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“If you need a place to stay, you can crash here for a couple of days,” Ronin said, as if he could overhear her torrential thoughts on the matter.

His offer was considerate, but would risk him and his family’s safety. The deities sent after her wouldn’t hesitate to harm mortals in their path.

Flecks of the white paint lodged underneath Naia’s fingernail as she waved her hand in the air, gesturing to the space around her. “What kind of man allows a stranger to intrude in his home?”

Ronin leaned forward on his elbows and joined his hands. “Call it a gut feeling, but you strike me as harmless.”

“May I remind you how I tried to slit your throat?” Naia pointed to the crusty scab on Ronin’s neck, inches below his Adam’s apple.

He gave a breathy laugh. “I don’t think I’ll be forgetting anytime soon.”

“You strike me as careless.”

“Will you bring me or my family any harm?” he asked in a more sincere tone.

With guilt blooming in her chest, she huffed, “No.” Technically, it was not a lie. She would not harm them.

He relaxed back into his chair and rubbed his shoulder. “Then I have nothing to worry about.”

Tension gathered behind her eyeballs, and she picked the pieces of paint out from underneath her fingernail to keep from rubbing them. Did he have to make taking advantage of him so easy?

Of course, she would stay in his home when she had nowhere else to go. Though a part of her wished he would throw her out instead of offering. Then she could curse him while sleeping out on the street.

Ronin stood up. “Well, glad to have you staying with us.”

Naia narrowed her eyes. “Who is us?”

He paused in the middle of the room and glanced back at her. “My sister and niece live here.”

“And you do not?”

“No, I live in Hollow City.”

Naia pursed her lips to keep from laughing at the irony.

The city was a notorious spot for mages to live. From what she’d heard through her siblings who ventured to and from the Mortal Land, the population of mages made deities apprehensive. So much so, they avoided the place all together.

It was foolish to believe Ronin was a man who happened to find her in her time of need, who offered her a place to stay, and so happened to reside in the city she needed to go to. Fate had yet to grace her with such kindness. He had to have some sort of ulterior motive.

Are you a mage? She wanted to ask him. Mages regularly tangled with deity business, and Naia wouldn’t put it past Mira to go so far.

The question sat on her tongue like an ice cube, but she refrained from asking, afraid he would counter with the one she had a feeling sat on his own tongue. Are you a goddess? What other explanation was there for the traces of blood on her skin without injuries, or her divinity on full display?

“When are you set to go back?” she asked.

A stiffness took over the easy-going disposition he carried in his shoulders. “A few days. Why do you ask?”

“I need to go to the city.” She nibbled on her bottom lip, discomfort aching everywhere in her body. A loathing side-effect that came with relying on others. “May I travel with you?”

Ronin regarded her for a long second, his eyes flicking around her face, doing the cataloging thing. It only flared her uneasiness.

“Sure thing,” he said. “I’ll probably catch the ferry early in about two days. You down with that?”

She nodded, staring down at the tip of the bedpost where she picked at the chipping white paint on the metal.

“For now, we’re going to the festival. You’re more than welcome to join us.”

She lifted her head, giving a small shrug. “I’ll consider it.”