Luca (Veiled City #3)

Chapter Five

LUCA

C air landed on the outskirts of a quaint little village not too far from the meadow. It was a busy place, by the look of it. Creatures of all shapes and sizes traveled up and down the winding cobblestone path that split the rows of pastel-painted buildings ahead. Those who made their way inside carried empty satchels, or steered empty wheelbarrows, while anyone striding toward us had their loot piled high.

“Where are we?” I asked, shrugging my pack further up on my shoulders, not taking my eyes off the goblin-like being who was hauling what looked like loaves of bread, fresh vegetables, and a very bejeweled axe in the opposite direction to the crowd.

Their wide, triumphant smile was pretty infectious.

“Do you remember the market we visited in the human realm?” Cair said, his hand resting against the small of my back.

I gazed up at him.

“The place where you showed me your fangs?”

He nodded. “This is the village it was modeled after. Briargate—one of the oldest and most popular trade settlements in the Otherworld.”

Now that the connection had been pointed out, there were definitely similarities. They shared that same chocolate-box feel. The cute, colorful shops with thatched roofs and thick nests of ivy—or the Fae equivalent—snaking across their stone walls, charged by magic. That same flurry of chaos and excitement from the array of vendors pitched outside, their stalls displaying their wares. Both towns were as charming as each other, and from this distance, only had one noticeable difference—Briargate looked to be on a much larger scale.

More to explore.

I bounced on my feet. “Can we look around?”

“Of course, sweetheart.” Cair smiled, clearly having anticipated my enthusiasm. “That’s why I stopped here. Technically, it wasn’t on our list of places to visit as it’s not directly in our path, and it will delay us, but it was too precious to pass up.”

Abso-fucking-lutely .

I stuck to his side, my hand firmly in his as we strolled toward the hustle and bustle. It took effort not to bound ahead, my curiosity stealing back the abundance of restless energy I’d thought that mind-altering orgasm had wiped out of me, but I managed to keep to the leisurely pace. My anxiety in crowds outweighed the impulsiveness in this instance, and I didn’t want to get lost. It would be easy to do. As Cair loved to point out, I was shorter than a lot of monsters, even at my perfectly average human height. It was a bit of a hazard when combined with my tendency to wander off whenever something caught my attention—like the stalls upon stalls of really cool stuff now in my direct line of sight.

I squeezed my mate’s hand tighter, just to be safe.

Cair paused to glamor his wings before we started weaving through the crowd. We were mated, so he wasn’t going against any customs by displaying them—especially in the Fae realm—but I knew he’d want to protect the crystalline panes from accidental grazes. He was traditional and firm in his beliefs that certain acts between mates were sacred, and I was unapologetically giddy about it. People could look all they pleased, but touching was a privilege for him and me alone.

I’d never pegged myself as the possessive type, but when it came to Cair, there was always room for another ‘first.’

“You are happy,” Cair observed, mildly amused as he could no doubt sense my exact feelings on the matter, and all I could do was smile up at him.

“How could I not be?”

As a whole, the market was… well, a market. Loud and generally overwhelming, but our unhurried pace allowed me to get my bearings, to adapt to the environment that usually sent me into a tailspin. The brightness of life, the fizz of enchantments, and the delicious smells made the inevitable headache worthwhile. I felt a buzz under my skin as we browsed each vendor’s wares. My fingers brushed expensive fabrics, I inhaled exotic perfumes, and my tastebuds sampled foods I’d never known existed. As Cair had said, there would definitely be a delay. It would take a while to scour every square inch of the place, to pop into every shop and experience all Briargate had to offer, but we had time.

Finding my dad could wait another day or two.

For such a busy corner of the Otherworld, everyone respected personal space. We’d tackled nearly an entire section of the settlement and I’d only felt the odd stray shoulder bump. They never seemed malicious either, and weren’t ever followed by a glare or curse as they would’ve been in the human realm. Creatures were rushing around, but they didn’t use it as an excuse to be rude. Whether because of enhanced perception or ingrained politeness, they possessed a heightened sense of spatial awareness that most humans lacked. No doubt it was the reason I enjoyed myself so much. I wasn’t drowning in too much , too close , too tight , and I didn’t feel like a bother just for existing.

