“So,” Kavil said casually, “do you mind if I pester you with a few questions while we wait for the pig to roast through?”

  Sulaiman looked amused as he said, “I suppose, but you’ll have to suffer a few of my own in return.”

  “Deal!” Kavil said, reaching out his hand to shake on it. “You can go first if you’d like.” That earned him a snort of amusement and a small smile as Sulaiman shook his hand. Sulaiman’s hands were rougher than Kavil’s and broader too, and Kavil wondered if that were the type of hands that someone needed to be an effective swordsman.

  “How long have you had those healing abilities of yours?” Sulaiman asked as his fingers slid away from Kavil’s.

  It was an obvious question and Kavil should have expected it, but he was caught a little off guard. But he composed himself easily, straightening his back.

  “I’ve been able to heal others for about as long as I can remember,” Kavil said, fuzzy memories of the short time he had with his parents coming to his mind, “though I started out mostly with small animals like squirrels and rabbits. It wasn’t until my parents died and I started living with Aunt Jeroinin that I started healing larger creatures like livestock and deer.”

  Sulaiman stiffened, looking away from Kavil. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories…”

  “It’s alright,” Kavil said, bumping Sulaiman’s knee with his own to get the other man to look back at him. “It was a long time ago, and while I won’t say I’m happy they died, I’m glad that I was raised by my aunt and got the chance to grow up here. My parents had been traveling healers, so before they died, I didn’t really have a place to call home. Auntie took me in when I had no one else and for that I’ll forever be grateful.

  “But you asked me about my healing abilities, not my parents or my aunt,” Kavil said, pivoting topics as smoothly as he could. “Once I had a handle on healing large animals, I was given the chance to practice on people. I started off with small scrapes to practice but by the time I was fifteen, I’ve been able to reliably heal just about any injury that’s put in front of me as long as it’s not life-threatening. But I’ve been getting better at healing injuries like that as well, though it takes a lot out of me.

  “I’m still working on healing illnesses,” Kavil admitted, “but I can make a common cold pass in just a day!”

  Sulaiman blinked.

  “How old are you now?” Sulaiman asked.

  “I turned eighteen three months ago,” Kavil said. “And you?”

  “I’m nineteen.”

  “We’re just a year apart then!” Kavil said. Kavil couldn’t help but glance toward where Priscilla was as he wondered how old she was. She was sitting with Yarnon, Marian, Kayir, and his aunt with the troublesome twins probably up to no good nearby. Priscilla was laughing, throwing her head back in a way that made her red hair fall like a wave around her face.

  “Priscilla’s twenty, if you were wondering,” Sulaiman said, sounding amused and Kavil realized he got caught staring. Kavil was just glad his skin was dark enough that when he blushed others couldn’t see it.

  “It’s nice having others my age around,” Kavil said, trying to play it as cool as he could. “Everyone else is either so much older than me or they’re a child.”

  Sulaiman hummed in acknowledgement.

  “When did you start training with the sword?” Kavil asked, wanting to get away from the awkward moment and finally learn what he wanted to know all along.

  Sulaiman took in a deep breath and let it slowly out, like the question was more difficult to answer than Kavil thought it would be.

  “I first picked up a blade when I was four,” Sulaiman said in that slow way of his, like he was reluctant to part with the words that left his mouth, “but I didn’t start learning any proper technique until I was seven. An adventurer came by the orphanage and gave all of us some lessons out of charity or pity. But I had a knack for it, and it was one of the few things I could spend my time on, so I saved what I could to buy a basic book on swordsmanship.”

  Sulaiman smiled, the expression small but true. “Of course, I only had shoddy wooden blades to practice with until I was eight and I met Illnyea while she was volunteering with her mother. She convinced her parents to let us train with their guards and they taught us how to properly wield a blade.”

  “Who’s Illnyea?” Kavil asked, scooting closer. Though Kavil hadn’t known Sulaiman long, he could still hear the way the other man’s voice softened when this mysterious woman was brought up, like he was recalling a pleasant memory.

