Clara

"Ti’ana," I tell Drevakin when at last I understand he's asking where I need to go.

An unreadable expression crosses his face.

"Prince Rathorin?" he prods, his focus intense.

This is awkward.

I nod, looking away as I confirm I'm matched with Rathorin. This was wrong, but it's weird to think that way. Really, I just met Rathorin, yet somehow I'm tied to him. I don't feel the same attraction for him as I do for Drevakin. Case in point, what just happened.

When I look back at Drevakin, it's like he’s a totally different person. His eyes are cool, his face reserved. He's withdrawn now as he stands, even though he's physically still right in front of me.

"Come," he orders, his voice neutral as he gestures to follow but doesn’t offer his hand or his arm.

There’s the same chill in his voice and his body language. Somehow, I’m more alone now than I was before I met him. Losing what I thought was a real connection is more intense than it should be.

Joseph. Shame, regret and loneliness is overwhelming as I follow behind Drevakin, walking slowly as he climbs up the steps that lead back to the village.

I know it must not be great for him to know I'm technically with someone else, but I can't help being hurt by how he's shut down. Like what just happened between us meant nothing to him. And the thought that maybe it doesn't isn't comfortable. I could be just another notch in his sword belt.

Or maybe I'm being naive about the whole thing. Not an adjective I would have ever thought to apply to myself. I'm also not the most experienced person when it comes to relationships, casual or otherwise.

I was never the person to sleep around, even before Joseph. Being that vulnerable to someone who’s still a stranger never appealed to me. Not when I saw so much as a police officer. So this whole situation is uncharted territory. The entire experience new and crazy and terrifying. I'm not even on Earth anymore, which is difficult enough to wrap my head around.

I'm shaken out of my thought spiral as we reach the crowded marketplace and I realize we're drawing more attention than when I was on my own. Following Drevakin through the crowd, people part to give way as soon as they see his intimidating figure. His expression, coupled with his massive size, is enough for people to give him a wide berth. Drevakin isn't just taller than the crowd, he's also more muscled, his frame heavier and stronger.

His markedly practical clothes in neutral browns and grays are more serious and somewhat menacing against the backdrop of the more colorful and flamboyant styles favored by the people of House Ti'ana. I guess the silver lining is that we make the trip back in about half the time it took me to do it alone.

Drevakin makes his way to the House Mansion without faltering, his steps confident and sure. He's familiar with the route and the ultimate location. When we enter the courtyard, a few people linger there and I know immediately that I've made at least one cultural mistake.

Their eyes widen at Drevakin, but almost bulge right out of their heads when they see I've come with him. One servant scurries away and slips inside.

I'm being ratted out. So much for not wanting to make a big deal about visiting the village.

"Uh, I will open the door," I say nervously, mostly in English, as Drevakin comes to an abrupt stop.

He looks over at me for the first time since we left the bath house, his eyes guarded. The ultimate poker face, like I'm a complete stranger. Like I didn’t just get off with him and he wasn’t hard as a rock, his hands demanding, his mouth hot and insistent against mine.

He hesitates and there’s a flicker of something in his eyes. But he nods, his face once again that hard mask. I need to get a grip on myself. This isn't me. I try to get a hold of my emotions as I skirt around and go to the door, opening it and stepping inside. I'm racking my brain to figure out the least awkward way to say goodbye to Drevakin when footsteps approach. My heart drops as I look to the side and find Rathorin.

The servant I saw slip in a minute earlier is lurking in the shadows, his eyes watchful. I step back, farther away from the door as Rathorin strides over. He glances at me, his eyes calculating, but then his attention is on Drevakin.

"Prince Drevakin?" he asks. There is a definite mocking quality to the way he says Drevakin's name and title.

I thought the girl in the alley called him a prince, but I forgot, probably because of the violence.

Or the orgasm.

You know what, I give myself a break for forgetting Drevakin's title.

What's more interesting is the interplay between Rathorin and Drevakin. By the looks on both of their faces, there's no love lost there.

I get an inkling for another reason Drevakin may have shut down when he realized where I’m staying and who I’m here for. He stares back at Rathorin, uncowed, even though he's literally in Rathorin's House, surrounded by the other prince’s people.

I also realize that Drevakin is slightly taller than Rathorin now that they're standing side by side, though they're otherwise matched. Not that my body cares. There's just something about Drevakin that I'm drawn to, both physically and in general. It was just easy to be around him. Before he withdrew. And even now, I have to admit I'm drawn to him despite the cold front.

I can't drum up the same desire for Rathorin, even when I know he's objectively just as physically attractive. What a disaster.

Rathorin's eyes flicker to me before returning to Drevakin.

The two have a fast, heated exchange in Alvan.

Too fast for me to understand most of it but I get the impression Rathorin’s people have done something terrible to Drevakin’s. There isn't an ounce of give in Rathorin’s demeanor, not a glimmer of empathy for Drevakin or his people. Drevakin's jaw clenches, but he bites his tongue. He glances over at me. Am I imagining that his face softens a little?

It doesn't matter.

In the next instant, he turns and leaves without a second glance back, refusing to respond to further. Rathorin steps forward and closes the front door, the lock click is loud in the now silent entryway.

It’s like a trap has been shut.