Cair being very obviously a prince may have been somewhat to thank for the distance, too. Not out of fear, but respect. It wasn’t hard to notice creatures swerving at the sight of his white hair, giving a slight dip of their heads as we walked by, and offering their most sincere smiles. The people loved Cair, that much was clear, and I felt a sense of pride walking beside him. He treated his people fairly, maintaining his poise and grace without shunning their blessings or looking down his nose at them as I knew some Fae would. He would make a great king—firm and composed, yet kind.

Even if, deep down, I knew it wasn’t what he wanted.

“Over here a moment, sweetheart,” Cair said to me before gently tugging my hand.

I followed him through the masses to a small shop named Tally’s, nestled between two other buildings, one pink and one yellow. An older monster—a satyr, I recognized from a book I’d read back at the palace library—sat under the shop’s awning, a table in front of him laden with a spread of intricately decorated Fae pastries and cakes. My mouth watered. They looked delicious.

“Your Highness,” the satyr greeted, both hands clutching the top of his walking stick as he shifted as if to stand. “Forgive me, I’m not as spritely as I used to be.”

Cair raised a hand. “No need to get up, Ivar,” he said, and the guy, Ivar, bowed his head before relaxing in his chair again. He set his stick off to the side.

“One hundred years, and you still remember this old fool’s name.”

Cair laughed, the sound rich and warm. “You may be old, Ivar, but you are no fool.” They shared a look I couldn’t quite decipher, a secret that I wanted to discover, but I didn’t want to interrupt. Cair must have sensed my intrigue as he pressed his hand to my back, ushering me forward a step. “This is Ivar, sweetheart, the best baker in the entire Otherworld,” he said in introduction, and Ivar rolled his eyes at the compliment, but dipped his head respectfully toward me. “Ivar, this is Luca, my mate.”

“Your Highness,” he said, the words falling from his tongue as if he were greeting an old friend. “Anything you require, you need only ask. I am but your humble servant.”

“Oh… thank you.” I fiddled with the strap of my pack, shifting nervously from foot to foot. The weight of such a promise was unusual to me, especially from a stranger. “And just Luca is fine.”

Ivar smiled politely, though Cair bent forward to whisper a gentle correction in my ear. “As the mate of a prince, it is proper for the people to address you by your title in public, little one.”

“Oh, right! Yes, of course.” My skin grew hot, embarrassment settling like a lead brick in my stomach. I should have known that. “Sorry.”

“You will get the hang of it, don’t you worry,” Ivar reassured me, tone devoid of judgment, and before I could make a joke at my expense, he leaned forward to scoop up a cute little pastry with his cake slice. He placed it on what looked like a banana leaf. “Now, would you be a dear and try these Amber Sunrise tarts, your highness? They are a new addition to the shop, and I am led to believe you have a sweet tooth?”

“Yes, I do.” I frowned. “How did you?—”

He winked, and I was definitely missing something. “Intuition.”

I shelved it for now, and took the cake. It had a round biscuit-like base, and a dome on top, covered in an orange mirror-glaze. There were also little details in white and peach, making the icing look like a painting of the sky at dawn.

Ivar made an encouraging sound, and aware that I was in public and supposed to at least act demure, I took a bite. It was like heaven. My teeth sank easily through a layer of shortcrust pastry, a thin sheen of ganache, a cloud of fluffy cream, and…

“Apricot,” I slurred around my mouthful, manners out the window. I managed to swallow before adding, “That’s my favorite!”

“I had some imported from the human realm,” Ivar said. “We have a similar fruit here, same shape and texture, but the taste was never quite right for the tarts.”

“It’s delicious.” I took another bite and sighed happily.

“I am glad you approve,” he chirped, before expressing his apologies and turning his attention to the minotaur who’d wandered over, requesting a box of Autumn Delights.

I watched as he served the guy, taking extreme care with each fruit-laden cake as he placed them into a white craft-paper box before bagging them up. Rubies were exchanged instead of gold coins—the currency for some monsters, but not others—and the minotaur expressed his gratitude. He bowed to Cair and me as he left.

Ivar sagged back into his seat once more, but just as he opened his mouth to speak, several more customers began to gather around, though they seemed content just to browse. “Creators, this is as busy as I’ve been all day. I tell ya, everyone gets a glimpse of the white hair and suddenly this stall is the best thing since the Veil. Why don’t you stand there for a wee bit longer, Your Highnesses, so I can sell out and go back to bed, huh?” he joked, laughing tiredly.

