Chapter 2
Fadil taught me how to hold a sword, how to place my feet so I wouldn’t stumble, how to face and react to a foe. We mirrored each other, footwork exploring an intricate and ever-changing dance. My heart fluttered; the warm, golden light bloomed brighter each day in Fadil. After practice, we’d walk to the fountain in the courtyard, talking and drinking our fill of clear water.
“Chisisi.” Night had fallen; we had talked through the evening. Fadil had brought a sack filled with meat pies and dried fruits, which we ate while wandering the city. I could almost taste the treasure, sun-bright and sweet, a gift for me, me alone. He paused beneath an ancient sycamore. I met his gaze.
He pressed his lips against mine in the dark, the taste of figs and pie crust and him, overwhelming me.
