in. My breathing becomes erratic as I clutch onto Darius’s arm, dragging him before my brothers or Freya can say a word.

“Strong grip you got there, Goldie.” He laughs, letting his steps drag from behind before I’m pushing him into the corner of a different street.

“How is it possible—” I shove him against the wall “—you’re walking around so freely, and no one is noticing who you are?”

He leans back, kicking his leg up with a casual smile. “Power of illusion, everyone around me except you right now believes I am someone completely different, sort of like a mask or glamor.”

I’ve lost all patience. Of course, that was to be the case, a Merati power—tricksters of the mind. “And you choose to steal from places without a glamor?”

His eyes shine with roguish charm. “I’m more memorable that way.”

Ugh.

“Alright, then.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Let me ask you this then: what are you doing here?”

A dangerous coquettish grin plays off him as he lowers his leg and steps away from the wall. He walks past my shoulder, and I turn with him as he spins, saying, “To give you this.” Between his index and middle finger, he holds out a note.

I pluck it out of his hands and unfold it. I can just about make out the name Havenwood Tavern and Draggards scribbled down—if I squint hard enough, or turn it in different angles. “What’s this for?”

“It’s where I want you to meet me tonight.”

“Tonight?” My brows jump at the insanity of him. “There is no way will I go anywhere you tell me to.”

“It’s not a choice, Goldie.” Humorously smirking down at me, he waits a few seconds for me to say something, but a man full of trinkets and posters in his hands, limps down the road.

“Help us capture the Golden Thief, and we will win a mass of awards from the queen!” He yells, sprawling them across the streets, his withered hand shaking as he passes a poster to Darius with a smile.

“We will catch that thief; don’t you worry, sir,” Darius cheers him on as the man continues down his path. Turning to look back at the poster, his lips pucker as he nods his head. “Whoever the artist is, they’re incredible in their work, not a single fault,” he mumbles thoughtfully. “Even my mask is perfect.”

Unbelievable. “You’re loving all of this, aren’t you?”

Huffing a laugh, he folds the poster and tucks it into the pockets of his breeches. “Having people say they will capture the Golden Thief right to me? Sure, but seeing your face turn red whenever I even near you is more enjoyable.”

Narrowing my gaze at the irritating wink of his, exasperated, I look to the side of him then at the other. “Where’s your little friend?”

“Stealing bread for himself.”

I press my lips together into a scornful smile. “Nice to see you taught him all your tricks.”

“Only the best.” He grins before another person walks past, carrying jasmine flowers in a basket this time. Darius looks over his shoulder, picking at one without the lady noticing as he turns towards me and extends it in front of us. “Here.”

My fingers stretch out to grab it hesitantly as my brows close together. “What’s this for?”

“You always smell of jasmine.” He shrugs a shoulder, still grinning. “Take it as a form of my appreciation for your help in stealing a prized pendant.”

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