The murmur rising. The questions multiplying. The confused, entertained, mildly scandalized noise of a crowd that had come for a ceremony and received something more interesting.
Edric watched his wife being kissed by another man in front of his district while soldiers held his arms.
His son, beside him, had finished the bun.
Was watching.
"Father," the boy said, in the flat, observational tone of a child reporting something. "That man is kissing mother."
Edric said nothing.
His teeth were pressed so hard together that the sound of it was audible only to himself.
Viktor pulled back from the kiss.
His teeth caught Helviana's lower lip on the way — the deliberate drag of teeth across her lip as he withdrew, her head following his mouth for one involuntary half-inch before catching herself.
Her eyes were closed.
She opened them.
Tears on her face.
