Tobin hated awkward situations. He hated the uncomfortable silence and the uneasy shifting, and how sweaty his palms became when he was nervous, and this situation was nothing but awkward. Lescelli was stiff-backed beside him. While her hair was styled and pinned up like she was going to a fancy dance, she wore simpler slacks and a buttoned tunic better suited to sailing and had her hands clasped in front of her. While his father had offered them a ride back to the hotel they were staying at, Lescelli had insisted upon walking and now they were making their way up the road in complete silence and Tobin wasn’t sure what to do about it.

He rubbed the back of his neck and whistled through his teeth. “So…Was the trip here-”

“Can it,” Lescilli cut him off.

“Excuse me?” Tobin raised a brow. She had been curt and her tone had been clipped as though she was offended, but so far as Tobin knew, he hadn’t done anything to offend; he’d barely said anything to her.

Lescelli glanced at him with hardened brown eyes and the corners of her lips were pulled into a frown. “Listen, I’m sure you’re swell, really, but I’ve been shoved into far too many of these meet and greet courting rituals with self-absorbed, well-groomed heirs of important men to tolerate yet another one, okay? So unless the next words out of your mouth are the recommendation on a good place to eat, just shut it and walk with me so that I don’t have to hear about it from my father, alright?”

Tobin frowned and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his pants. He understood her frustration; he felt it too, he was just less vocal about it. He didn’t want to marry someone he’d only just met and been forced to court. It wasn’t romantic, it wasn’t flattering, she had every right to be annoyed. But he wasn’t self-absorbed and he took that comment a little personally. He supposed he had to say something. Whether they wanted each other’s company or not, he was still Lescilli’s escort while she was here, and he needed to treat that job with the respect and attention it deserved, regardless of their feelings about the situation.

“I’ve never been to Prewport before personally, but we did pass a bakery on the way down to the docks.”

Lescelli pursed her lips as they continued walking. After a moment she dipped her head and gestured out in front of them. “Alright then, lead the way.”

Tobin kept his hands in his pockets as they walked. The silence was stifling, but Lescelli didn’t seem interested in chatting at all, so he wasn’t sure what to say.

It was Lescelli who finally broke their uncomfortable silence, which surprised him since she was the one who had called for it. “Okay, seriously, what’s your deal?” she demanded with an exasperated sigh.

“What do you mean?”

He watched her roll her eyes. “Why are you so quiet?”

“You’re the one who told me to shut up,” he protested.

“And you listened? That’s honestly a first,” she hummed. “But seriously, usually by this point, the guy’s told me about half his triumphs and feats – as if any of them are meant to be impressive – and made it abundantly clear that it would be the biggest mistake of my life if I didn’t just…fall all over them. But I’ve barely heard a peep out of you and the only thing I know of your few accomplishments is from my father talking you up. You just shy or…?”

Tobin sighed and brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “No, I’m not shy. I just would rather not make you uncomfortable. Believe it or not, this is a less than ideal situation for me too. I’m not thrilled about what our parents are doing. It’s nothing against you personally, you seem interesting, but the concept of an arranged marriage has always left a rotten sensation in my gut. If I married you because it would forge a stronger business and military connection, that offers you no real respect, and it offers me none either.” He glanced at her as he spoke, hoping nothing would offend her. “I mean, I’d like to get to know you, I’ve read a lot of history on the Southern Islands, but I’ve never gotten to go and I think it would be nice to get to talk to someone from there. I just don’t love being pressured to have a ring on your finger by the end of the month.”

Lescelli snerked and shook her head. She tilted her head back to the sky and spread her arms wide. “Oh, the joys of a controlling family,” she declared with a bitter laugh. Her brown eyes twinkled when she finally looked back at him and clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m sorry about your predicament, Tobin, but I’m afraid you’re going to disappoint your father, just as I’m going to disappoint mine. I’m not interested.”

Tobin frowned. She’d started walking more briskly, so he broke into a jog to catch up. “Well hey now, I’m not rushing to court you, but you seem to have made your decision rather fast. You only just met me.”

Lescelli laughed and shrugged. “Look, Tobin, you do seem like a nice guy; at least, an improvement from most of the company my father insists I keep, but I’m afraid the best I can offer is a possible friendship. You’re not my type.”

Tobin nodded. “So much for the plans then,” he commented as they walked.

