"Are you going to hand that over," I said at last, breaking the awkward silence with a sharp tone, "or do you plan to admire yourself in it?"
My mask snapped back on. Eris the queen, not the woman caught off guard.
He didn't answer. He only looked at me, looked through me, with that intensity that made the heat in my body falter, as though his stare itself was an icy wind pressing down on my flame. His silence clawed at me until I wondered what, exactly, he was seeing. My hair undone, my cloak frayed, a queen in a commoner's rags skulking through a market.
Then, he chuckled. Soft, low, like something inside him found it all unbearably amusing.
My irritation spiked. "The stone. Now."
Still, he didn't move at once. That damn smile faded into something else, softer, curious, the same look he'd worn when he found me asleep in the garden. Finally, with an awkward little laugh, he held the gem back to me.
"I swear," he murmured, "I wasn't following you. I didn't mean to… intrude."
I blinked, thrown. Not following me? Intrude? "What are you..."
But his expression shifted before I could finish. The smile collapsed into seriousness, though a strange need flickered beneath it, raw and exposed.
"The Flame's Terror. The Fire Queen. The God's Vessel." He listed my titles like weights pressing down, his voice dipping softer with each one. "You keep surprising me, Eris. Two nights, and you've melted every expectation. Of all the places I might have found you…" His eyes swept over the crowded stalls, the lanterns, the dirt underfoot. "Here would've been last."
Something unwanted twisted in my chest. I hated that his words left me feeling… seen.
He went on, voice low, "I wanted to apologize. For this morning. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
A sliver of guilt, sharp and unexpected, lodged under my ribs. I drew myself taller. "Don't. I gave you a warning already. You should beware next time."
That earned another chuckle from him, warmer this time. His gaze dipped briefly to the stone clenched in my fist. "Strange little thing to pick up in all this chaos. What drew you to it?"
I tightened my grip, turning away. "It's none of your concern."
Without waiting for his reply, I swept past him into the crowd.
But I wasn't rid of him. His footsteps slid into rhythm with mine, the quiet weight of his presence refusing to peel away.
We slipped deeper into the tide of the market, its noise swelling like a sea around us. Stalls glowed with lantern light, hawkers cried over one another, and all the while his footsteps dogged mine.
"What are you doing here, your majesty?" His tone was too casual.
"Walking."
"Why dressed like that?"
"Comfort."
He chuckled under his breath. "And here I thought queens had entire wardrobes for every mood. Is this your 'comfortably commoner' collection?"
I refused to dignify it with an answer.
"You do realize," he continued, utterly unbothered, "that if your goal was to look ordinary, you've failed. Miserably. Even hidden under a cloak, you glow brighter than half these torches."
I gave him silence.
"Mm. A woman of one-word answers. How long before you crack, I wonder?"
The corner of my mouth twitched. Infuriating man. "Why are you here then?"
He lit up like I'd handed him a prize. "Because Solmire's night market is one of my favorite things about this kingdom. The noise, the colors, the food, it feels alive."
I arched a brow. "You expect me to believe you slipped away from your empire for candied fruit and cheap lanterns?"
He leaned slightly closer, voice dropping playfully. "Would you rather I say I came for the wine? Or perhaps the fire dancers?"
I rolled my eyes, but he only smiled wider.
Then he dropped it, lightly, like it meant nothing at all:
"Besides… Caelen and Ophelia suggested I come down."
My feet stopped. The crowd surged past me, warm bodies brushing, the festival's glow humming around us, but for a moment, it was only that name echoing in my head.
The moment he said their names, the market's clamor dulled in my ears.
Caelen. And Ophelia.
Here.
Frolicking through the lantern-lit stalls like some star-crossed lovers while the world watched and sighed. My world, the one I'd bled for, the one I'd ruled in fire and fear.
The thought of stumbling across them now made something tighten, sharp and sour, in my chest.
I said nothing. Silence was safer. But beside me, he stopped too, gaze flicking over me, catching the slip in my mask.
He understood. Without words. And I hated that he did.
"Eris..."
"Don't."
My voice cut like ice. I started forward again, forcing my steps into the current of the crowd. "If they invited you, why aren't you with them? Shouldn't you be trailing in their wake, basking in their sunshine?"
He matched my pace easily, unbothered. "I prefer wandering. Crowds are like rivers, if you let them carry you, you'll always find something you didn't expect. Like the fire queen for instance."
I didn't answer. My mind was still tangled, more bothered than I had any right to be. The image of them, together, lingered like smoke.
Then, out of nowhere, his tone brightened.
"Ah. Speaking of things unexpected, have you tried the skewers here? Spicy, dripping with fat, charred to perfection, gods, I swear they taste better in Solmire than anywhere else in the realm."
I blinked at him, baffled by the shift in topic.
"I've been searching for the stall all night. And now, " His mouth quirked. ", I finally found it."
Before I could scoff, his hand closed around mine. Firm. Cold. Oddly grounding and too intimate for two rulers who barely exchanged words throughout their reign for long.
I pulled, instinctive. "Soren."
He only smiled down at me, maddeningly calm. "You can scold me later Queen Eris. But I'm starving."
And just like that, he tugged me through the press of bodies, the scent of smoke and spice already curling toward us.
What an odd man.