Oh gods, hopefully he hadn’t hurt her. “Ezaara, are you all right?”
Driving her sword under his arm, Ezaara tapped his shirt. “I did it!” she cried, leaping to her feet. “I beat you.”
Whistles and yells erupted around them. She’d fooled him, but it was a fair win.
“Go, Ezaara!” Lofty called.
She was beaming.
Maybe Lofty’s strategy, whatever it was, would work today.
Tomaaz glanced toward the baker’s stand. Beatrice wasn’t there. All this for nothing. Oh well, at least they were going for a walk together, later. For now, he had to make Ezaara feel good about her win.
“Aagh, beaten,” he groaned, sheathing his sword, and wiping sweat from his brow.
“You chose to fight me here.” Ezaara’s eyes blazed.
She’d fought well.
Grinning, she stepped back, sliding her sword into her scabbard.
Around them, coppers changed hands. He caught a glimpse of Beatrice on the edge of the crowd, smiling at him. Tomaaz’s chest swelled with pride. She had seen him fight. And it looked as if she was glad for Ezaara’s win, too. Not only was Beatrice beautiful, she was kind-hearted.
Lofty clapped Tomaaz on the back. Then he kissed Ezaara, right on the lips. What? That wasn’t what they’d agreed. The crowd oohed.
Old Bill nudged his way forward and gave Lofty a handful of grimy coppers.
Lofty punched his fist in the air.
That’s what they’d been up to! Rigging the fight to make money. And probably betting Lofty would kiss Ezaara. Lofty hadn’t had a chance to rescue Ezaara because she’d won in her own right, but he’d still embarrassed her. Ezaara would never fall for Lofty like that. Why couldn’t he see it?
Yep, Ezaara’s cheeks were flaming. And not from passion. She was mortified—and as mad as a bear with a toothache.
People scattered as Klaus barreled through the crowd. “Is that those twins again?” With a bellow like an ox, a girth to match a draft horse, and even taller than Lofty, Klaus was the settlement’s arbitrator. “What’s going on?”
“I’m off to get that knife.” Lofty thrust a handful of coppers at Tomaaz and slunk away. Typical—always the first to plan trouble and the last to get blamed for it. But Lofty’s adventurous streak appealed to Tomaaz. No one else here was half as fun.
Beatrice gave Tomaaz a wave and headed back to her pastries.
“Tomaaz! Ezaara!” Klaus faced them off, hands on hips.
Tomaaz pocketed the coins and squared his shoulders. People were staring at them, but he didn’t care. Beatrice had seen him fight. “It’s my fault,” he said. “I challenged Ezaara.”
“In the middle of the marketplace?” Klaus snapped. “You could have taken out a littling’s eye.”
“Our tips were corked and the blades aren’t sharpened,” Ezaara defended. “See?” She passed him her sword.
Klaus ran his thumb and forefinger along Ezaara’s blade. “It doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t—”
“She tricked Tomaaz,” Old Bill called out. “Fighting sneaky, like a dragon rider.”
Why was Bill bringing dragon riders into this? The fool. Any mention of dragons was bound to get Klaus riled up.
Klaus spun on Bill. “If I hear you mention those filthy winged reptiles and their stinking riders again, you’ll be getting acquainted with our jail.”
Bill glowered.
Klaus stabbed his finger on Tomaaz’s chest. “No fighting in the marketplace.”
“Sorry, sir, it won’t happen again.” Tomaaz inclined his head. One day, he’d be free from Klaus’ silly restrictions. One day, he’d see dragons for himself.
“They knocked over my cloth,” Old Bill protested.
“Help Bill tidy up.” Flinging them a stern glare, Klaus strode off.
Old Bill rubbed his hands together. “So, kissed by Lofty, eh?”
Tomaaz stared at Bill in disgust. “I can’t believe you put Lofty up to that. I mean, he’s liked her for ages, and now he’s blown it. There’s no way my sister’s going to like him back now.”
Ezaara rolled her eyes. “Would you two stop talking about me as if I’m not here?”
They’d cheapened Ezaara with those filthy coppers—and she had enough problems with her self-confidence already. Tomaaz tried to make light of it. “Come on, Bill, you should’ve bet Lofty a silver.”
It didn’t work. Ezaara turned her back on him and dumped a roll of cloth on Old Bill’s trestle table. Bill’s daughter, Lovina, ignored them all, her filmy gray eyes examining the frayed stitching on her tattered boots. Boots so fascinating, she’d probably missed the whole sword fight. Tomaaz tossed the remaining bolts on the table and left.
Walking a little straighter as he approached Beatrice’s stand, he winked at her. Despite Klaus’ bollocking, today was shaping up nicely. He passed Beatrice a copper. “I’d like a potato patty, please.” Tomaaz grinned at Beatrice, whose cheeks pinked. Now, that was the way to make a girl blush, not by embarrassing her in front of a crowd.
As he took the patty from Beatrice, their fingers brushed, sending a thrill through him. Tomaaz’s heart thrummed. He was loathe to go, but didn’t have a reason to stay. So, he turned away, biting into his patty, savoring the salty cheese and paprika.
Ezaara was still hanging around the cloth stall. Old Bill was leaning over his trestle table, shoving something into her hands. She glanced around furtively. Then, cradling her palms, she stared down, face full of wonder.
What was he showing her? Bill was very interested in Ezaara today. Tomaaz ground the now tasteless patty between his teeth. One of Bill’s customers bumped Ezaara and she shoved the object back at Bill and hurried away.
Scoffing the last of his patty, Tomaaz rushed after her, but the next moment, Lofty was there.
“Hey, Maaz, look at my knife. It’s a real beauty.”
The handle was bone, carved with interwoven vines. Tomaaz let out a low whistle. “Nice.”
Lofty weighed it in his palm. “And it’s beautifully weighted. Here, try.” Lofty held the knife as