Lescelli nodded. “Tell you what, this month that you’re expected to spend squiring me? You keep any advances you might be expected to make to yourself. You’re not allowed to pursue me, at all. You do that, we play along otherwise, and at the end of the month, I’ll make sure to rave how much of a gentleman you were and encourage my father to take whatever deal they’re going to cook up and mull over. That should make everyone at least partially happy, deal?”

Tobin winced. His father would be furious if he heard about them rigging such an arrangement, but it also sounded like it was the best he was going to get with Lescelli at this point, and he wasn’t exactly looking for more either. “What about your father? What will he get out of it?”

Lescelli shrugged. “My father won’t be happy until I’m married off and producing the next generation of Rizzetto boys to take over the family business. My dad’s a good businessman and a good general, but a terrible father and kind of a creep. If I had a brother, I’d probably be married already to keep the bloodline pure or whatever,” she muttered. “I’m never going to make him happy, but there’s no reason to drag you down with me. I’m not going to marry you though, no matter what fancy courting tricks you might try to pull, so I’m just trying to spare your time.”

Tobin pursed his lips as they walked. He thought his father was strict on things, but it sounded like Lescelli dealt with quite a bit more pressure. He admired her having the courage to resist her father’s wishes. He wasn’t that brave. After a few paces further down the street, he pulled one of his hands out of his pocket and offered it out to her. “The start of an abnormal friendship sparked by a mutually awkward and uncomfortable situation?”

There was a moment of silence, then Lescelli scoffed, rolled her eyes, and grinned. She slapped her hand into his and gave it a firm shake. “Alright, Tobin,” she agreed. “If that’s what you want to call it, let’s give it a shot. Now, about those promised baked goods? It was a long trip.”

Tobin winced as she released his hand. She had a grip like a vice. He shook his wrist a few times, then forced a grin and nodded. He pointed up the street. “It was just up here, past the flower stalls.”

Lescelli’s eyes gleamed as she smiled back at him. “Well, what are we waiting for then? Back home, there’s a bakery that makes these fresh wildberry scones that are so heavenly they’re worth dying for a bite. Let’s see if this cute little town can compare.”

Tobin shook his head. Lescelli had an attitude and a bunch of raw energy to go with it. Though he would never say it to her face, she reminded him a bit of a forest cat. Moody and aggressive and quick, but also a bit silly and bizarre. It was going to be an interesting month. Deciding to indulge, he bowed low and dramatically before holding out his hand. “Then allow me to escort you, milady?”

Lescelli rolled her eyes and Tobin’s grin widened. “Don’t push your luck,” she shot back, but she took his hand anyway and thankfully did not squeeze as hard this time.

“What?” Tobin protested. “I’m simply doing my job. Squiring a lovely lady around town like a good host; no flirtatious advances involved.”

There was a spark in Lescelli’s eyes that made Tobin’s gut flip with concern as her Chesire grin widened even further. She took a step closer and her grip on his hand began to tighten again until he felt the bones creak. “Tobin, I appreciate that your father is perhaps the most capable and well respected military strategist here in the north and that as his son, you were probably raised quite capable of handling yourself and most weaponry in a fight, but if you ever call me ‘Milady’ again, I will pummel you into the ground right here in the street, are we clear?” she threatened. Her smile never faltered and her tone was light and sweet, like poison coated in candy.

“Definitely a forest cat,” he muttered under his breath.

Lescelli’s grip on his hand tightened and she quirked a brow. “Excuse me?”

“Crystal clear,” Tobin clarified with a cough. “My apologies.”

Lescelli hummed as though she didn’t actually believe him, but she released his hand regardless, and Tobin breathed a sigh of relief as they resumed walking.

It was midday and the portside town was bustling with people walking and various buggies pulled by horses and mules went rolling past them. The sun was warm and Tobin was finding the energy far more pleasant than the tense craze of the city. Here, people were calling friendly greetings and trying to encourage pedestrians to their shops and stalls lined with flowers, foods, and bright knickknacks. It was refreshing.

As they began walking past the flower stalls just beside the bakery, Lescelli paused in front of the middle booth. She was still holding his hand, so it pulled Tobin to a stop as well. She reached out and plucked up a baby blue flower from one of the ceramic pots holding masses of fresh-cut blossoms. It had triangular petals and wide green leaves, and a tiny yellow center.

