Page 9

“I’d like t-to see a street b-brawl!” Tipp said, jumping up beside her.

Naari slung her arm around his neck. “Another time, kiddo.”

His face fell, but then he brightened again and said, “Ori’s g-going to be so jealous. I can’t wait to get b-back and tell him what it was like w-watching from out here.”

“WhereisOriel?” Kiva asked. The vivacious young prince had been joined at the hip with Tipp since their meeting two days earlier. Where one went, the other followed, at least until tonight.

“The royal family usually watches the opening of each seasonal festival from inside the palace,” Naari said. She looked at Jaren and emphasized,“Together.”

Kiva’s eyes moved to him as well. “You really did sneak away, didn’t you?” After six weeks spent living and traveling with the haughty Princess Mirryn and the flirtatious Prince Caldon, Kiva couldn’t blame him.

“It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last,” Jaren said with an unrepentant grin. “How do you think I found this place to begin with? I’ve been coming here for years.”

Naari grumbled inaudibly before saying, “Pack up. We’re leaving.”

Since the light show was over, no one fought the guard’s terse order. Tipp helped refill the hamper with the leftover food, shoving handfuls of crackers and cheese into his mouth as if afraid he’d never see another meal. Kiva understood that feeling of desperation, wondering how long it would take for it to fade — in both of them.

A gust of wind hit the top of the roof, causing her to shiver and rub her arms. Noting her reaction, Jaren removed his jacket and laid it over her shoulders. Warmth instantly seeped into her as she slid her arms into the sleeves, the comforting scent of fresh earth, sea salt, morning dew, and wood smoke tickling her nose. Earth, wind, water, and fire — a smell perfectly unique to Jaren.

“Thank you,” she whispered, staunchly ignoring how his shirt caught tantalizingly on his muscles.

“Anything for you,” Jaren said, winking as he bent to collect the last of their things. The move only threw his physique into sharper relief under the moonlight, his body so flawless that —

“Ahem.” Naari cleared her throat, her face stern but her amber eyes laughing.

Willing the heat from her cheeks, Kiva folded the picnic blanket into squares and passed it to Jaren, who had already claimed the heavy hamper from the too-eager Tipp.

“Ready,” Jaren told Naari. She didn’t bat an eyelash at the crown prince bearing their goods like a packhorse, having experienced years of him acting in a manner well beneath his station. The Z scar on his hand was proof of that — proof of his service to his people, the lengths he would go to in order to keep them safe.

Guilt bubbled in Kiva’s stomach, but she ignored it and followed Naari across the roof, continuing on past the decrepit doorway and heading instead to a stairway that led right down to the street. Kiva shot a look at Jaren, wondering why he hadn’t brought her up using the much more stable entry, but he studiously avoided eye contact.

You really need to learn to trust me,he’d told her earlier.

Kiva nearly snorted, realizing his intention had been to remind her that she was safe with him — always.

Not that she didn’t already know that.

“Let’s get a move on,” Naari urged, interrupting Kiva’s treacherous thoughts and hurrying them down into the alleyway. There was a dangerous feel to the air now, almost as if they were being watched, but Kiva’s concerns eased slightly as they approached the main thoroughfare, the lights and sounds of the festival growing with every step nearer to the river.

Naari cursed when they finally exited the side street to find swarms of people standing shoulder to shoulder, dancing, laughing, and singing along to the music. So much revelry — and all of it blocking the road, right up to the palace gates.

“I don’t like this,” the guard said, her lips pursed.

Kiva barely heard her over the raucous sounds of the street party.

“They’ll be at it until dawn,” Jaren pointed out, which didn’t improve Naari’s mood. “Unless you’re happy for us to stay out here all night —”

He quickly shut his mouth at the look she sent him.

“I’ll forge us a path. You three staydirectlybehind me,” Naari ordered, one hand tensing around the hilt of her blade, as if she intended to cut through anyone who got in their way. “No stopping, no looking around. Straight to the gates.”

She waited until she had Tipp’s attention, since he was staring at the chaos with wide, longing eyes. When he finally realized what she wanted, he uttered his reluctant agreement.

Stepping into the masses, Naari was swallowed in an instant, but Kiva gave Tipp a hearty push to keep him close behind the guard. Jaren nudged Kiva forward so that he could take up the rear — something Naari wouldn’t like, but Jaren had been right earlier: no one seemed to care that the crown prince was in their midst. To the festivalgoers, they were just four citizens trying to carve a path.

When they were halfway to the palace, the music shifted and an emphatic cry rose up around them, the stamping of feet followed by the jumping of sweaty bodies shaking the ground. Kiva couldn’t hear anything over the delighted shrieks, and could barely make out the figure of Naari being engulfed by the swelling crowd. Somewhere along the line, Jaren had abandoned the hamper and blanket, instead keeping both hands free to hold on to Kiva and clear a path for her, much like she was trying to do for Tipp.

Another almighty cry sounded, and the jumping increased, bodies ramming into them from all angles. Claustrophobia clawed at Kiva as a wayward carouser shoved her hard to the side, ripping her fingers from Tipp. She stumbled violently, only managing to stay upright because of Jaren’s firm grip on her. Even so, the two of them slammed into a group of people, all of whom were too lost in the revelry to care.