Keeping away his conquests, on the other hand, still has me rolling my eyes. But that part is, I have to admit, kind of working.

A handsome boy saunters over and tries to give Rafe his handkerchief as a good luck token.

“I’m afraid I already have a good luck favor,” Rafe says to him. “Isn’t that right, my dove?”

I snort at how ridiculous that sounds but try to play it off as a flirtatious giggle. “Indeed, babe,” I reply.

He strokes my cheek as he gently tugs one of the green ribbons from my braid and ties it around his wrist.

“So, it’s true?” the boy with the handkerchief asks sulkily. “You’re really with her?”

Nope. He’s not really with me, folks.

Rafe holds me by the waist and uses me like a human shield to navigate past the rest of his admirers until we reach the front doors.

It’s time for the games to begin.

“Hypatia would love this,” I say wistfully as we follow the parade of people to the arena at the edge of the island. I’m full of guilt for enjoying my first hoverjousting match without the very person who introduced me to it in the first place.

Rafe tenses beside me, and I regret my flippancy. If I’m feeling bad and missing Hypatia right now, I can only imagine how he feels.

The expression on his face is as steely as ever, but I’ve been around him enough to see the signs that he’s working to maintain the cool facade.

It’s instinct more than anything that has me taking his hand to offer him some reassurance, some solidarity. I’m the only person who knows the steps he’s taking to help his cousin. He laces his fingers with mine, squeezing gently, and—well, that doesn’t feel like just solidarity anymore. Our Ha’i reacts as always, but it feels different this time, solidifying instead of sizzling, making me feel an undeniability that our hands fit together.

I glance up, but Rafe isn’t looking back at me; he’s casually waving at one of his teammates. Apparently, the handholding is no big deal to him, whereas I feel like I’ve just been downed off my hoverboard.

I have to stop getting lost in the act. Rafe is a master of acting this part without it meaning anything. Though I’m sure it helps that he has touched many, many more, um, hands, than I have.

Separating to sit with each of our teams is a relief.

My own match isn’t until midday, so I get to watch the games unfold from up close while enjoying crunch-bombs and spiced juice and the gorgeous ocean view from the open amphitheater built into the cliff.