"Master, you took forever," Taro drawled, brushing dirt from his bare arms. "I nearly died of boredom."
Raymun stared. "W–What are you?"
Taro blinked as if offended. "Rude. I have a name, Moon-girl."
Osairin sighed. "Ignore him."
"I'm a jackal," Taro said proudly.
"Also a man."
He wiggled his eyebrows. "Depends on the day."
Raymun's mouth opened, closed, opened again. " were you— were you watching us sleep?"
Taro snorted. "I watch everyone sleep."
Osairin shot him a glare.
"Okay, okay," Taro said, raising his hands. "I was guarding you. Happy? He even ordered me to get you berries."
Then he leaned closer to Raymun, sniffed once, and nodded.
"She needs new clothes. She smells like river water and destiny."
"Destiny doesn't have a smell," Raymun muttered.
"It does," Taro said. "And yours is loud."
Osairin looked at her then, eyes unexpectedly soft.
"He's right," he murmured. "We should find you something to wear."
And for the first time, Raymun didn't feel entirely alone between them.
The three of them headed through the trees toward a small riverside village. Smoke curled into the morning sky—early cooking fires—and the murmur of merchants drifted on the breeze.
Taro walked ahead, humming loudly.
Raymun whispered to Osairin, "Is he always like this?"
"Unfortunately."
"He's… unusual."
"He's a menace." He sighed.
"HEY," Taro yelled back. "I can hear both of you!"
Raymun stifled a laugh. Osairin didn't. He actually smiled—a soft curve of lips she'd never seen before.
It made her heart jump.
"You should smile more," she said before her brain could stop her.
Osairin blinked. "Why?"
"Because—" she swallowed "—it makes you look less dangerous."
Taro shouted from ahead, "IT DOESN'T, TRUST ME."
Osairin's smile widened. Raymun looked away quickly. She shouldn't be noticing how perfect his jaw looked in the sunlight. Or how the shadows made his golden eyes gleam like molten amber.
She definitely shouldn't be staring at his shoulders.
Or the muscles in his arms.
Or—
Focus, Raymun.
The villagers were already up and preparing for the market. Chickens darted around. Sellers argued loudly. Children chased each other with woven baskets.
Taro threw his arms open dramatically.
"Welcome to My Favorite Place to Steal Food."
Osairin didn't even slow his steps. "Do not steal."
"I don't steal," Taro scoffed. "I acquire."
Raymun whispered, "So I ate stolen berries?"
"No," Osairin muttered.
Taro turned to her. "I like you, Moon-girl. You have survival instincts. You doubt everything. Good. That means you'll live longer."
"I'm not sure that's comforting."
"It wasn't meant to be."
They found a small clothing stall run by an older woman with sharp eyes and a sharper tongue.
"Morning," Taro greeted. "We need clothes for my friend here."
The woman looked at Raymun and nearly dropped the fabric in her hands.
"By the gods—she's glowing."
Raymun winced. "I'm very normal."
"No, she's not," Taro corrected. "But it's fine. We're hiding that."
The woman held up a heavily embroidered cloak and a deep hood. "This will cover her hair and half her face. No one will question."
Raymun nodded eagerly.
But when she reached for the cloak, Osairin stepped behind her, gently lifting it instead. He draped it over her shoulders with slow, careful hands.
Her breath hitched.
His fingers brushed the back of her neck. Warm. Deliberate. Almost protective.
"You'll be safer like this," he murmured.
Raymun's cheeks heated.
Taro gagged loudly. "Are you two done being dramatic? She needs shoes. And maybe gloves. And probably a mask. Or a basket. Or a very large jar."
Osairin glared at him.
Taro grinned.
Raymun adjusted the hood over her silver hair, tugging it low over her eyes. "Do I really look… invisible?"
"Almost," Osairin murmured, his hand lingering briefly at her shoulder before he stepped back. "But not quite."
"Not quite?" she repeated, voice teasing. "So someone could still notice me?"
He smiled, slow and dangerous, and she felt her pulse stutter. "Only someone who matters."
Taro snorted. "Ohhh, danger and romance in the morning! Love it."
Before Raymun could glare at him, a small commotion erupted near a pile of crates. A goat had gotten loose, bounding wildly through the market. Vendors yelled, children shrieked, and Taro immediately sprinted after it.
"Leave it!" Osairin barked, but Raymun froze. The goat's dark eyes met hers—and it froze too. Then, impossibly, it started toward her.
Instinctively, she stepped back. The goat nudged her cloak with its nose. Raymun yelped and clung to Osairin, arms brushing his chest.
"I—uh—I'm not good with animals," she admitted, face pressed against his shirt.
"Clearly," Osairin teased, golden eyes glinting. "But I'm here. Nothing will touch you."
Raymun blinked up at him, cheeks burning. "Even a goat?"
He leaned close, voice low, almost a whisper: "Especially a goat."
Osairin leaned down, hands settling lightly on her arms as he pulled the fabric away from the goat's mouth. His chest brushed her back. His breath warmed her neck.
"There," he murmured.
She whispered, "You're really close."
"I'm removing a goat," he said. "Not seducing you."
"You sound disappointed."
His lips twitched. "I didn't say that."