Roan and Ocean walked through the bustling streets of Oasis, though walking was a generous word for what Roan was doing. He was maneuvering. Sidestepping. Strategically shielding himself from elbows, lace sleeves, and overenthusiastic socialites who seemed magnetically drawn to Ocean's mere existence.
The market square glittered with color, silk banners swayed overhead in pastel ribbons of spring, perfumed air clung to the breeze, and jewel-toned carriages lined the curb like resting beasts. But none of that distracted the crowd from its favorite spectacle.
Ocean.
People slowed. Heads turned. Conversations dipped into hushed murmurs.
Roan clenched his jaw as yet another noblewoman "accidentally" drifted too close.
"Careful," he muttered under his breath as he tugged Ocean slightly away from a cluster of staring debutantes. "If they stare any harder, they'll burn holes through your coat."
Ocean hummed, utterly unbothered.