Cair scoffed, the sound extremely fond. “It’s good to see you, Ivar. And though I’d love to stick around, we have somewhere to be. Don’t let us distract you any further.”

Ivar waved dismissively. “Pfft, nonsense. You know better than anyone that I can multitask, and I do a damn fine job of it, too.”

“That you do.”

Okay, there was a story here, and I was desperate to know it. Were they… ex-lovers or something? Nah, Cair wouldn’t drop that on me without warning, and from what he’d told me of his past, he’d only ever had flings with nagas, orcs, and other Fae, so that theory was impossible. It was clear they had a bond of some kind, and as Ivar was visibly much older than Cair, it seemed plausible that he’d been a mentor or a teacher, maybe even an adviser.

“Before you go, take this…” Ivar dipped under his table with a pained grunt, coming back up with a package in his hands—a sizable item swathed in linen cloth. “It’s not much, or anything extravagant, but consider it a belated mating gift.”

Seeing that my hands were occupied, Cair took the item and peeled back the covering for me to see. It was a dagger, the blade safely tucked inside its scabbard, while the marble hilt, painted with intricate swirling patterns, stood out against the white cloth. “Thank you,” I said, my eyes wide in awe. “You’re too kind.”

“Keep it close,” he suggested. “You never know when it’ll come in handy.”

I nodded in agreement, as Cair wrapped it back up before stepping behind me to store it away in my pack. I would have reached out to shake Ivar’s hand then, to show him my gratitude in the only way I knew how, but with a half-eaten pastry in one palm and the crumbed remnants of said pastry on the other, I thought better of it.

I smiled instead. “It was nice to meet you, Ivar.”

“Until next time, Your Royal Highnesses.” He placed a hand to his chest and bowed once more in a gesture of respect. Cair mirrored him with a dip of his head before guiding us away.

We rejoined the flurry, slotting effortlessly in between two couples strolling leisurely beside the stalls. I tried to wait until we were a respectable distance away from Ivar’s shop to let my mouth run away with me, I really did, but the question burst out of me before we even made it fully across the street.

“Soooo, how do you two know each other?”

Cair smirked as if he’d expected it—he knew me too well—before leaning close to murmur so quietly that only I could hear. “Ivar is the oldest and most loyal spy on my payroll.”

“What?” I stopped in my tracks, peering back at the frail old satyr, selling pretty pastries and smiling as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “I never would have guessed.”

“I’m afraid that is the point, pet,” he said, amused, as he ushered me to keep walking. “I have known him since I was a youngling. He worked in the palace kitchens, but retired from the position not long before I left for the human realm. My most recent reports mentioned that he’d set up a cake shop here in memory of his wife. I thought it polite to stop by and formally introduce you.”

“How did he become part of your…” I glanced around, realizing there were too many inhuman ears. “ Team ?”

Cair guided me to the edge of the market, to a small gap between two shops, away from the bulk of the crowd. I nibbled my pastry as he spoke. “I typically hire those who are the least likely to be suspected and have proved themselves loyal to me, in one capacity or another. Ivar is older, yes, but he was already familiar with the complexities of our family, and he’d always been kind to Teighan. When the other cooks saw fit to deprive my brother of food, Ivar would make sure he was fed first and double. He wasn’t afraid of anything, least of all being punished for favoring the king’s bastard.”

My blood boiled at the mention of Tee’s mistreatment. No one deserved what he’d gone through, but it was at least a little relieving to hear he’d had someone besides Cair willing to fight for him.

“He sounds like a decent guy,” I said, licking another stripe through the cream and jam. “I knew you had… people working for you, but I didn’t quite realize they’d be outside the capital too.”

“A prince needs eyes, ears, and swords in every corner of the land, especially when he’s absent from his place at court for one hundred years. My field agents are an invaluable resource. They worked alongside my soldiers and councillors, keeping the peace while I was gone. They live as normal civilians, but would report any whispers of unrest or revolt so I could devise the best course of action and suppress it quickly.”

My eyes widened. “You organized all of them while you were in the human realm?”

“Of course,” he said, matter-of-factly. “Being in the human realm did not release me from my duties. Not entirely. Rathe handled anything I could not oversee personally, but I corresponded with my forces often, kept everything in motion. I wanted my absence to be purely superficial, no real changes except for the fact that I was not here physically. I’d never abandon my people, or those who pledged their loyalty to me, but I had to leave. For my sanity, if nothing else.”

