too much. Crixus pulled on his robe before the effect she had on him was evident to the entire room. "You can have dinner with me, my plum." He offered a hand and helped her out of the pool. "And you can interrogate me further."
"I'll ply you with drink," she said, toweling off. "You'll see spirits then, you skeptic."
* * *
Caparelle's Garden owned a fishing boat whose sole charge was to provide the bulk of the menu. Thus diners at Caparelle's knew the fish on the end of their fork had been swimming in peace through the seas just hours ago. Farms beyond the surrounding hills provided fresh onions, carrots, cabbage, tomatoes, and leeks, served with a broth over hard bread, topped with whitefish. After climbing those hills all day for the sake of rich old fools, Crixus wolfed down his food. Kharrina reached over to pat his stomach before he could get the waitress' attention to order a second helping of fish.
"You're turning into a bear," she said. "Will you settle for fruit?"
He winced. "Fruit? Bears prefer honey or meat."
Kharrina wrinkled her eyes at him. The way her eyelids bunched around her eyes won his heart every time, as if he had been waiting for the sun to rise. "Blackberries. I'll eat them with you."
"We'll forage for berries, then." On her second pass, he caught the waitress and asked for a bowl of blackberries in cream sauce.?
"No sauce," Kharrina called to the woman's retreating back. She turned to wink at Kharrina.
"I can't win," Crixus said, palms in the air.
"You will if you learn to listen to me."
Kharrina scooped up the mixed vegetables in a crust of bread and chomped down. The daughters of tradesmen lacked the social niceties of the elite, who bandied about as if the physical world was undignified. The lower classes, awash in squalor, made no attempt at manners. Tradespeople like Crixus straddled both worlds, although this particular meal did not lend itself to dainty eating. Caramelized onions fell from Kharrina's mouth back onto the plate.
The red wine they drank came from Greater Rond's vineyards, a special treat that Crixus insisted on. He wanted to show Kharrina the refinements the capital city offered. As much as Restia had charmed him, one day he would bring her back to Greater Rond. Yet watching her gnaw through crusty bread, sopping up sauce with the spongy portion, he wondered if she would become one of the pampered trophies that accompanied the Guild masters to their annual balls. In his eyes, Kharrina's beauty took strength from the joy she derived from her life in Restia, whether she was up to her elbows in ink or running barefoot on the beach. Robbed of that vitality, left to live with the memory of it, emptiness would follow. Restia might be the best home for them after all, ambition be damned.
The blackberries arrived without cream sauce, but it wasn't needed. Their sweet tang screwed his face up and gave Kharrina giggling fits. She snaked a hand across the table to sneak a berry.
"One more day together," she mused.?
"Two more nights," he said. She grinned back. "Tomorrow I have one remaining client to visit. A landowner, Ser Cadmis. All he appears to do is purchase buildings."
Kharrina nodded. "Father prints leasing papers for him. He owns a dozen apartment buildings scattered around town."
"Have you met him?"
She shook her head. "Only his secretary. I doubt Cadmis has even seen the leases. It must be nice to have other people earn your money for you."
"Well, you take business where you find it. Do fishermen buy many books?"
She sighed. "No, nor do they order forms or proclamations. But sometimes father prints holy books, land records, important council documents. Those I don't mind printing, since they contribute to the glory of Rond, somehow. Alas," she said and smiled ruefully, hefting her wine, "most of my day is spent on nonsense."
"It will get better. With the new road, the demand for books will increase. New libraries to be stocked, new book buyers coming through town."
"And even more paperwork to print up." The wine glass tilted back and forth, almost spilling. "Forms, forms, forms."
"We have an entire department of scholars at the Guild who sit in a windowless room all day, tracking accounts."
Her eyes crossed. "They must be blind."
"Or consumptive from inhaling nothing but lamp oil smoke."
Crixus fed her a berry. Her lips curved in delight around his fingers. "Good?"
"Hmm hmmm," she said around the blackberry. "Is that what it's like to be rich? Fed by slaves?"
"I'm hardly your slave," he said with mock outrage.?
Kharrina leaned forward until her breath brushed his face. "You say that now
* * *
A sliver of moon slashed through the clouds, illuminating their faces enough to see each other's satisfied smile. Kharrina pressed against Crixus as
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