Lescelli brought it up to her nose and hummed as she smelled it. Tobin wasn’t certain what type of flower it was or why she had been drawn to it, but he was content to wait while she browsed. She lingered with the flower for a minute longer before moving to return it to the pot she had pulled it from.

The man standing in the booth held up a hand to stop her. “Please Miss, keep it and enjoy your stay in our lands.”

Lescelli did stand out as a foreigner, so while it wasn’t glaring, Tobin was not surprised that the shop owner had noticed.

Lescelli smiled and nodded. “Thank you, that’s very kind,” she replied with a polite dip of her head.

The man returned her smile and his salt and pepper mustache quirked up too. He dipped his wide-brimmed straw hat at her. “Have a good day and please come again, both of you,” he urged.

“What kind of flower is that?” Tobin asked as they walked away. Lescelli was still looking at it and twirling the stem gently between her fingers.

“Hmm? Oh, I’m not sure,” she admitted. “It just caught my eye is all. It smells nice though.”

Tobin nodded. He looked at the flower one more time. His curiosity had been piqued and he wanted to look it up later. He also made the note to remember she liked them. He’d promised he wouldn’t court her and didn’t want to regardless, but he had been taught to notice the little details and to remember things about everyone he met, friends, foes, and dignitaries. Lescelli would control her father’s empire one day, and regardless of how this month went, maintaining a pleasant relationship with her would be important.

“We have arrived,” he declared with a dramatic gesture as he grabbed the door and held it open for her. Lescelli regarded him with a quirked brow and rolled her eyes once more. Shaking her head, she strode through the door and Tobin followed at her back. There was a lineup and barely room for them just inside the door and Tobin winced. He hadn’t intended to pick a busy place where they would have to wait. He hoped Lescelli wouldn’t mind too much though, because he didn’t know the town well enough to take them somewhere else. It made him wonder what his father had been thinking. He could have at least allowed Tobin to scout the place before thrusting him into the role of an escort to someone who knew the area even less than he did.

He pursed his lips but tried not to dwell on it. There wasn’t much that he could do about it now and just had to hope it wouldn’t reflect too poorly on him. Lescelli seemed to have a decent understanding of his situation; hopefully, that would be enough for her to forgive a few mistakes.

He glanced around the bakery. There were some more small tables, where a few people were seated with warm beverages to go with their treats, and the counter took up most of the far end. There was a doorway into the back, though Tobin couldn’t see much, and the front display was filled with all sorts of cookies and pastries and loaves of bread that made Tobin’s mouth water.

“This is a cute place,” Lescelli commented. “And it smells divine.”

“Yes it does,” Tobin agreed. The fresh aroma of baked goods was making his stomach rumble greedily. It was obviously noticeable because Lescelli fixed him with a smug, knowing smirk and she chuckled. Tobin felt his face flush and he cleared his throat. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and returned his attention forward.

A woman carrying bags with two long loaves of crunchy bread topped with crumbled nuts slipped past them with a quiet apology, and then the line shuffled forward a little more.

There was a man behind the counter, bustling about pulling loaves or gathering treats from the display into bags and passing them off to the various customers. He worked rather quickly, but when Tobin and Lescelli were halfway through the line, he paused in his rapid efficiency.

“Hey Lanna, can you come up here and take over the front? We’re running low on puff pastries and I have to get the yeast added to the bread batters or they won’t rise in time for tomorrow,” he hollered.

A moment later, a head poked out from around the corner and a girl stepped out from the back. “Sure thing. The next batch of cornbread is out and cooling.”

“Atta girl,” the man praised. He clapped her on the shoulder as he walked past her into the back and the girl stepped up to the counter.

She had dark brown hair that fell just below her shoulders and deep, twinkling blue eyes framed by sun-kissed skin and a dusting of freckles. She was slender, with long arms and a modest figure mostly concealed by the wide apron draped over her form. It was smeared with flour and some sort of jelly, and she had more flour streaked over one cheek.

She smiled brightly at the next customer and set about fulfilling the orders with near as much efficiency as the man before her.

A few in front of them, and a man requested a sack of flour, which Tobin thought was an odd request, but the girl merely smiled and nodded. There was a stack of them visible behind her and Tobin frown as she turned towards them. “There’s no way…” he murmured as he watched her heft it up and turn to drop it with a heavy thump on the counter.