A weary look passed over his face, his gaze growing distant, and through our bond, I felt the creeping tingle of sadness and longing.

“You’re not really happy here, are you?” I said.

He seemed to blink out of a deep thought, the smile that slipped into place not quite reaching his eyes. His hand rose to cup my cheek. “I am happy wherever you are, sweetheart.”

“I know, but I mean…” I leaned into his touch, covering his hand with the one not holding a half-eaten confectionery. “You’d be happier in the human realm, wouldn’t you? Without the responsibility of the crown looming over you?”

It was obvious from his pause and clenching jaw that he wanted to deny it—to spare my feelings and lessen my worry, most likely. That was just the type of guy he was. After a moment of hesitating and studying my resolute expression, he sighed, letting his hand slip from my cheek as he leaned back against the shop wall.

“It is… more complex than that, but yes.” The answer I’d been expecting. “The club is a home I made for myself, and for Tee. It was somewhere I could be selfish. I could travel whenever and wherever I wanted, see new sights, learn new things, watch the humans advance throughout the decades, and pretend to live as if I were never a prince. I wasn’t free by any means—I still had responsibilities—but not being in the Otherworld, directly answering to my father, was surreal. They were the best years of my life, especially those last few months when a little human came sauntering into my den asking for a job.”

I huffed a laugh and grumbled, “I don’t saunter. ”

Cair didn’t seem convinced, but said nothing.

The beat of silence stretched for a moment, my mind whirring as I stared down at the amber jam oozing from the tart. I even gently squeezed the pastry to watch more burst out—a mindless distraction.

“I’m not trying to make this about me,” I said. “But I never imagined an existence among royalty. I wouldn’t change meeting you for the world, and I’ll stand by you forever, in any capacity, but this life does make me anxious sometimes.” I let out a self-deprecating laugh. “Okay, a lot of the time. And the thought of being on the throne beside you—even if it is thousands of years from now and I have time to prepare—fills me with dread.” I lifted my gaze to Cair, smiling sympathetically. “And I’ve only had to worry about it for a year. I can’t begin to imagine how you’ve felt your entire life. I don’t blame you for wanting some semblance of peace from it.”

“You know I would never make you do anything you were uncomfortable with.”

“I know,” I assured him, already confident that he had absolutely zero expectations. “That wasn’t the point I was trying to make. I mated with you, content with whatever path my future may take, and I don’t regret a thing. I love it here, in this realm, surrounded by nature and magic, but I’m just saying— badly —that if you don’t feel the same, I understand, and I would do anything to help you get out of it.”

His grateful smile warmed my entire soul. “I appreciate the sentiment, pet. Though there is only one way out, which involves losing, and I am not of that prospect.”

He meant war. If the king and his forces managed to beat him, Cair would be imprisoned for treason. Or worse, depending on his father’s mood that day, which in all honesty never really changed, so there was a high probability that Cair would be tortured every day and made an example of.

The ward protecting the royal line would deprive his father of the satisfaction of killing him outright, but even if he decided to utilize the loophole and hire an outsider to carry out the execution, I doubted the king would be so merciful. He wasn’t known for it, and for those reasons alone, I wholeheartedly understood Cair’s reservations. War was not on my agenda either, regardless of whether the outcome leaned into my mate’s favor. That was a last resort, but knowing Cair wasn’t fully content with his life here made me determined to find another way.

Whatever it took.

“Couldn’t you stand down? Peacefully. I know your father is unreasonable on a good day, but if you made a bargain with him, promised never to change your mind and rise up against him as long as he left us alone, would he not even consider it? It would be in his best interest.”

“Even if, by some divine miracle, that happened, it would force one of my siblings to take my place.” His dark eyes were filled with regret. “I couldn’t, in good conscience, force this life on anyone who was unprepared.”

“Preparation could be worked around.”

“I suppose.” The space between his brows creased minutely before smoothing out again. He shrugged as if casting his warring thoughts away. “But it matters not. This is the hand fate has dealt me. I must see it through.”

“But—”

“I am fine, my heart. Truly.” He cut in before my mouth ran away with me and I demanded to go back to the palace to research ‘how to turn a prince into a commoner’ or something equally ridiculous. He tucked a stray curl of hair behind my ear, his touch feather-light. “With you by my side, I could never be discontented.”

