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“Akane,” he said to the little girl. “Why don’t you go grab her something from the kitchen?”
“We have some leftover onigiri?” Akane turned to look at Naia, waiting for some gesture of approval.
Naia had never heard of the dish, and Akane had pronounced the last syllable of the word with a different sound. Her tongue lightly tapped the roof of her mouth. Li.
They were bilingual. Fascinating.
Naia nodded slowly. “Um, all right.”
Akane started towards the door. “I’ll be right back, Ms. Lady.”
Naia turned her head to the man when Akane exited the room. “Onigiri?”
“Rice balls,” he clarified.
“The language sounds…”
“From the northeast. It’s where my mom’s side of the family is from.”
She’d read about all the different cultures of mortals. Nohealani Island was in the middle of the Kaimana Sea in western territory. Her curiosity flared with an intense desire to pick his brain. What sort of food do you eat? I’ve heard northeastern food is delightful. Can I hear you speak in your native language? Did you grow up speaking one language over the other?—
Stop it.
She rubbed back the loose hairs framing her face, rolling her lips.
Start with something smaller.
“What is your name?” she asked again. “Or shall I refer to you as ‘Man Who Crept in the Bushes’?”
One of his brows rose slightly, as if he found her snarky attitude amusing. “Ronin.”
She found his name pleasant, easy on the ears. It fit his nonchalant aura, despite not knowing him well.
“What about you?” he asked. “‘Woman Who Carries a Weapon on Her’?”
A spark of panic shot through her.
She tossed the blankets off her legs and got to her feet. “Where is my hairpin?”
He reached inside the front pocket of his pants and held Wren up. “This?”
“Give it back at once!” Naia marched across the room and snatched Wren away.
Ronin smirked. “I see you’re feeling better.”
Given her height as a goddess, it surprised her to learn he was as tall as her. “How dare you take what is mine!”
He slipped his hands into his pockets. His movements weren’t rushed, as if he didn’t have any care over her tone. “If I wanted to take it, why would I have offered it up to you?”
Naia held Wren to her chest, her heartbeat reverberating against her curled fingers. It was in her nature to doubt sincerity, to believe Ronin withheld Wren as leverage or to sell. Mortals were constantly seeking relics and old treasures of the deities to use at their own disposal.
But as she studied Ronin’s face, the fact of the matter was he’d helped her. Just as she’d asked before fainting, he took her somewhere else when he could’ve left her, and his act of kindness deserved at least a small portion of gratitude.
She dropped her arms back down to her sides, pressing her tongue against the inside of her teeth. “My name is Naia.”
Something about revealing her name and his burning gaze made her acutely aware of how vulnerable she was in the situation.
She fidgeted with Wren in between her fingers as something to do, wishing she’d never left the bed. A wind of humiliation burned her insides, being indebted to another. It was why she avoided asking for help.
