Chapter 6
T he canal banks are aglow with magic under a crisp night sky.
Blooms of light drift through the air, swirling, shimmering, dancing like the spirits in love that they are. Soft glows wrap around couples strolling hand in hand, casting hues of gold and violet and rose onto their faces. The reflections of those soulful lights glitter in the canals, transforming the city into a dream of love.
It’s the Lovelight Festival.
Love drips from every floating lantern, and every whispered wish into a lover’s ear.
All this beauty, and I can’t enjoy it. Not while I’m being chased, anyway.
Sons of high-ranking officials. The same insufferable ones from the cat incident.
I was just sniffing sweet buns near the spice vendor when— Yelling. Pointing. Flinging of spells. I ducked, yelped, and bolted.
I’m still doing it. I rush along the path six feet above the canal water, heart pounding, dodging errant spells as they spark against the cobblestones behind me. Not the lights I want to see today!
“Stop him!” someone shouts.
“You’ll never find true love acting like this!” I shout back over my shoulder.
The wrong thing to say.
A spell slices past my ear and I scent the drop of blood that spills with it.
I keep running, cloak flying behind me. The path curves, narrow and slick; a bloom of light spins into my face; I stagger—
And a rough gust of wind—or magic, or bad luck— shoves me sideways.
My feet miss the edge.
I tip. Fall. Right into the shadows beneath the canal bank.
The air whooshes from my lungs as I land half-sprawled, half-hugged, blinking wildly as I register a boat, a small one tucked beneath a stone overhang.
And Calix.
Of course it’s him. Sitting silently in a boat. Like an inconveniently breath-catching fate.
Holding me on his lap.
My eyes widen and he plants a finger over my lips. Fast footsteps clank and clatter on the path above. “Where’d he go?”
“Must have reached the other side. Come, we’ll get him yet.”
By the time the echoing claps of their boots disappear, the rowboat has drifted back out from under the bridge, farther away from my noisy pursuers.
The night skies stretch overhead, the water around us is a deep inky black, the trees on the banks are a rustle of moving shadow. I’m still frozen on Calix’s lap and his finger is still at my lips.
And then boom— all around, lovelights burst out of lovers, glittering and twirling.
The lights dance and speckle the surroundings, casting light and shadow over Calix’s face, mine. We stare at one another.
He drops his fingers gently off me, and I... my breath is tight. There’s something soft in Calix’s gaze, something that seems real amongst the shimmer of his magic mask.
I sink into his hold, then tremble. I shouldn’t...
It’s relief. To have gotten away.
Calix’s breath hitches, I feel the tickle stop combing through my hair.
I frown at his mask that keeps holding me hostage.
Calix throws me off his lap and I land on the bank with a thunk and a thundering heart.
“I’m not your enemy.”
“You’re not my friend, either.”
Calix sinks a fraction. “What were you up to tonight, before you ran into those nobles? Should I drop you off to someone?”
I pat my belt, feeling for a pouch that is no longer there. Must have fallen in the chase. I sigh and look at Calix imploringly. “Are you hungry? How about we go for some pecan puffs?”
“Pecan puffs?”
“Ground pecans in a creamy custard set into the lightest, flakiest pastries, and pretty taffy art to top it.” My stomach rumbles. I pat it. “Shall we share a plate?”
Calix picks up his oars and shakes his head at me. “You’ve lost your money, haven’t you?”
“Please? They’re a hassle to make so they only sell them at the lovelight festival. I’ll have to wait an entire year...”
“I don’t know. Buying someone dessert sounds like something a... friend would do.”
“What... Are you upset ?” There’s something about his tone, his posture... “Well, I’m upset too,” I say. “You took off without a word!”
He looks over sharply, expression pensive.
I frown. Is this it? Another sudden departure between us?
But Calix steers to a set of steps and joins me on the bank. At my confused look, he taps my rumbling belly with a cane he’d pulled from the boat. “Pecan puffs.”
