Chapter Nine — Lanterns and Lies
Her eyes narrowed, but there was a sparkle in them.
"One day, thief, I'm going to make you regret every one of these comments."
Kairo lifted his cup, smirking. "And I look forward to it. Keeps life interesting."
Lyren rolled her eyes, but the faint red at the tips of her ears gave her away. She tore off a small piece of bread and — after a suspiciously long pause — flicked it across the table toward him.
It bounced off his chest and landed in his lap.
Kairo picked it up slowly, with exaggerated reverence, and whispered, "A peace offering… I'll cherish this crumb forever."
She couldn't help it — a giggle escaped.
"Hah. Cherish it *until* you drop it in the dirt, which you will."
Outside the tavern's foggy window, paper lanterns drifted upward into the night, their golden light reflected in the Tear's surface — still tucked safely in Kairo's pouch. The gentle glow cast warm shadows over the small table, softening the edges of both their guarded hearts.
For a moment, it wasn't about stolen artifacts, danger, or running from mercenaries.
It was just two mismatched companions sharing bread under lantern light, trading jokes that had more meaning than either dared admit aloud.
Lyren leaned back, watching another lantern vanish into the stars, her voice quiet:
"You know… I don't actually *hate* having you around."
Kairo, pretending to look wounded, pressed a hand to his heart. "I'll add that to my list of greatest achievements. Right below 'stole the Dragon's Tear and survived.'"
She laughed softly, shaking her head. "Idiot…"
And though the war outside their little corner of the world still brewed…
…for tonight, things felt safe. Warm. Almost like home.