“Well, I’m impressed,” Lescelli agreed. “Doesn’t look like there’s much to her.”

The man who’d asked for it was burlier, so it was no surprise that he paid and lifted the sack onto one shoulder like it was nothing, but Tobin had anticipated the young woman would have had more trouble. That bag of flour looked like it weighed twice as much as she did.

Finally, it was their turn, and the girl’s brilliant white smile was directed at them. “Hello,” she greeted warmly. “What can I get for you today?”

Tobin paused for a moment to consider. “Could I get one of those mini pecan custard pies?” he inquired after a moment. “Lescelli?”

“You have scones?” Lescelli inquired.

The other girl dipped her head. “Yes,” she confirmed.

“Then two, please,” Lescelli decided.

“Certainly. What kind would you like? We have eight flavours.”

Lescelli was silent for a moment before she shrugged. “Surprise me,” she stated.

The other girl looked a little stunned before she simply nodded. “Alright then, just one moment please.”

They waited until she returned with two small, rolled paper bags, which she set on the counter. Lescelli was digging in her pocket, but Tobin stopped her as he pulled his wallet from his back pocket.

Lescelli’s eyes narrowed and she scowled at him as he paid and took the treats off the counter. “Not flirting,” he stated as they stepped out of line. “Just trying to be a polite host. You just got here and are tolerating me after a long journey. The least I can do is treat you to a scone or two. Would you like to sit?”

Lescelli stared at him a moment longer before she sighed and nodded. “Yes, and thank you,” she replied. “Sorry, just force of habit. Usually, a kind gesture has strings on these trips.”

“I made a promise,” Tobin reminded as they found an empty table and took a seat. “I fully intend to keep my word to you, Lescelli. But the manners drilled into my head aren’t going to die off because of that.”

They both pulled open their bags, but Tobin found his gaze drifting back to the woman behind the counter. What had the man called her? Lanna? It was a different sort of name, but he kind of liked it. He liked her smile too. It was bright and genuine but seemed to have something more to it. Those sorts of smiles only came from people who had experienced something horrible and were having a brief moment of genuine joy. It made Tobin wonder.

“Mmm, yup, these are good,” Lescelli commented beside him. “Not quite as good as back home, but damned close. How’s your pie? Tobin?”

Tobin jerked back to her at the sound of his name and found Lescelli grinning impishly at him. “What?”

Lescelli shrugged. “Looks like you found something you like too, hmm?” she teased.

Tobin flushed and shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. Whether or not she wanted to be courted, Tobin was still escorting her and to be gawking at another was incredibly rude. He hadn’t meant to.

Lescelli shook her head. “Don’t be, I get it. She’s cute. I definitely see the appeal, trust me. Was thinking about it too, but I suppose since you’re just as stuck with me as I am with you, the least I can do is let you have first dibs. But even if you strike out, the next piece of pretty eye-candy is mine, deal?”

Tobin frowned as he mulled her words. It was a strange statement to make until it struck him and he flushed. “It didn’t matter what I looked like or what my personality was, did it? I was never going to be your type, was I?”

Lescelli took another bite of her scone and shook her head. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re cute enough and the whole polite to a fault thing is going to work out for you nicely, but I’m not interested, no.”

"Then why is your father trying so hard to set you up with the wrong type of suitor? Even if he insists on a business deal from it, there must be better matches out there.”

Lescelli nodded. “Oh, there are. One I would have taken in a heartbeat, but my father is old-fashioned and doesn’t believe two women can handle things as well, thinks I need the strong manly type by my side and fully believes if he can just shove me into enough of these awkward mating rituals, then I’ll realize the error of my ways and change my mind. I won’t.”

“I’m sorry,” Tobin offered. That was a rough situation to be in and he felt genuinely bad for her.

Lescelli waved a hand and finished off her first scone. “It’s my burden to bear,” she replied. “Why don’t you go say ‘hello’? Looks like the line is dying down a bit, you might get a few minutes of conversation in.”

Tobin blushed and shook his head. “No,” he refused. “I am enjoying hanging with you and it would be incredibly impolite to leave you alone.”

Lescelli shrugged. “Your loss,” she replied. “I wouldn’t be offended. I don’t mind being by myself. I’m being generous here; if you don’t go talk to her, I will,” she threatened with a wink. “And I won’t lose any sleep about leaving your sorry rear just sitting here when I do.”