Though I wanted to figure out the answer to every question right here, right now, I would respect his attempts to end the conversation. I’d helped him out of his binds once before, and I’d happily fight to do it again. But we were in public, so I filed it away for later and shoved the last of the apricot cake into my mouth, chewing with an appreciative hum.

The crumbs sticking to my fingers fell away easily with a brush against my pants, but no matter how many times I swallowed, the dryness in my throat wouldn’t budge. I glanced around for a fountain or a bar, even a well would’ve been welcome at that point— shit, have I had any water today? —but the brush of Cair’s fingers against my cheek interrupted the search. Ever attuned to my needs, he hooked a hand over my hip and steered me in the direction of a café decorated with beautiful arches of multicolored flowers and hanging rainbow garlands.

“Let’s get you a drink,” he said. “And something more substantial to eat than sweets.” I pouted, but before I could utter a word in my defense, he tacked on, “My dear, you may indulge to your heart’s content, but I fear you’ll turn into a pretty pastry if you don’t break up your streak with something nutritious.”

He had a point. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten a vegetable. “Fine.”

The place was busy, but a table miraculously became available as soon as we made it to the host stand. The pink-haired gnome who guided us through the café to our seats was polite and attentive, and within ten minutes our drinks were on the table, we had Fae bread and butter to snack on, and we were ordering our food.

Or attempting to.

“I’m stuck between thePhoenix Flame Stew and the Nature’s Bounty Burger,” I said, mentally listing the pros and cons of each. Stew had more vegetables, but the burger had fries. It was a tricky decision.

“Get both,” Cair offered, patient as a saint.

“I can’t get both.” I tutted, rolling my eyes, and after another second of chewing my bottom lip and rereading the ingredients, the waiter spoke.

“I can give Your Highnesses a few more?—”

“No, no.” I closed my menu with a slap and handed it over with a smile. “I’ll have the stew. Thank you very much.”

“Excellent choice.” The gnome bowed his head and scribbled my order on his notepad before facing Cair. “And for you, Your Highness?”

Cair handed over his already folded menu. Had he even opened it? “The burger sounds good. Thank you.”

“Of course.” Another bow. “Those will be out shortly. If there’s anything you need in the meantime, do let us know.”

With that, and one last dip of his head, he scurried away, leaving us alone. My brows furrowed suspiciously. “If I’d ordered the burger, would you have ordered stew?”

“Yes.”

I huffed a laugh. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

Cair smirked before taking a slow sip of his drink. “So you keep saying, pet.”

With a fond shake of my head, I leaned back in my seat, stretching out the slight ache in my shoulders from my backpack as I glanced around the café, taking in the colorful art hanging on the walls. “Alex would love this little café,” I mused as my eyes landed on a purple piece that looked oddly familiar. “There’s art, for one thing, and he’s a total foodie. That menu would be right up his alley.”

“Sadly, he would not be able to consume the food here without an enchantment.” Cair sounded apologetic. “Food in the Otherworld is only for the supernatural. You are only safe to eat and drink your fill because you are half Fae.”

Oh, I had read something about that, actually. Back when I was still a sheltered boy trying to learn all I could about creatures while my mother watched obsessively over my shoulder. I’d dismissed it not long after my first stint across the barrier, along with most of the information I had taken in back then. I’d come to the conclusion, after hearing real stories from actual sources, that most of it was varying degrees of untrue.

Or was it?

“But Tee gave Alex the radharc plant on their bonding night, right?” I said. “The one that let him see the city.”

“Kor had enchanted it, made it safe for him to eat.”

“Ah, of course.” I nodded in understanding. “So… what happens if a human does eat something from the Otherworld?” I had my guesses, assumptions I’d picked up from the pages of old folk tales, but if I’d learned anything from my twenty-six years among humans, it was that they loved to dramatize a story.

“That depends. If it is given to them by a creature, they will become enslaved to them for a short time. A thrall to do their bidding, though it would take a truly rotten soul to do such a thing.” Cair screwed up his nose as if the very idea was distasteful. “But if they ate it of their own accord, it could give the effects of an aphrodisiac, only heightened, though they would become immune to it over time. It is dangerous, either way, as once a human tastes the food here, nothing else will ever satisfy their appetites. If they became deprived of the source, they would eventually wither away.”

That wasn’t far off what I had expected, but it still stunned me to hear. It was a good job I hadn’t sent anything back already. “Okay, no food for Alex. Got it.”

