Embers of Passion

by Genna Love

  The scooped neckline showed off a small amount of her cleavage. She braided her hair into a long braid. “How do I look?”

  She twirled around.

  Taariq, who now wore the cream and green tunic he’d purchased, waited for her to finish spinning. “You look like the finest commoner in all of Lyria.”

  She’d be lying if she said the dress wasn’t much stiffer than the ones she had at the palace, but the flexibility of her dress fabric should be the least of her worries. “Shall we go?”

  “Put this on.” He handed her a headscarf from his clothing chest. “Best not to get recognized.”

  She wrapped the material over her hair the best she could, tugging the sides to cover her face from the peripheral. Now, the only way anyone could see her was from the front.

  As they walked down the boarding house hallway, a short man approached them. His gaze fixed on Zarah.

  “I didn’t know you had any friends, Taariq,” the man said. He straightened his posture and sucked in his gut before giving her a grin.

  “We were just on our way out,” Taariq said. “But don’t you worry, I’ll be bringing you rent soon.” He patted the man’s shoulder then grabbed Zarah’s hand and pulled her along until they stepped into the street.

  His touch, as always, was warm. But it wasn’t just the heat that brought comfort to Zarah. There was something else. She couldn’t pin down the feeling. It was unlike anything she’d ever felt. A part of her wanted to dismiss it as regular attraction. He was handsome. And he’d saved her twice now.

  But it was something else.

  When they first left the boarding house, the streets were empty. But the closer they got to the center of Penrith, the more people were out and about.

  Except for Zarah’s rebellious trips to the tavern, she rarely left the castle walls. It wasn’t allowed. Once a year, during the Solstice, her family took fully-guarded carriages to the cathedral located in the very center of the city. It was the largest place of worship in the entire Kingdom, and the very first structure the rest of the city was built around. From what she gathered in the small pieces of its history she found in her secret library, it was actually created as a place to worship the elemental gods.

  Most books, at least those that hadn’t been burned, claimed Lyria was founded as a place dedicated to the Divine, the deity the Lyrian people worshiped. But she’d found one book stating that the first residents of Lyria were actually mages who were sick of the constant wars from their homelands, and had come to create a place where mages of all elements were welcome.

  Which was ironic now that they all had been banned from the castle walls.

  Zarah kept her head down as they walked, but she couldn’t resist an occasional peek.

  A little girl caught her attention. She was dressed in a brown dress with a tattered hemline and clung to the doll in her hand as she watched older kids play a die game on the ground. Only, as Zarah looked closer, she realized the dress wasn’t brown. Small bits of cream snuck through the large patches of dirt caked onto the fabric.

  When was the last time the girl had had a bath?

  “You haven’t been out of the castle much, have you?” Taariq asked, eyeing her shocked expression.

  “I wasn’t supposed to leave at all unless it was under direct guard,” she kept her voice low so she wouldn’t be overheard by any of the people they passed. “Not that I listened. But the only time I dared go out was at night, and the only place I ever snuck to was the tavern.”

  “Sounds like your parents are quite protective.”

  That was an understatement. “They prevented me from doing anything they deemed dangerous, up until they decided to wed me to an evil prince because it served their purpose.”

  She hated the bitterness in her words, but it was exactly how she’d felt ever since she learned of her promised marriage. She just hadn’t vocalized her hurt until now. She swallowed her sour thoughts. None of it mattered anymore.

  As they continued, the houses around them grew nicer. The ones on the outskirts had been falling apart, but now they walked through a neighborhood of much larger homes.

  Finally, they arrived at the market.

  Behind it, the cathedral stood tall and proud. Delicate floral shapes had been carved into its stone as two turrets climbed high into the day’s bright blue sky, and a large balcony reached across the entire front of the massive building. With no clouds, the summer sun beat down onto the market below. How hot it must be to stand there in the strong rays.

  “There are so many merchants,” Zarah said as she tried to count them all, but she quickly gave up. Every time she’d been to the cathedral on the Solstice, the market had been cleared out. Seeing what the city looked like on a normal day was thrilling. What other interesting things could she find if she explored Penrith?

  Each merchant set up their store in his own unique way. Some used fabric over polls to create shade. Others tied together long strands of straw for their roofs.

  “Only the rich businesses can afford actual buildings for their stores. So, all the others with high aspirations have to start here.” Taariq guided Zarah to the right. “And some merchants move between all the kingdoms.”

  “Like gypsies?”

  Taariq shrugged. “I’m sure you could call some of them that.”

  What would it be like to travel between all the kingdoms and see all the different cultures first hand? Lyria would always be Zarah’s home, and the thought of trading one castle for another when she’d expected it to be the Cadasian castle and her life to be under the wicked prince’s thumb had felt more like a punishment than anything.

  But a life with true freedom and travel? She almost couldn’t imagine it.

  They passed the food section first. There were stands with fruits, vegetables, fish, meats, and breads, with merchants ranging from small elderly women to tall young men. Zarah wondered when they decided to start their businesses. Was it out of necessity with no other choices? Was it something they’d dreamed of doing since they were children?

