Page 52 of City of Snakes (Legends of Henosis #2)

Chapter 51

Sybilla

I ’d thought Sahlmsara was hot, but the land between the Sahlmsaran cities was unbearable. A balmy heat encased me like the sun had joined forces with the winds to carry oppressive humidity from the volcanic shores. We’d descended into a flat valley when Sahlmkar came into view.

The city was made up of primarily flat-roofed buildings and open-air markets. Businesses and row housing were stacked on top of one another. The streets were dust-coated and narrow. All the structures were coated in brown or beige stucco and there was little greenery.

Despite the lifeless hues, the city bustled with activity. The people here had harder edges and gave us skeptical glances as we passed through. Most seemed keen on finishing their day’s work; no one paid their King any mind or honors.

In the mud-caked clothes from my unfortunate encounter with the river, I longed to be off my horse and clean. My thighs chafed against the leather saddle. Luckily, the horse was unharmed from his stumble—luckily, I was too.

“Are we safe here?” I whispered to Krait.

“Mostly,” he answered. Comforting.

“We are heading to my flat. The building is heavily guarded. You’ll be safe there.”

The way Krait had clung to me on that riverbank had shaken some of my resolve to be cold toward him.

Stop giving him reasons to infuriate you. My friend’s words were easier said than done.

“Please tell me there’s somewhere to bathe there,” I said.

“Afraid not.”

I chanced an annoyed glance at him, and he stared back with a glint in his iron gaze.

He added, “But I’ve made other arrangements.” His eyes crinkled with surprising softness.

I scoffed, “Well, good—I smell like a swamp. And stop looking at me that way.”

He grunted, “What way?”

“Like you like me.”

“I do like you,” he answered. “Which is a lucky thing. Liking your future wife is something to strive for, is it not?”

My cheeks heated. I only hoped the coat of mud would protect me from him noticing. “Enjoying bedding me is not the same thing as liking me.”

“That’s an added benefit,” he retorted.

I returned my attention to the narrow road as the men before us started pulling their horses aside toward a stable.

The buildings around us were all three-to-four-story flats, with stucco-rimmed balconies. Clothing hung from lines overhead.

“We’ll drop the horses here. Keep your weapons with you,” he instructed as he dismounted, and I followed. A groom came to retrieve our mounts, and Krait led me down the brown cobblestone road. A soldier on horseback, accompanied by a few guards on foot, followed with our packs.

The sun was, thankfully, setting, and an orange and red glow illuminated the town. The sunset added vibrance to the otherwise monochromatic surroundings.

Krait stopped at a cart and bought a loaf of bread and a few wax-sealed cheeses. A few yards later, I waited while he stopped at another cart to pick up a bottle of wine.

No one here seemed to treat him any differently than a common patron. Though the intense gaze of some made the hair on my arms stand. I let my mind slip into the cracks of a man’s mind as we passed.

“If our King is here, maybe the rumor is true…Maybe our true Origin has returned...”

My throat constricted. They didn’t just worship Caym here; they truly thought him the better choice to lead them. Krait’s words on our journey rang true. I shivered despite the heat.

We’d been traveling all day, and I was still too hot to feel hungry, but the wine sounded nice. Krait made one last stop for fresh pitted fruit—apples and pears that were bruised but not rotted.

The guards kept their distance, but still flanked us. We dodged carriages through the narrow streets until Krait stopped.

“Here, this is the flat.” He motioned to a building much like all the others—beige stucco, three stories, and flat-roofed.

When we approached the door, Krait asked, “Hold these?”

I smirked and said, “Fine, but you are not getting the wine back.” I took his bounty of cheese, fruit and wine off his hands.

Krait hefted our packs onto his shoulders and thanked the guards who had trailed us. “Stay near,” he told them, and they nodded their agreement.

“I can get mine.” I tried to argue about him carrying my pack.

“You know the way in. Get the door for me.”

Reaching the entry, I whispered, “In the Shadows we trust.” The lock clicked, and the door opened for us.

Krait dropped the heavy bags in the entryway. Before us lay an empty stone-floored hall with little decor outside of a wooden candelabra that hung above with flickering tealight candles.

I ventured beyond the entryway and into a sitting room with two deep leather sofas and a frayed red rug. The walls were all covered in white stucco, and there were brown wooden beams running across the expanse of the ceiling. To the right was a staircase up to the second level. To the left was a small kitchen with a hearth. I placed the food down on a butcher block.

A vase of striking freshly cut larkspur was set on a small kitchen table in the corner, giving the air a clean, subtle scent. It was as though someone had prepared for us to be here.

“I like these,” I noted and trailed my fingers over the delicate blue petals.

Krait kicked off his wet boots and peeled off his still-damp red tunic. I watched with interest.

How could the man be caked in mud and still somehow appeal to me?

He glanced at the flowers. “I had Ryn bring them. I know you like them.”

“So Ryn brought me flowers?”

His expression seemed downright playful when he said, “At my request.”

Trying to focus on his face without melting into a puddle at his feet, I asked, “Do you visit here frequently?”

“Not anymore—Elsedora or Ryn typically handle matters here when needed.”

He was taking off his pants now.

My hand found my throat, which had gone dry.

“Have you no shame?” I gasped out, shielding my eyes.

Huffing a dark laugh, he said, “It isn’t anything you haven’t seen before—don’t you want out of that filth too?”

I desperately wanted to remove the scratchy, damp material. Modesty be damned.

Unclasping the charmed quiver and bow from my back and discarding my sword onto the sofa, I sighed, having not realized how they’d weighed on me. My hands found the seam of my tunic. The feeling of the fabric peeling away from my skin was glorious.

Luckily, I’d worn conservative undergarments, but they did little to hide anything with the fabric clinging. “What are these other bathing arrangements?”

“You’ll see,” he said.

“Are you playing coy with me?”

He smirked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

At the river, he’d insisted he didn’t mean the things on that list.

Yet he’d written them.

Though who was I to judge someone for writing things they didn’t mean when I so often fired them off verbally? I hadn’t meant most of the fire I’d spewed his way. It scared me to admit it, but my reasons to keep him at arm’s length were dwindling.

As I peeled off my breeches, Krait walked over to a closet and retrieved what looked like two bedrolls, two pillows and a leather satchel, where he stowed the food and drink from the kitchen.

“We’re ready to go,” he declared.

“Wait. Like this?” I glanced down at myself and the thin white fabric barely covering me, and then to him, where his thin underbreeches left little to the imagination.

“Just like this,” he said and held his free hand to me. “There won’t be anyone else where we’re going.”

Reluctantly, I clasped his hand. An eager flutter settled in my stomach.