The longest lines led from the chemists’ booths. Mostly household slaves dressed in their master’s livery and a few freeborn customers. Merchant class, from the looks of them. Jaren rested his hand on her waist. He’d said it was to keep from losing track of each other in the crowd, but she was glad for the connection, however slight. His touch burned and comforted at the same time, and it took all her willpower to keep from begging him to return to their room at the inn. He nodded at the long lines. “Wonder what they’re selling?” “Chemicals and potions. Probably to replace those used during the first night of the festival.” Her face heated. Her home system was particularly notorious for aphrodisiacs and stamina enhancers. Especially during this season. “I see.” His eyes darkened, and a wicked grin played at the corners of his mouth. He knew what she wasn’t saying. “I don’t think we have to get into those lines.” “No.” Desire certainly wasn’t a problem for her, and Jaren’s stamina was already impressive.
