This one was a little too Firefly. I mean, I love Firefly, but this is pretty much a direct rip-off of that bit from “The Train Job.” Also, it turned out that I didn’t need them to be refugees during this bit, so it all is moot, really.
“Just remember,” he said as they joined the shuffling line of folk waiting to enter the city gates, “how much I love you.”
She whipped her head around to stare at him, cheeks flushing hot in an instant. “What?” she hissed. Also, I’m pretty sure you can’t hiss a “what,” which has no sibilants.
He met her gaze calmly. “Because you’re my wife.”
“I’m your what? Evion, what–”
He tossed his hair back and laughed. “Well, unless Mother was keeping secrets, you can’t be my sister; we don’t look anything alike. We could be cousins, I suppose, but that introduces too many complications. And if the idea is not to be noticed, we can’t be a travelling sorcerer and his swordswoman escort–or a travelling swordswoman and her sorcerer escort–because that would attract entirely too much attention. Don’t you agree, darling?” His sweet smile held more than a hint of malice.
“I’ll get you for this,” Aine muttered. “Honey.”
Evion’s grin grew, if anything, wider. “Aww, poor thing,” he said, putting his arm about her waist. “Clearly the strain of abandoning our homestead has made you irascible. But we’ll soon have you settled in town, which will soothe your shattered nerves.”
She set her jaw and managed not to flinch away from the embrace, resolving, when they had escaped from so-called civilization, she would get him for this.