  “Priscilla’s younger sister,” Sulaiman said and Kavil perked up.

  “What’s Illnyea like?”

  “She’s nothing like Priscilla,” Sulaiman said, the words coming out quickly. But then he paused, a conflicted expression flashing over his face that made Kavil curious.

  “Well, they look nothing alike,” Sulaiman said, his gaze drifting to where Priscilla was, “but they’re both stubborn and determined. Once they set their mind on something, there’s little you can do to stop either of them. Illnyea leads with her heart, while Priscilla is more likely to lead with a curse word.”

  Kavil chuckled, saying, “They must be a terror when they put their heads together.”

  Sulaiman didn’t say anything and just kept staring at Priscilla with a thoughtful frown. Kavil waited several long moments for a response before realizing he probably wasn’t going to get one, which was disappointing but not surprising given Sulaiman’s reticent nature. So Kavil would just have to attack with a different question.

  “What was the journey here like?” Kavil asked. “I don’t know where you’re from but I imagine it’s pretty far considering we’re hidden away.”

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  That pulled Sulaiman’s attention back to Kavil.

  “It’s a week’s travel from Meadowyar,” Sulaiman said, “and while it wasn’t action packed, there were a few highlights…”

  Kavil listened with bated breath as Sulaiman detailed how they were ambushed by a giant toad on the road (which was wild to imagine since the only toads Kavil had encountered were the size of his palm). Sulaiman wasn’t the best storyteller but he included little details like the smell of the poison and the sound of metal tearing beneath the toad’s claws that made the scene come to life.

  By the time Sulaiman finished telling Kavil of what Grazda was like (one day Kavil would have to bathe in the hot springs), the pig had been fully roasted and Holly had hauled the carcass to a table to start serving everyone.

  Kavil and Sulaiman grabbed several slices and Kavil piled Sulaiman’s plate high with all of Kavil’s favorite snacks before he led them to a table. When they sat down, it seemed Sulaiman was done talking about himself and just asked Kavil questions, which was perfectly fine with Kavil because he loved to talk. Talking kept his mind off things he didn’t want to think about.

  (Like how he might be rejected and left staring at the backs of people he wished so desperately to be with -- no, Kavil, bad thoughts need to be banished. Focus on telling Sulaiman about the time you got stuck in a tree and had to charm the birds to send for help.)

  They had just finished their plates when Priscilla sauntered over with two bowls balanced on a plate in her hand, a smile tugging at her full lips, and a flush across her cheeks. Kavil tried to not stare but he couldn’t deny she looked fetching in the fire light.

  “Sulaiman,” Priscilla called, stretching out his name like it was her favorite song, “I have something you’ll like.”

  Sulaiman gave her a flat look, and she laughed, throwing her head back like he had said a joke instead.

  “Trust meee,” Priscilla said, voice still sing-songy as she slid onto a seat between Sulaiman and Kavil, “you won’t regret it.”

  She slid one of the bowls in front of Sulaiman, green eyes dancing with mirth as the man looked down at it with suspicion.

  Kavil finally saw what was in the bowls and lit up. He knew that Yarnon had pulled out his big pot and hoped they were making the rice pudding, but Kavil hadn’t been sure until this moment. There were even a few berries and a dusting of cinnamon in each of the bowls.

  “Is one of those for me?” Kavil asked, giving Priscilla a cheeky smile. “Or are you going to be mean and eat it in front of me?”

  Priscilla’s smile curved up into something mischievous.

  “It can be yours, savior,” Priscilla said, leaning forward, “but you’re going to have to pay the price.”

  “And that is?” Kavil leaned in as well, drawn in by Priscilla’s gravitational pull. (Not that he even wanted to resist when she looked at him like that, calling him her savior as if it was only natural.)

