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A few minutes later, we were on our horses, and I could easily sense that Vulcan was happy to see something other than the stable.

Cyrian and Olba followed us at a reasonable distance.

It was a pleasant ride and we enjoyed chatting.

The habits and customs of the Osacanians seemed to interest her, so I made a point of satisfying her curiosity on this point, as well as on the workings of the messengers of the heavens, the great noble eagles.

The Osacan markets were constantly crowded.

From dawn to dusk, merchants and customers pressed up against each other, haggling over every item as if their lives depended on it.

It was a unique atmosphere, quite exhilarating if you liked crowds.

A place with its own unspoken rules, such as never acquiring a good at the first price offered.

It was with undisguised pleasure that I watched Ashana discover a little of the culture of this beautiful country that I myself had grown to love over the years.

We had entrusted the horses to the stable of the blacksmith Carendor, in order to better enjoy the walk. As usual, Olba and Cyrian stood slightly behind, also benefiting, in a certain way, from our stroll.

“Do you like anything?” I asked, while my wife looked at some ivory hair combs.

I instinctively stood behind her, my eyes also glued to the display of accessories.

Ashana turned sharply—so sharply, in fact, that she nearly bumped her nose against my chest. She drew back imperceptibly before adjusting her gaze to mine.

“My sisters love this kind of thing. Perhaps I could send them some. Do you think the big eagles are capable of carrying a few gifts in addition to the missive?”

“It’s within their capabilities, yes. They can carry a man.”

His eyes widened.

“What?” gasped Ashana, visibly shocked.

“A man of medium stature. You see, on battlefields, sometimes officers die, and their bodies have to be repatriated. Large eagles are very useful for this task, so I imagine a few combs shouldn’t be a problem for them.”

I then addressed the salesman in Osacanian:

“Serve my wife properly. There are ten moras in this purse. That’s more than enough.”

The man with the round, red cheeks and a blue shirt too small for his protruding belly tugged twice on his fine moustache, his eyes shining with lust. Ten moras, the Osacan currency, was a generous price for a few combs.

I was well aware of this, only I preferred Ashana to learn the art of haggling later with her chambermaids.

It was something that could last a long time—and I had no desire to waste this precious time with my wife over an endless discussion with a complete stranger.

Ashana chose three for her mother and sisters: one purple, one midnight blue, and one pale pink.

“What about you?”

She gasped, then raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

“Me?”

I nodded and pointed to the stall.

“You didn’t take anything.”

She turned her head to follow the direction indicated by my finger, before murmuring a troubled little “ah.”

“I forgot.”

It unsettled me. How could anyone "forget” themselves?

I’d followed Nadrisse shopping in the past, and if there was one thing I was now sure of, it was that she never forgot herself in her purchases.

Quite the opposite, in fact. I looked down at the display and my attention was immediately drawn to a large jade comb.

I grabbed it and placed it awkwardly in her hair.

“We’ll take this one too,” I announced to the seller, without taking my eyes off Ashana.

She touched the comb with her fingertips, strangely moved. I smiled at her.

“Your reaction might lead me to believe that this is the first time a man has given you a gift,” I joked.

She blushed briefly.

“This is the case.”

I was speechless with amazement. However, in a way, this news made me happy. Yes. The thought of being first for her in so many ways made me happy. I leaned in slightly until my lips brushed her earlobe.

“Well, get ready to make a habit of it, because it won’t be the last.”

I felt her shudder and a sudden surge of desire twisted my lower abdomen.

It was as devastating as it was painful.

This woman was driving me crazy. I had a sudden urge to hold her and kiss her breath away.

A dull, animalistic growl escaped from my chest, making her look up in my direction.

How could I resist? Was it even possible?

“Lord Dovah!” a male voice cried out.

I turned towards the voice. It was Cyrian trying to reach us from across the aisle.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

He only answered me in a low voice when he was close enough to me:

“Creatures from the Abyss in the dunes around Tarnton. We must intervene, as caravans of merchants are blocked from entering the enclosure because of these monsters.”

My head jerked back, betraying my surprise. Creatures from the Abyss? In the middle of the day?

It was indeed an urgent matter that required my intervention. I turned to my wife to inform her of my temporary absence, but to my astonishment, she was no longer there!

“Ashana!”

Her first name was forced out of my mouth without me even thinking about it. The seller handed me a letter whose paper was made from baked tree bark. I unfolded the letter while the man in front of me explained:

“He came out of nowhere, grabbed your lady and phew! They had both disappeared and all that was left was this paper! I’m so sorry! There was nothing I could do! It all happened so fast!”

From the tone of his voice, I knew the seller wasn’t lying and that he was genuinely fearful of my reaction. My jaw tightened as I read the words written in rather rough Osacanian: “I imagine you want your flame back, so I suggest you join me at the oasis. Your loving brother, Kynnen.”

If the air dragon had wanted to get my attention, he’d succeeded.