“Oh, this is too much!”

Taking the warm bundle of syrup bread from the lady’s weathered hands, Amon gave a generous handful of gold coins. With two young children clinging to her side — both sucking their thumbs and staring at him with wide, hungry eyes — the mother of two beamed with abundant relief and hesitation.

“It’s well-deserved,” Amon simply said.

She accepted her payment with parted lips. As he quickly bid the small family farewell, Jovine watched it all with soft eyes.

For a good hour, they had roamed the nearest town market. Crowded with hustling bodies and tireless vendors, it was overwhelming to hear the desperate shouts of families bartering or feeling the tension that permeated the air. But, Amon had firmly led her through the commotion, and she had seen the compassion he undeniably held.

Looking down at the countless sacks of varied goods he held from struggling peddlers they encountered, she recalled his gentle generosity. Whether it showed from his familiarity with the townspeople or his determination to offer as much of his support as he could, it was as if he couldn’t bear to not scratch the surface. From stale sweets to rusted accessories, it was apparent he couldn’t help himself when he was pulled to relieve a bit of the pain that festered in the Empire. Without needing a single word, Jovine got a glimpse into the character of who Amon vel Feyras was. Or who he showed himself as.

From her faded memories and the blurred encounters she could barely muster, all that had remained when she thought of the Grand Duke was a man that exuded power, danger, and strength. He was a reckless flirt and shamelessly cryptic, as if he was always looking for a reaction. But in that courtyard of his humble lodge, with his hair loose and all formalities forgotten, Amon vel Feyras was…a surprise.

He was easy, with a disarming nature that made her defenses falter. Even now, as he handed her a wrapped portion of sweet bread, he had an effortless smile. Along with the way his ears turned red from the heat or his constant shifting eyes, it was almost endearing. Stripped of all their pretenses and decorum, it felt far from a conventional meeting between an Empress and her Grand Duke.

If she was different and fate had been simpler, she could imagine Amon vel Feyras as the boy next door. Someone who chased her through the forests when they were young or a friend she could walk to the markets with everyday, as they were doing right now. She could see him as comfort. And warmth.

If things were different, she could have just been a girl with a man that had silver hair.

“Do I have something on my face?” His voice splintered her mindless wander.

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“Pardon?”

He chuckled as he gently grasped her elbow to help her evade a group of men passing by. “You’re looking at me strangely.”

“Oh.” She looked away, embarrassed. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to.”

“If you’d like, we can stop somewhere more settled and you can look at me as much as you want.”

There he went again. Shamelessly teasing her. “There’s no need for that.”

He hummed in feigned disappointment, and she smiled.

Looking at her untouched bread, he continued, “You must be hungry. I know it’s not much, but it tastes quite good.”

Jovine peered down at the small circular bread drowned in sticky syrup. From the way she had been distancing herself to watch him, it most likely seemed like the whole ordeal was beneath her. As if her people’s destitution couldn’t touch her air of regality. She couldn’t blame him if he saw her as just another ignorant noble or an Empress who valued the taste of the seven-course meals her Palace Chef forged than a modest morsel of her people’s labor.

But, she had wanted to see who he was. Without any charades or manipulation, without the cold calculation the Emperor had weaponized to blind her, she needed to see him. Just as he was. Without interference that could inspire false kindness to impress her. Yet, her distance could be misunderstood.

Taking a sizable bite of her portion, she ardently chewed. She noticed chunks of potatoes snuck into the mixture to make the batter thicker — indications of how most families were resorting to cheaper staples — and a bitter sense of guilt accompanied the sweet taste as she swallowed.

“It’s delicious,” she said, looking at the Grand Duke with a subtle smile.

Amon looked pleased as he took a chunk of his own portion.

“Is this how you imagined it?” he asked as they ambled through a quieter part of town. “A day with me dragging you all over town,” he added with a smile in his voice. But, Jovine heard the confusion.

“Yes,” she simply answered. “It would have made better sense for me to show you, but it seems you know the cities better than I do, Grand Duke Amon.”

“Amon,” he corrected. “I ask for your familiarity, Your Majesty.”

Jovine raised her brows. It was against Imperial Protocol to drop formalities. Yet, what was she doing here? Everything she meant to come out of this day was treachery against the Crown. “Only if you’ll call me Jovine,” she countered.

“Agreed,” he smirked. “Jovine.”

“My goodness, you’re bold,” she chuckled, unable to hold back her amusement.

“I’d say we’re on a very productive track. By the end of today, we might very well part as friends.”

“Is that what you’d like? For us to be friends.”

“Absolutely,” he replied immediately, as if the answer was obvious. “Hiding behind trees, journeying through markets…wouldn’t you say we’re quite there already?”

Jovine sucked in her cheeks, looking towards the radiant sun and attempting to hold back a smile when she heard the tease in his tone. “Very well, Amon,” she conceded.

I hope you’ll feel the same by the end of all this.

“Then are you open to another venture with me?”

Jovine glanced at him. Those golden eyes of his were lit up in gratification, and a hint of mischief touched his lips. If there’s one thing she found, it was that Amon vel Feyras was an easy man to like.

Jovine nodded. "I don't see why not."