  “I want a hug,” Priscilla said, which took Kavil momentarily off guard. “A real fucking hug where I feel like I’m about to be squished to death.”

  That startled a laugh out of Kavil.

  “As your healer, I don’t think I can condone a hug that strong,” Kavil said, mockingly serious, “but, alas, I do want this pudding, so it seems I must go against my own orders.”

  When Kavil had hugged Priscilla and Sulaiman earlier, it had been a desperate, awkward hug to try and express everything he felt towards them that words could not convey. But this time, Kavil was fully in control (and the grief had been mitigated with the knowledge that Frean’s soul had rejoined with the party he had always yearned for long after their deaths).

  It was awkward to maneuver around the sling but Priscilla didn’t seem to care, carelessly lurching forward to wrap an arm around Kavil’s waist and lay her head on his shoulder. Kavil hugged back as firm as he dared because despite his big words, he really didn’t think that Priscilla’s shoulder needed any excess strain on it.

  “I looooove hugs,” Priscilla murmured into Kavil’s neck and that was when Kavil realized that Priscilla was properly drunk. Auntie probably got her another cup and had the bottle nearby, so there was no telling how many glasses Priscilla had drank of the elven wine.

  “I love hugs too,” Kavil said and saw over Priscilla’s shoulder that Sulaiman was staring at them like he didn’t know what to make of them.

  Mischief danced in Kavil as he smiled and said, “Sulaiman, you should join. You have to pay for your bowl too.”

  Priscilla chuckled, the sound reverberating against Kavil’s skin.

  “‘laiman don’t like hugs,” Priscilla mumbled. “He thinks he’s tooooooo cool.”

  Kavil had to hold back laughter at the offended look on Sulaiman’s face and that was mainly because Kavil was worrying about jostling Priscilla’s shoulder more than necessary.

  “He’s missing out,” Kavil said, only taunting the other man a little because it was kinda fun.

  Sulaiman turned his glare to Kavil, and Kavil just smiled, letting his thoughts show plainly on his face. If Sulaiman didn’t want to hear them talk about it anymore, he knew what he had to do.

  Priscilla murmured, “You give really good hugs, Kavil.”

  Sulaiman stared at him with exasperation, before sighing heavily. Sulaiman’s face made it clear just how much he didn’t want to be doing this, but he leaned over to briefly wrap his arms around the pair, so briefly Kavil barely felt any pressure, before pulling away. The other man gave Kavil a flat stare that said he would not be doing it again.

  Priscilla pulled away from Kavil to stare at Sulaiman before bursting into helpless giggles.

  “Kavil,” Priscilla said, “Kavil you have to ask Sulaiman to do things more often. He’s so obedient when you ask.”

  Sulaiman sighed again, as if he was a martyr, and began eating the pudding Priscilla brought over. He paused when he tasted it, giving the bowl an appreciative glance.

  “So, do you like it?” Kavil asked as Priscilla rested her head on his shoulder, apparently done with sitting up straight.

  “It’s okay,” Sulaiman said, though the way he quickly took another bite betrayed his true thoughts. But Kavil chose to let the other man keep his dignity and didn’t call him out, choosing to dig into his own bowl.

  Alas, Kavil’s private time with Priscilla and Sulaiman came to a swift end as Allasan wandered over and plopped herself down at the table without even asking. Allasan had a large orange tomcat in her arms who meowed unhappily.

  “Oooh,” Priscilla said, straightening. “Who is this handsome fella?”

  “This is Huckleberry,” Allasan said, “and his favorite pastime is being a menace.”

  “Sounds like my kind of cat,” Priscilla said, reaching forward to scratch Huckleberry’s ears.

  Kavil inwardly sighed at being interrupted again but didn’t voice his complaints as Priscilla began excitedly chatting with Allasan about Huckleberry, cooing over the cat.

  He’d have plenty of time to spend with Priscilla and Sulaiman tomorrow, so Kavil supposed he could share them tonight.