Chapter 206: He Could Keep His Gifts

Dove watched Ash through the new window and decided she was not letting him ruin the glass before she had enjoyed it for a full day. He stood across the street with a small wooden box beneath one arm, wearing the security band as though somebody had pinned a good reason for being there directly to his sleeve.

"We’re going out the back," she said.

Edrik glanced over her shoulder. "I’d rather use the front."

"I know. That’s why we’re using the back."

Thorne took their empty food containers while she fetched the bag for dinner. They crossed the shared yard, passed the restaurant kitchen, and came out on the next street. The smell of frying onions reached her before she saw the cook handing covered meals through the side window. She nearly laughed with relief. Escaping an uncomfortable conversation should not feel like a successful prison break.

"Extra rice," she told the cook. "I’m feeding two men and whatever bad ideas they’re growing."

Edrik put his hand at her waist. "Mine grow very well around you."

"Behave until I’ve paid."

"You keep giving me such short goals."

Thorne laughed, and she leaned into him while the cook filled their containers. She wanted more of this. Walking out for food, choosing a different street because it looked interesting, stopping to look at somebody’s ridiculous hat. She had survived dying and freezing; surely she could have an evening that didn’t revolve around Ash wanting something.

They turned toward the little produce stand beside the repair shops. Dove wanted fresh tomatoes for breakfast. A trader was cutting a bruised spot off one to show the sound flesh beneath, and she was deciding how many they could finish when the conversations behind her faded.

She didn’t need to turn around to know who had arrived.

"Dove. I brought you something."

Her stomach tightened. She picked up another tomato and checked its skin.

"Put it away," Edrik said.

Ash came far enough into view for her to see the box. Inside lay a pair of silver-colored bracelets, identical down to the little twisted ends. He took one out, holding it between fingers that had bruised Edrik’s cheek three days earlier.

"I made the second. You don’t need to wait for traders to find things for you."

Dove put the tomato down carefully. There it was again, the assumption that she had been waiting for him to supply whatever her life lacked. She wanted to take both bracelets and throw them over the roof, but the trader was already trying to hide his best produce.

"I don’t want them."

Ash’s face went still. "Keep them anyway."

"You heard her," Thorne said.

For a moment Ash looked ready to argue with him instead, as though Dove’s answer became easier to ignore if he blamed another man for it. She stepped beside Thorne before that could happen.

"I picked out this necklace with someone who actually listened to me," she said, touching the blue stone at her throat. "You don’t get to turn up with something shiny and pretend the rest didn’t happen."

Ash stared at the necklace, then at Edrik. The box lid cracked under his thumb.

"I joined the guard. I’ll keep this district safe. You’ll be safe."

"Then stop making me change streets to avoid you. I was happy five minutes ago, Ash. You ruined that all by yourself. Move."

He didn’t. His gaze had fixed on her face with an intensity that made her want to step back, and she hated that familiar urge. She had been laughing a minute ago. She had been thinking about tomatoes.

The words landed harder than she expected. Ash lowered the box. For one brief second she thought he might finally understand, and then his free hand lifted toward her cheek.

Thorne hit him before it reached her.

It was one hard blow, followed by a shove that put Ash against the repair-shop wall. Edrik was beside him at once, keeping Dove clear while his hand closed around Ash’s wrist. The bracelets struck the pavement.

"She told you to leave her alone," Thorne said. His voice wasn’t loud, and that made Dove listen harder. "You don’t touch her because you dislike the answer."

Ash caught Thorne’s shoulder and tried to push him back. Thorne held his ground. Edrik tightened his grip, and the dragon’s attention snapped toward him.

"Both of us," Edrik said, smiling without warmth. "Every time. Remember that."

A guard came running from the corner, calling Ash’s name. He took in the broken box, the frightened trader, and Dove standing between her dinner and three men who looked ready to tear up the street.

"Your patrol is at the freight gate," he told Ash. "Come on."

Dove didn’t wait to hear an excuse. She picked up her bag, told the trader she would buy the tomatoes another day, and held out her hand to Thorne. Edrik released Ash when they were moving, then fell into step on her other side.

They took the long way home. She chose it herself, turning down the busy street with the bakery and the water station, where she could hear ordinary complaints about the heat. Ash didn’t follow them there.

"I’m tired of him taking the nice parts," she said at last.

Thorne squeezed her hand. Edrik looked back once, his expression promising something she didn’t want to deal with before dinner.

"Look at me instead," she told him.

He did, immediately. She pulled him down by his shirt and kissed the unbruised side of his face. Then she kissed Thorne too, because she wanted to and because nobody was making her choose whose hand to hold afterward.

"We’re eating while it’s hot," she said. "Then you’re both staying close."

Edrik’s smile returned slowly. "That part won’t be difficult, sweetheart."

Cal was waiting beside their closed sign when they reached the shop. A broken loading ramp had stranded a crew at the equipment stop, blocking the bay Cal needed for his delivery. He knew of a nearby supply building that might hold a replacement, but somebody needed to search it before tomorrow’s departure.

Dove set the dinner down. "Did the ramp break under a load?"

Cal shook his head. "It wasn’t carrying anything. Someone cut through it."