The Bound (Ascension #2)(42)

All three men snapped their heads over to Dean, who stepped aside so that they could get a look at Cyrene.

“If you three would bring the buck into the city and deposit it with the butcher to be distributed at the shelter, I will be on my way.”

Cyrene’s eyes went wide at his statement. He is actually going to give it away, as I had suggested?

The other men seemed to find this strange as well, and she could hardly blame them.

“You can’t go gallivanting off alone,” the first man said.

“What would your father say?” the second asked.

“Now, wait one minute!” the third cried indignantly.

“I will hardly be in harm’s way by escorting her back into the city,” Dean said.

Cyrene glared at all of them. “I do not need to be escorted anywhere. I am perfectly capable of walking around on my own two legs.”

All the men stared at her.

Oh, right. Aurum women never speak this way.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” she said, backing up. Dean reached for her again, but she avoided him. “I’m going.”

“I just want to help.”

His eyes were so earnest and sincere that she actually felt her walls crumbling. She had a hard time trusting anyone, but in that moment, she trusted her gut to get her through this, as she had so many other times.

“Okay.”

At her acceptance, he nodded firmly with a small smile creeping onto his features.

Dean whistled and his horse trotted over to him, like a properly trained steed. Cyrene stepped up to the side of the horse, and Dean lifted her into the saddle. He did it so easily that she might as well have weighed nothing. Dean swung up into the seat behind her, and she tensed as he slid his hands on either side of her waist to grip the reins.

“Dean,” the first man said. His voice was both irritated and coercive.

“Not now, Darmian.” Dean wheeled the horse around, and Cyrene had to tighten her grip at the sharp turn.

“Faylon and Clym can bring back the animal,” Darmian said. His point was clear—that he should go with Dean.

“Are you going to insist?”

“I’m afraid I must,” Darmian said.

“Come along then.”

Dean set out, whipping past Darmian to take the lead. “Am I right in believing that you are staying in the city?” he asked.

“Yes, at the present moment.”

They trotted along for a few moments before Dean spoke again, “I thought there was an elaborate celebration for the Eos holiday in Byern. Is it not the day of your independence?”

Cyrene nearly choked out a gasp. So, he had known all along that she was not Aurumian.

“It is,” she said, deciding to go along with it, “but I’ve been out of Byern for some time now. I will be spending the Eos holiday elsewhere this year.”

“Here in Aurum?”

“Perhaps.”

“I heard a rumor that there is a grand ball to be held at the end of this week for a Byern Prince who is in town, visiting his sister. Are you to attend?”

Cyrene laughed. “Do you take me for First Class? I had not even heard there was to be a ball.”

She was glad that he could not see her face. She was not sure she could lie so easily to his face.

“My apologies. I do not always understand how your Class system works.”

It was quite simple, but she had grown up with the Class system. As Orden had said, Aurum customs seemed foreign to her because she was a foreigner. Byern’s customs must feel the same way to others who were not from there. She just hoped that not everyone thought so little of Byern citizens. Dean, at least, didn’t seem opposed to speaking with her just because of her background. Maybe he would treat her differently if he knew she was an Affiliate.

When she didn’t respond, Dean continued, “I do not have plans to be in Aurum for much longer. I am here, visiting a friend of my father’s, for a short time, but I must return home soon. The family business is in need of me. I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course,” she said simply.

She wondered what his father did. His friends had acted as if his father would wring his neck for wandering off alone.

“Can I call on you while I’m still here?” he asked, interrupting her thoughts.

“Call on me?” Surely, she had heard him wrong.

“Yes. I’d like to see you again. Court you,” he clarified so that she couldn’t mistake his intentions.

“I-I’m sorry. I don’t even know you.”

“But I’d like to get to know you.”

It was too bad that all the circumstances were wrong. He likely thought she was some Third Class merchant’s daughter, out for the holiday season. And she could never tell him the truth—that she was an Affiliate with magical powers, on the run from her country to seek two women, who each had to be two thousand years old, to answer her questions. Courting seemed like the absolute worst thing that could happen right now.

“I’m not sure that is a good idea,” she said softly. “How long are you even going to be in the city?”

“My ship departs in a week.”

“We’re from different worlds, in different places, and in a week’s time, we’ll likely never see each other again. You are offering something that can never be. Now, please, stop. This is far enough. I can walk the rest of the way myself.”