As they parted, she felt Castiel’s gaze on her back. She rounded the corner, silk skirts whispering against the gravel, the hum of the arena growing louder with each step.
And yet, his voice echoed within her, tethering her to the moment that could never be.
Chapter Two
KAELENDRIN
Kaelen leaned back in his chair, gazing out over Nymaris’s bustling port. The salty wind from the bay swept through the open-air restaurant, gently rattling chalkboards hanging from wooden beams, the scribbled menus swaying ever so slightly. The air was thick with scents—sharp citrus from the market stalls, the crusty warmth of fresh bread, and the rich smokiness of seafood crackling over open flames, cutting clean through the smell of the ocean.
The city’s essence was palpable in every breath, a heady blend of salt, spice, and the promise of indulgence.
Brine slicked his fingers as he cracked open a crab claw, the tender meat inside glistening in the late morning sun. It was a luxury his landlocked kingdom could never offer fresh. Back home, seafood always arrived brined, preserved, and weeks too late.
But here, every meal hummed with life, as if the Issoirea Sea itself breathed into every bite.
He grinned to himself—until he caught the look on his brother’s face.
Across the table, Alarik sat rigid, plate untouched.
“We should’ve continued on,” he said, his tone clipped, disapproval in everysyllable.
Kaelen didn’t reply. Instead, he swirled a shelled crab claw in a dish of melted butter, letting the moment stretch. “We’re here now. May as well enjoy it.”
Alarik’s expression didn’t soften. His focus remained distant, weighted with a tension Kaelen had grown all too familiar with.
He sighed and held the morsel aloft, the golden butter gleaming in the sunlight. “Here. Taste this.”
Alarik raised a dark brow. “I don’t want it.”
“This is a rare delicacy for us.”
When Alarik still didn’t move, he waved the claw, grin widening. “Come on. It’s fresh. It’ll melt in your mouth.”
After a long pause, Alarik’s shoulders eased. He accepted the morsel with a sigh, sucking the meat from the shell. His eyes flickered, betraying the tiniest glimmer of appreciation.
Kaelen smirked. “Good, isn’t it?”
“It’s fine,” came the muttered reply, though a hand reached for another claw.
Small victories, he thought, leaning back.
His gaze returned to his surroundings, where the ebb and flow of people painted a picture of vibrant life. Merchants bartered beneath striped awnings, sailors hauled crates onto swaying ships, and courtiers meandered in silken finery. The hum of the place settled deep in his bones, a lively rhythm.
He supposed this was the appeal of Nymaris, the capital of Aethonia. Though a small island nation, it sat at the heart of the Nine Issoirean Kingdoms. The realms bordering the Issoirea Sea had forged alliances and trade agreements that turned this city into a thriving hub. Here, northern furs and southern spices exchanged hands as easily as whispers and bargains.
“It’s as busy as I expected,” he commented, letting the observation slip aloud.
Alarik didn’t look up, answering in his usual level tone, “Aethonia is the spine of the Issoirea routes. Every ship bound for the north or south passes through here.”
Kaelen’s lips quirked faintly as he watched on. “There’s something about this place—so refreshing, so alive.”
His brother glanced at him, brow furrowed. “Your wanderlust talking again?”
“Maybe.” He shrugged, tossing a crab shell onto his plate. “Or maybe it’s just being near the ocean. It feels . . . free. Like you could hop on a ship and sail to somewhere new, somewhere beyond the same old routine.”
Alarik arched a brow. “It sounds like another excuse to dodge responsibilities.”
Kaelen grinned, raising his mug. “You know me too well.”