Chapter Thirty One

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The excitement and happiness brims over from Ari to the vendors as she flutters from one stall to another bestowing radiant smiles and sweet praises for the most innocent and simple of wares. She buys precious looking stones with threads of silver and gold running through blue and green knowing the cook's children's eyes will widen with marvel at the sight of them. She bargains for a handful of pretty ribbons only to pay full price much to the woman's surprise and joy. Hunter shakes his head but watches her with a genuine smile. Every now and again she turns to him to ask for his choice on this or that.

They stop at a table stacked with books next. Ari beams at the elderly gentleman before she, with great focus, scans through the books, weighing each one in her hands as if it is a precious treasure, looking for one to buy. "There was a book in your library that I never got the chance to finish. It has driven me quite mad ever since." She softly says, holding a conversation while her mind is otherwise occupied. She picks up another book carefully and reads the description written on the inside page. She hands it over to the gentleman with a nod. "This one please."

"Is that the book?" Hunter asks, thinking it remarkable if it is. He looks at Ari with affection when she does not immediately reply, her mind still focused on the books she has not yet discovered.

"I am afraid not. Your brother, Bear, did say it was one of a kind. I have not yet found another to prove him wrong. This..." she gestures to the book the gentlemen is kindly wrapping for her, "...is my favourite book of all time." Her smile is soft and sure, a fond memory attached to those pages. Memories of her father reading it to her before bed when she was very young.

She pays for the book and turns to Hunter, holding it out to him. At first he thinks she wants him to carry it for her but then she says, "From me to you. I think you will enjoy it. It was written over two hundred years ago and speaks of a woman with great courage and intelligence. The first female warrior who ever received prominence and set the path for women like Sparrow to follow today. Her story is remarkable." Hunter accepts the gift, touched that she would buy him her favourite book. The passion that flows through her voice surprises him and his eyes are the clear blue of a cloudless sky as he gazes down at her.

"She sounds remarkable." He agrees before turning his attention to the books until he finds one he has read before and enjoyed. He hands over the correct amount of coins before giving the book to her. "This is a story of how our land and the lands across the sea separated from each other and became barred off from one another. It is full of mystery and betrayal and a love that echoes down to today." Hunter explains.

"Careful Hunter, remember what I said about that power of yours to make a girl swoon." Her words contradict her actions a she holds the book close to her chest in anticipation of getting lost in a new book. Hunter chuckles, the deep timbre warm.

He sweeps the growing crowds for their next stall. He freezes and blinks, twisting back to the now empty space where it had not been before. His eyes must be deceiving him. However his mind is now on full alert and he searches each and every face. There he is again but only the back of his head. Someone could make the argument that the back of a head is no way to tell who the person is. Another back of the head could be increasingly similar. Despite this Hunter knows he would not mistake that head or that stature. "Hunter?" Ari calls his name noticing his sudden alertness and she wants to understand why.

Hunter holds out his hand to her. With no hesitation she slips the book into the large bag hanging from her elbow and slips her hand into his. For one brief moment he forgets why he did so. There are neither sparks nor explosions when her hand slots into his. Instead there is comforting warmth, an understanding of two beings that extends beyond mere chemistry. Her hand fits so snuggly in his that he adjusts, weaving their fingers together. She is not running away, her grip instead promises to go with him.

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