  She’d always been jealous of those in the city who got to choose their own paths. She, Aerilyn, and their older brother Leo had no say in the matter. Leo would someday be king, and Zarah and Aerilyn would marry whomever their parents deemed to be a politically fit match. At least, that had been her future until she’d fucked it all up.

  But she’d never considered the detriments of life outside the castle. The stress of uncertainty or the amount of work following a dream would take. Seeing the dirty little girl had shown her just how much she’d taken her luxuries for granted.

  Taariq leaned close to Zarah, their hands still locked. “That will be our target.” He gestured to a man selling pelts of fur and items made of leather.

  The man had to be around her father’s age, with dark shaggy hair graying around this forehead. His clothes were clean, but simple. A moss-colored tunic hung over brown pants that were tucked into worn leather boots. He smiled as he took some coins from a young woman, then walked around and slipped them into a bag hung on a hook on one of his tent’s wooden columns.

  “What must I do?” she asked.

  “Distract him. Guide him away from the money, and keep him busy until I come to you.”

  That couldn’t be too hard, so why were her hands suddenly so sweaty? She rubbed her fingers together, willing herself to get it together. If she couldn’t hold her nerves, the merchant would grow suspicious.

  Zarah took three deep breaths, releasing the tension in her muscles then left Taariq and approached the seller. “Hello, sir.” Out of habit, she dipped into a curtsy.

  “Hello, miss.” He gave her a quizzical stare and folded his arm in front of his torso and bowed. “Can I help you with anything today?”

  She filed a mental note not to curtsy next time and pretended to scan the options until settling on a dark leather bag. She moved to the bag and spun so that, in order to face her, the man would have to turn his back on the satchel of money
. “What animal is this from?” Her fingers slowly slid down the smooth fabric.

  “That is from a bull, Miss.” Just as she’d planned, the man was now looking away from the money.

  “He must have been a beauty,” Zarah said as Taariq slowly approached the stand. “Do you raise the animals yourself? You look very strong for a merchant. Like a very hard worker.” One of the first things her mother taught her when she turned sixteen, the age of womanhood in Lyria, was the power of flattery.

  “Oh, well…” The man scratched his chin. “My son does most of the work on our farm since much of my time is spent inside the kingdom, selling.”

  “A son? How old can he be, six? You look so young.” She latched her gaze onto his, smiling.

  “Twenty, actually,” the man said as he puffed his chest out. “I’ve been told I look good for my age.”

  “I’ll say.”

  Taariq quickly reached into the bag and pulled out a handful of coin, then gave Zarah a nod. He stuck the money into his pocket, then made a half-circle to approach her from a different angle. “There you are, my love.”

  The man stared at him, his sudden confident stature retreating as he frowned. “Hello.”

  “We best be going.” Taariq twined his hand with Zarah’s again. “I promise to buy you a beautiful purse next time.”

  “It was lovely meeting you,” Zarah said.

  At first, the thrill of doing something wrong had energized her. But now, knowing that they were stealing from this kind man who left his family to provide for them, guilt balled in her stomach. Perhaps there was another way.

  Taariq tugged her along as they walked away from the store. “That was almost too easy. You had that poor man eating out of your hand.”

  “Are there no other options?” Zarah asked.

  Taariq stopped. “Don’t worry. We will turn what I took into enough to pay the man back, pay my rent, and buy you whichever bag of his you most desire.”

  His promise didn’t make what they’d just done right, but it helped curb her shame a little.

  “Let’s hurry. I don’t want him to notice anything is missing,” she said.

  As they passed one of the largest stands, full of a multitude of brightly colored fabrics, Zarah noticed a man watching her from the corner of her eye. His blue eyes seemed to consume her, both inside and out. Worried he somehow knew who she was, she pretended not to notice him staring and pulled the headscarf in front of her face. Had she met him before? She couldn’t place his face, but something about him seemed familiar.

  She was probably just panicking for nothing. It was unlikely that anyone would recognize her there in that market, so far from the castle where she belonged.

  So, why couldn’t she shake the feeling that, somehow, she knew him?

  Eli

  Eli had spotted the thieves as soon as he saw them.

  The way the two headed straight for the poor merchant’s stand had been a sure sign that they were up to something. Eli had watched as the woman so easily distracted the man while her accomplice dipped his hand right into the coin purse. He could only feel so much sympathy, though, since keeping the money so easily exposed was just asking to be robbed.

  What had intrigued him was that the man had only taken a handful of coin. He could have easily grabbed the whole bag and ran. The woman had the man thinking of anything but his money. Eli couldn’t blame him. A long, dark braid fell from her headscarf, which did a good job of concealing everything but her pleasant face. She’d been too far away for him to get a good look, but something about her seemed familiar.

  But the thief hadn’t robbed the man dry, which had Eli curious enough to follow the two of them.

  He’d just docked his ship this morning. He and his crew had brought over the latest stock he’d traded for in the Eastern Kingdoms. Lyria was well-known for its metal work, and with the right negotiation skills, Eli was able to purchase it cheap. He’d deliver it to the Eastern Kingdoms, where he’d trade it for rolls of the finest fabrics and beads.

