[Lavinia's POV – Festival of Flames]
Gods above, someone please tell Osric to relax before he glares a hole through the next fruit seller.
Seriously.
He didn't look like a protector right now.
He looked like a demon—an overgrown, brooding, six-foot menace dressed in a plain robe—staring daggers at every single soul who so much as breathed near me.
You'd think I was made of stardust and national secrets the way he hovered.
And I do mean hovered.
He was so close to me that we could probably be mistaken for lovers strolling through the city on a forbidden date. Not that kind of tender, poetry-reading lover either—no, the jealous boyfriend who once stabbed a guy for looking too long kind.
And to make things worse? Solena, glowing on his shoulder like a literal divine feathered beast, made us about as subtle as a comet crashing through a dinner party.