He snaps through the streets, leading the way while I frown after him. He disappears from the mountain without a word, he’s upset we’re not friends, and now he comes along to feed me pastry puffs?
Also—I come to an abrupt halt outside the inn Maskios is heading into, and then hurry inside after him. “Why are you still hurt?” I demand the moment we are seated at a small table.
He stiffens. “Father was furious at my absence that night. I was... punished. I’m to heal without magic.”
Harsh. “He’s tough on you.”
“He’s tough on everyone.”
At my inquiring brow, he clears his throat. “My brother disobeyed him too. We’re both hobbling on canes today.”
I lean in with a smirk. “Then let’s order sikelion lamb and emberfruit pheasant, too. And some borage tea. With that, I can take away your pain.”
“You just want more free food.”
“We both win.”
He orders everything I ask for and the dishes fill every spot of space on the table.
And I moan into all of it, especially the delightful bite of pecan puff.
But, then I catch myself. I smartly put down the pastry and look directly over the table. “Enough.”
He shifts, chest puffed on a held breath.
“Why do you keep frowning? Why are you sharing this meal with me? Why were you so upset before?”
Calix looks away. “I was upset before I met you tonight.” His jaw quivers. “My marriage has been arranged.”
I stare and shift awkwardly on my seat, suddenly finding the last morsel of puff immensely interesting. “Arranged?”
“But I can’t. I really can’t.”
“Is she not nice enough? Pretty enough?”
“She’s plenty nice and plenty pretty. That’s not it, Caelus.”
Calix searches my face, imploring. “Being with someone should be intimate, passionate. Should be felt deep inside.” He shakes his head. “I can’t be that with her . Do you understand? I can’t. ”
I breathe in sharply, something inside sinking. My gaze takes a slow stroll down Calix to where he disappears under the table. I gulp and slowly look up at him again.
I eye the shared food between us... Was this supposed to be payment for... help? I hesitate, then pick up the last morsel of pastry puff and pop it into my mouth, swallowing over a tight lump. “I understand.”
Calix lets out a shaky breath, briefly closing his eyes, and I find myself leaning over the table with a lingering downward glance as I whisper, “I can get that happy for you.”
There’s a pause. A momentary thickening of the air between us. And then Calix hurtles to his feet. He’s staring hard at me and then he’s dropping money on the table—
But before I can even ask what’s wrong, he turns and walks out.
Again.
Gone.
I stare after him, floored.
“Fickle!” I yell.
The innkeeper glances over, raising a brow.
I take another bite of pecan puff.
“And I want the rest boxed up,” I add.
Back at home, I sneak past a pair of aklos scrubbing the floor and an akla ironing Father’s robes like she’s waging war on every wrinkle. I tiptoe down the corridor, clutching my pastry box like a treasure.
My room welcomes me with its familiar herbal scent. I don’t bother lighting the lanterns. I just flop onto my bed, puff box cradled in my lap.
I tear it open.
He’s just one silly young man.
That’s all.
One masked, frustrating, annoyingly mysterious young man who doesn’t know how to say goodbye properly. Or how to stay. Or how to...
I sigh.
He’ll come and he’ll go. Probably he’s already gone. Vanished from my life like the last bite of this puff.
So forget him.
He doesn’t get to take up space in my mind like this. Lingering like the scent of magic after a spell.
Lingering thoughts should be reserved for people who matter.
Like my family.
Like Akilah, who’s practically my sister, who’s stuck by me through more than anyone else.
Like Veronica, my stubborn, sharp friend who taught me how to wield a drakopala stick.
And even like the prince I once slept beside in the hollow of a violet oak, the one who made my heart stutter for the first time in my life.
Those are people worth remembering.
Not some too-handsome, magic-masked, cryptic-lipped, just-par-linea-declaring drakopagon-playing —
I bite the puff too hard. Cream oozes down my chin.
I wipe it off with the back of my sleeve, scowling at the ceiling, nodding in fierce self-agreement.
“No more thoughts.”
I finish the last puff with a growl and fall back into my pillows.