Prince of Traitors

Jasper

Rahmi finds a spot by the fire for us to sit and eat, moving three stools next to each other with one hand as he holds his plate of food in the other. Owin and I sit beside him near the fire as the three of us eat. The meal is hot and savoury, and we fall into silence for several minutes.

Rahmi is all sharp angles and wide, toothy grins. His hair is a mess of black curls, his eyes the sparkling turquoise of gemstones. His pointed ears are pierced along the cartilage, a small chunk missing from the upper ridge of one. He's handsome and charming. The only one who doesn't seem enamored with him is Owin.

I glance at her and catch her small smirk as Rahmi scoops a bite of rice into his mouth.. His turquoise eyes rake over me, where the collar of my shirt falls open, exposing the column of my neck and ridges of my collarbones. The chain around my neck glints in the firelight, the rings hidden from view under my shirt. Rahmi's own shirt is unlaced and open almost down to his navel, his brown chest dotted with dark hairs.

"Where did you say you were from?" I ask him between bites of food.

"All over. Born in Cronas, lived in Taja for a while. Grew up all over the place."

"What brought you here to Odrend?"

He shrugs. "Same as anyone else, I suppose," he says. "Wanted to see something new. I find I adore the local flavor." He raises one thick, dark eyebrow at me. His smile crinkles the corners of his eyes, half-lidded like a lazy cat as he looks at me.

"Oh?" My voice is soft. Rahmi grins at me.

Beside me, Owin rolls her eyes.

If Rahmi notices, he doesn't comment on it. He only smiles suggestively. "I hope you're repaying our dear friend," he says to Owin. "Reading lessons can't come cheap."

Owin shrugs. "He owes me. Dear friend or otherwise."

Rahmi laughs brightly, and earns a small chuckle from Owin.

From one of the carts around the fire, someone calls for Rahmi. He groans and begrudgingly gets up from his stool. He sets his food down on the seat. "Pardon me, darlings," he says. He saunters off, away from our little circle of stools to the merchant woman who called him.

Owin huffs a small laugh when he's gone. "Forward, isn't he?"

I chuckle. "I don't mind. He's handsome; I can't say I'm not interested in him."

Owin looks at me, her plate of food perched on her knee. "Wait... seriously?"

I meet her gaze and nod, finishing my bite of food. "Mm-hmm, I like both men and women," I say. I laugh at her incredulous expression and shrug a little. "I don't try to hide it."

"I just—never knew," she says.

"It's not like we've met many people since we left the city," I say. "Besides, my father wouldn't have allowed it anyway. No natural heirs."

"Right," she says.

"Not that I've ever been able to explore it," I add. "I never cared to go to the pleasure houses or anything like that."

She raises an inquisitive eyebrow. "So you've never...?"

I give her a suspicious look. "Why? Are you trying to corrupt me, Navaarim?"

She rolls her eyes and flips me her middle finger. "You wish." She's about to say something else, but Rahmi returns and scoops up his food, already chattering away.