“Unless you enchant it.”

I paused with the tip of the paper straw for my iced tea between my lips and cringed, showing my teeth. “Better to be safe and not bother.”

Cair tipped his own glass at me in a salute. “Wise decision.”

“So, can I ask you something?” I took one more gulp of my tea before setting it down. “Since we’re on the topic.” Not that a subject change would be out of the ordinary for me. Cair was used to it, but for once, I was actually keeping on track.

“Always.”

“As you know, I’ve been reading a lot since you built me the nook back at the palace…” He nodded, though it wasn’t entirely necessary. “And I’ve been researching all types of creatures and their lore to get a better understanding of your— our —people, but for some reason, I haven’t read much on Fae. Typically, I’d ask you or Tee if I have a specific question, or I’d observe and learn for myself, and I thought that was enough, but what you just said has me questioning how much I actually know.

“Everything I used to believe about your kind was stuff I got from books I’d sneak away to read as a kid, or the folklore forums I’d skim on the internet. But I dismissed it all after meeting you because the majority of it felt fabricated. The bargains, your appearance, and being nature lovers are the only traits I’ve noted that are close to accurate. You can lie, for one.” I counted each point off on my fingers. “I told you my name and I didn’t magically become your servant.” Another finger. “You’re not exactly what I’d call ‘mischievous.’” Another. “And as far as I’m aware, you don’t swap human children for changelings. So my question is, how much of the information we have is actually a lie? I mean, if the food thing is true, what else is?”

“Most of the tales I’ve heard humans tell of us are used to frighten their young, to warn them away from us, much like their beliefs of the Veil.”

Ah, yes, how they thought crossing over would mean certain death—something I hadn’t doubted myself until I met Cair and learned the truth.

“Our traits are often taken out of context,” he continued. “Or exaggerated for entertainment or brainwashing purposes. We can lie, yes, but we prefer to avoid it or ‘spin the truth’ as it were, as breaking our word is seen as dishonorable, and the offense weighs heavily on our souls. As for being tricksters, that is not entirely untrue. The image that humans present is a little more demeaning—a way to paint us as strange and immoral—but we are an intelligent race, witty and charismatic. Our ability to talk our way out of any situation is often seen as ‘wicked’ or impish behavior.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me.” I rolled my eyes. “Humans are known for getting defensive and throwing tantrums when someone outsmarts them. It’s as if they can’t possibly imagine being in the wrong, so you and your intelligence can’t be anything other than the devil incarnate.”

“Yes.” Cair chuckled lightly at my sarcastic tone. “That said, my father has been around for thousands of years, and though the Veil between our worlds only came about within the last five hundred, he could still be the prototype for how humans see us. He enjoys tricking his people, he finds sport in it—making impossible bargains, using his power and cleverness to cause chaos. We’re not all the same. In fact, he is the rare breed, but being such an important figure, it is no wonder that your kind have such a low opinion of us.”

I huffed a bitter laugh. “Humans have low opinions of fellow humans , so I doubt there was anything in particular you guys did to warrant that treatment, even if your dad is a dick. Being ‘different’ is usually all it takes.”

It wasn’t hard to remember how often I was teased as a kid for my looks, or shunned for being too ‘square,’ or too quiet. As I grew up, it hardly got better. I was rejected, ignored, and taken advantage of, and now that I knew about my parentage, it would be easy to take that to mean they’d sensed I was part Fae before I had. But based on how humans interacted with one another, it wouldn’t have mattered either way.

Thankfully, the waiter chose that moment to arrive with our food, halting the conversation. He dipped his head before setting a bowl filled with chunks of tender meat and vegetables in a thick brown gravy in front of me. I inhaled deeply. It smelled delicious, and though I had every intention of continuing with my questioning, all thoughts left my head as I abandoned propriety to eagerly fill my spoon and take a bite.

The moan I let out was possibly a little indecent for a Tuesday afternoon.

“ Omygod , this is incredible. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how amazing the food is here. It’s next level!”

“I’m glad you think so,” Cair said, an amused grin on his face as he elegantly cut into his burger, separating a small portion and transferring it onto his side plate. A few fries joined it before he placed the food in front of me without a word.

My heart swelled.

“You’re such a sap,” I said, grinning fondly like the fool in love that I was.

He didn’t deny it.

* * *