  The luxurious textiles were taken straight to the castle. Only nobles could afford the most lavish of his offerings. Only last month the queen herself had come to inspect his newest shipment.

  In his twenty-six years of age, it was the first time he’d been so close to royalty, and she’d been much kinder than he’d expected. As she perused the white fabrics, she shared that her eldest daughter was set to marry the youngest Cardasian Prince. He had offered her his congratulations, but he couldn’t help but catch the sadness in her eyes.

  What kind of life the royals must have. Waited on hand and foot, money to buy anything they could dream of. He’d always figured they’d be out of touch with reality, so he’d been surprised when she seemed relatively normal. But one interaction with a queen made him no expert on the personalities of nobles.

  Eli was careful to keep his distance from the man and woman as he trailed them through the city streets. Their pace was steady, but neither too fast nor too slow. Not once did they give a backward glance to check if they were being followed, a sign that they thought they’d gotten away unnoticed.

  When they turned into a pub popular for its gambling scene, his interest piqued even more. He waited a few minutes before heading inside. There was no need to make his pursuit of them so obvious.

  Once enough time had passed, he entered the pub. He’d been here a few times before. Although he wasn’t much of a gambler himself, a few of his crew were, and now and again he’d bring them out to drink and play some dice. He found it kept morale up, something much needed after particularly long journeys at sea. His crew was his family now. Occasionally, he’d visit his mother, father, and sister at their home in the Jade Isles, but the majority of his time was spent on his ship with his brothers at sea.

  As soon as he turned the corner into the main room, the woman’s gaze found him. Her eyes shifted in apprehension before she whispered something to the man with her. He didn’t respond, instead focusing on his roll.

  He hadn’t thought she saw him in the market, but maybe he was wrong.

  Since it was still early in the day, there were only two tables with gamblers. The other was full, leaving Eli’s only choice the table with the man and woman and one other player. He could sit at the bar and not gamble, but then he couldn’t find out more about the two.

  He walked straight for the table and pulled out a handful of coins, picking out a few of the silvers and sticking the rest back into his pocket. “I’d like in.”

  “Somebody’s rich,” the man-thief said under his breath.

  “Some of us work hard for our money,” Eli responded cooly as he sat down, stacking his coins on the table.

  The man didn’t respond, but the woman looked as if she might hurl. Had she been forced into helping the man?

  No longer in her headscarf, Eli now had a better view of the young woman. He took her in more closely. Her long braid was smooth, with no fraying ends, a sign of conditioning treatments. Her brows had been plucked, and her skin was bright and dewy. All evidence that she was no commoner. Only the nobles had access to the beauty products for such a complexion and luscious hair.

  That would explain the perfect curtsy she’d given the merchant, an act very few commoners ever did. He’d thought the gesture was odd, but he hadn’t thought too much of it before. Now, the pieces added together.

  But he wasn’t sure why a noble woman was in the middle of Penrith, helping to steal something from a random merchant.

  She avoided his gaze, which only made her guilt all the more apparent.

  Something else about her called to him. He’d traveled to three different continents, visiting so many kingdoms he lost count, so he’d seen plenty of beautiful women. He wouldn’t deny this woman’s beauty, but it isn’t what drew him to her.

  “Are you from around here?” he asked as the third gambler made his first roll.

  The male thief shifted the coins in his hand, gliding them across his fingers. Clearly,
he knew what he was doing. This wasn’t his first time gambling, or for that matter, stealing. “Not too far away.”

  “That’s a lovely dress,” Eli said, this time directing his statement directly to the woman. She was the one who most fascinated him, a mystery he yearned to solve.

  “Thank you. It’s new,” she said, her voice bright and charming. She sat up straight and, no longer shying away from him, angled her body toward Eli. “The embroidery on your jacket is quite exquisite.”

  “Why, yes. It is some fine detail work, isn’t it?” It wasn’t unheard of for commoners to care about the craftsmanship of clothing, but usually only the wealthy ones usually noticed something like stitching. And usually, those with money didn’t steal.

  It was his turn to go.

  He took the leather skin cup and shook the three dice inside. He needed at least two sixes or three of a kind to win the round, and he had three rolls to do it in.

  The first roll gave him two threes and a six. Not good enough. On his second try, he got two fives. Still short.

  When he glanced up, the woman was now watching him, her head tilted like a cat observing a mouse.

  Eli grinned, pleased at her attention, and gave his last roll.

  Not even two of a kind.

  “We win!” the male thief said. He leaned over and kissed the woman’s cheek, causing her cheeks to flush.

  Eli had assumed they were lovers, but perhaps he’d jumped to conclusions. He pushed the coins he’d bet toward them. So did the other gambler, before getting up and heading to the bar for a drink, leaving Eli alone with the man and woman.

  “Did you two find anything good in the market today?” he asked.

  “Nothing worth buying,” the man said as he counted his winnings.

  “Buying, isn’t your style, is it?” Eli really wasn’t sure what the point of all this was. He clearly wasn’t going to turn them into the poor merchant. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen someone steal something in the market, though it might have been the only time he’d seen someone purposefully leave so much coin left behind.