The Villainess Wants To Retire Chapter 24: a lost hound

SOREN

I led her through the crowd, hand wrapped around hers, still reeling at the absurdity of it all.

The Queen of Fire. The terror of Solmire. The woman whose very na had beco synonymous with ruin, trailing behind in a shabby cloak, hiding her face, a cheap gemstone tucked in her palm like a child’s prize.

If I hadn’t felt her fire bleeding into my skin, I would’ve thought again that I’d imagined her. But she was real. Too real. Her heat soaked into , into the marrow of my bones, and the weight of her stare on my back burned hotter than any fla.

It should have unsettled . Instead, I was... happy.

Gods, I was so fucking happy just to see her.

Nothing had made sense since I stepped into Solmire, but perhaps that was the point. Maybe that’s why I couldn’t look away from her, why my hand lingered on hers like a starving man hoarding warmth.

We reached the stall I spoke of at last, smoke and charred at rising into the night. Reluctantly, I let her go. She was quicker, yanking her hand back as if my touch offended her.

The vendor bead. "How’ll you take it, my lord? My lady?"

She turned her face aside, veil of hair slipping forward, pretending disinterest. I stepped in easily. "Two skewers. Spiciest you’ve got."

When the man bent to wrap them, I lowered myself until my mouth was at her ear. "Think you can handle it m’lady?" I whispered.

Her head snapped toward , fire flashing in her eyes. Of course she could. She was the goddamned Queen of Fire. The look she gave was answer enough.

And I reveled in it.

The skewers ca, dripping with oil and red spice. I handed her one. "Try it," I said, already biting into mine.

The first explosion of flavor seared my tongue. It was divine, sweet, smoky, brutal with heat, but by the third chew, the burn spread like wildfire. My throat flad. My eyes watered. I coughed once, then tried to disguise it with a grin.

Beside , Eris bit into hers. She paused, brows flicking up in faint surprise at the intensity. Then, calmly, she chewed again. And again. Taking her ti, as if the fire barely registered.

anwhile, I was cooling my mouth with threads of ice between bites, desperately trying to keep my composure.

She noticed. Oh, she noticed.

A quiet sound slipped from her, a chuckle. Then, like so miracle, she spoke through a smirk. "The mighty ice warrior felled by Solmire’s street food? Perhaps your empire is weaker than I thought."

I stared at her. Not the words. Not the barb. But the sound.

She had laughed.

Not a cruel cackle. Not the laugh of a queen toying with prey. A real laugh. Quiet. Brief. And shockingly... Human.

And suddenly, the spice didn’t matter. The burn in my throat didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was the sight of Eris laughing, a glimpse of sothing I’d never seen and never knew I craved until now.

She chewed slowly, savoring the spice that I could barely handle, and when I set my half-finished skewer aside, she plucked it from my hand without asking. One clean bite, then another, until it was gone.

The vendor barked a laugh. "Hah! Stronger than her man, eh? Careful, lord, she’ll have your crown before the night’s done!"

Eris’s lips curved faintly, though her eyes stayed locked on . Mine burned hotter than the at, but not from the spice. Sothing in the air had shifted, dangerous, charged, almost tender.

That was when I saw him.

"Ahem!"

A tall figure approached through the crowd, dressed plainly but carrying himself with the stiffness of a knight. Caldus. I’d know him anywhere, her shadow, her leash.

He hesitated when he saw at her side, then dipped low to murmur sothing to her.

The mont broke.

Eris turned to , handing back the empty sticks with that regal finality only she could summon. "Thank you for the snack, Your Majesty. But we must part. Enjoy the rest of your night."

She pivoted before I could answer, cloak swaying, her fire pulling away with every step.

I stood frozen, skewers clutched in my hand like so lovesick fool. Her heat still clung to my skin, but the distance between us grew, stretching, choking with the absence. Every instinct scread at to follow her, like a lost hound trailing warmth in the dark.

But I didn’t. I stayed.

When I finally tore my gaze from where she’d vanished, I drifted back through the market until I found Caelen and Ophelia. They stood near a fire-display, Rael balanced between them, the boy’s eyes alight with the sparks bursting into the sky.

Ophelia spotted first. "Soren! We were just about to search for you."

Caelen’s eyes narrowed slightly, ever the watchdog. "Where did you go?"

I smiled easily, masking the fire still coiled inside . "Got turned around. This market’s more of a maze than I rembered."

Before either could press, I cut the air with a lighter tone. "But tell , are those perforrs juggling fla barehanded? Now that is worth watching."

And just like that, their attention shifted, while I stood among them, still burning with the image of Eris’s laugh, her fire, her vanishing figure carved into my chest.

Caelen laughed, as Rael tugged at his sleeve, pointing toward the fire-breathers spitting arcs of fla into the night sky. Ophelia leaned into his arm, her smile soft and open, a picture of warmth frad in sparks.

It should have been a pleasant sight. My dearest friend with the woman who steadied him, their son, his son, between them. A family in all but na.

But my chest tightened, sharp and inexplicable, as though I were intruding on sothing sacred. Or worse, as though I were watching a play staged over soone else’s grief. Eris’s grief. Her boy laughing in another woman’s arms. Her husband’s hand resting on another’s waist.

I tried to look away, but my eyes found them again. And again.

I told myself I should leave. Find Eris, find her heat, her sharp tongue, anything but this... hollow perfection. But she clearly had her own mission tonight, and for once, I was not invited.

"Uncle Soren," Rael tugged at then, his little fingers clinging to my cloak. "Dragon ice. Dragon ice"

The demand broke out of my reverie. I smiled faintly, summoning a shard of frost that blood into the shape of a tiny dragon. Rael gasped, delighted, and I bent to let it land on his palm before it lted into water. He clapped, demanded another, and soon I was conjuring wolves, swords, little stars. His laughter rose above the hum of the market, light and unburdened.

For a mont, I let myself enjoy it. A borrowed son. A fleeting peace.

Then,

A shriek tore through the night. High, sharp, and human.

The market stopped, silence rippling outward before the crowd turned in one collective motion toward the source.

I straightened at once, the air around dropping to a sudden chill. Caelen’s hand went to his sword. Ophelia clutched Rael closer.

And I thought, whatever awaited us in that direction, sohow, Eris was not far from it.