Page 28 of Thief of Hearts

“Did you hear how quiet it was?”

Now that I thought about it, it had been strangely quiet. “Yes.”

“Sagaris has moved the blacksmiths, all metalworkers, carpenters, and any animal that makes noise, like chickens, out of the main city. The people here prefer to stay up all night drinking and sleep through the day, so the city has to be quiet. They also have wine piped into their homes the same way they do water.”

“What?” I asked, bewildered. I’d never heard of such things. Not to mention that back home I depended on the roosters to wake me up for early-morning training.

“They take their reveling very seriously. The invitation to this celebration went out a year ago so that the women had enough time to decide what to wear. I met a man yesterday who shared that with me, and that he hadn’t seen the sun in twenty years.”

I couldn’t imagine living in a place like this, where everything was devoted to luxury and indulgence. I would get bored.

“You seem to know a lot about Sagaris.”

“I know a lot about everyone and everything. It’s part of my job description. You always have to know what you’re walking into and whether customs or beliefs will in some way interfere with your plans. Like if I were to rob people here, I would do it midmorning when they were all passed out.”

Earlier he’d mentioned adding a fact to his Thracian list when I’d told him we didn’t name our animals. He compiled information about different groups. “You won’t always have those facts before you try to rob someone.”

“That’s true, but I also read people like you do. You can’t steal from them if you don’t understand them,” he said.

Others didn’t generally realize that about me—that I could tell what people wanted and whether they were being deceptive. “How did you know I read people?”

“You are very observant and perceptive. As am I. Another reason we will be such a good match.”

He said it so matter-of-factly, as if it were a foregone conclusion. Destined.

Inevitable.

A thought that should have scared me and didn’t.

This was too much. My strange reactions made me nervous.

And I was never nervous.

Zain said, “You have a leaf in your—”

He reached for my head and muscle memory took over. I grabbed his wrist, twisted it, and held it in place behind his back, immobilizing him. I knew that it hurt but he didn’t cry out.

I was about to let go and apologize when I felt him shaking. Was he . . . crying?

Then I realized that he was shaking like that because he was laughing so hard. He jerked against my hand to free himself, and again, I reacted on instinct. Tightening my grip.

He turned his head to look at me. “What is it your people call this gift?”

“Battle-favored.”

“I was wondering how you thought you were going to win. I knew you wouldn’t be here unless you were sure that you would. And just so you know, I can get out of this.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

Before the last syllable had left my mouth, Zain was on the move. He bent at the waist while rotating his fingers up and out. He freed himself and then lunged at my waist, pushing me back until a wall stopped me.

He was fast. Not as fast as me, but faster than most.

And I had been so surprised by his maneuver that I let him push me. It hadn’t been forceful or rough—he’d been careful. He straightened up, keeping his body flush against mine. My stomach turned somersaults while my heart pumped rapidly in my chest.

“Interesting,” he murmured. “You wouldn’t have permitted me to do this unless you wanted me to.”

His body felt hard and unyielding but warm and inviting all at the same time.