Page 105 of A Veil of Gods and Kings

He nodded. “It is.”

We fell into silence, and Hyacinth slipped his fingers between mine, letting our hands become tangled up with the other. I’d like to stay there forever with him, watching the sun set, the humming noises of the world sweeping in on a breeze around us.

Hyacinth finished his food and placed the empty skewer down.

“Did you like it?” I said.

He hummed, a contented sound that vibrated through me with how close we sat. “Yes. Like many things I’ve experienced since meeting you, it pleasantly surprised me.”

I pulled my sleeping roll out of my knapsack and stretched it out. “Here.” Hyacinth lay down beside me, our heartbeats sparkling together like the stars that peeked out over the blanket of the sky.

“What all do you keep in that bag?”

I cleared my throat. “Not much.”

His eyes tightened, but he gave a quick nod and turned his face towards the heavens, his thumb gliding over the back of my knuckles.

My knapsack had… everything. I’d never even shown Temi what all I kept in it. There was nothing more sacred to me. I fiddled my free hand over it before sitting up and blowing out a breath. “I’ll show you.”

Hyacinth rose beside me, crossing his legs. “You don’t have to.”

My fingers froze on the fastener, and my throat tightened, but I peeled the latch open. I pulled out my bow, a bundle of arrows, and a sheath of knives.

Hyacinth chuckled. “Are you or your sister ever unarmed?”

“No.”

His laughter deepened, and I reached in, drawing out a navy ribbon. “This belonged to my mother.” I handed it to him, and his fingers skimmed along it with a reverence like the gods had formed it of magic and gold.

“It’s beautiful,” he said.

I returned it to the knapsack and drew out a wooden beaded bracelet, the surface smooth and faded. “This was Temi’s when she was a child. We grew up in a small village. Our mother was the high priestess until her death.” I let the weight of the trinket rest heavily in my palm. “Every baby receives a bracelet at birth, and when they turn ten, they choose someone to give it to, a person they hope to share friendship with past this lifetime. Temi gave hers to me.”

Hyacinth hovered his fingers over my hand so gently it tickled. “You all are very close.”

“We always have been. All we’ve ever really had is each other.”

He nodded, his eyes solemn and wide, like the moon that woke in the sky. I exchanged the bracelet and drew out a charred piece of wood, bent and twisted, an ebony section surrounding a hole in it. My fingernails bit into it, and my past swirled in front of me, smoke filling my sinuses, screams drowning out the city.

Hyacinth snatched it from my hand, and I startled, sucking in a breath.

“Are you all right?” he said.

The shingle, marred and damaged, tucked under the beauty of his curled fingers, caused my heart to drop into my stomach. I grabbed it and tossed it into my bag. “That… reminds me of something I’d rather not talk about.”

The v-shaped dimple formed between his brows.

“You’re going to give yourself wrinkles,” I said, attempting to keep my voice light, but it came hoarse and weighed heavily in my chest. Hyacinth gripped my wrist between his thumb and finger, stroking over the green vein there.

I took a deep breath of the air filled with yeasty smells, the dirt of the road, and the sweet jasmine scent of Hyacinth, that overpowered all of it. “And, lastly...” I tucked my hand back into the bag and pulled out my lyre.

Hyacinth’s eyebrows jumped up. “Can you play it?”

I grinned. “Yes, and I’ve even been told I’m tolerable.”

“You do everything well, golden boy; don’t try to pretend otherwise.” I rolled my eyes as he continued speaking. “Would you play for me?”

I shrugged with one shoulder. “If you’d like.”