Even though Lune tried to be subtle, Rayth could tell that she was just as nervous around him as she had been when she’d first bolted away. Her eyes were shifty, and she watched him with the same caution as an animal of prey would study its predator. It wasn’t the first time he’d been regarded as if he would go on a killing spree without warning, but her lingering wariness puzzled him. He would have thought that after she’d talked to Frieda, she would have realized she didn’t have anything to be scared of. Why else would she have come back if she hadn’t been convinced?
	When she hesitated at his question, he folded his arms over his bare chest in subconscious defensiveness, wondering if she still thought his intentions were malicious. He wasn’t trying to isolate her. The offer to get away from the back yard had been for both of their benefits, since the incense always messed with his head, and now that he knew she was human, he was sure she was feeling it too. It just seemed like the smarter choice to go inside the big top, where they could talk clearheadedly without getting drunk on the multicolored haze.
	If she did think he was plotting to drain her blood, she was bolder than he’d expected. He felt himself relax when she agreed to go with him and took a step forward to walk to the tent. However, before he could take a second, he felt a whispery, feminine voice tickle his ear: “Don’t tell the girl about the rest of the troupe yet. Frieda’s orders.”
	He glanced over his shoulder to see who had spoken, but he couldn’t see anyone there. If he hadn’t been able to catch the familiar scent of faerie or feel the shiver of moving air near his jaw, he might have thought he’d imagined the quiet words, but he was sure it had been one of the ringmistress’s underlings. Her warning cleared up some of his confusion too. Frieda must have implied that he was the only non-human member of the circus if she didn’t want him to tell her that the others were supernatural creatures as well.
	Lune’s lowered voice drew Rayth’s attention back to the present moment. It sounded like the ringmistress had told her about more than just his vampire lineage. He wasn’t particularly secretive about being a halfling, but it felt a little strange to discuss the subject with someone who had learned about what he was through a third party. Most of the time, if it came up, he would tell them himself. She didn’t seem perturbed though. If anything, it almost looked like the thought was funny to her.
	“It’s a big world,” he shrugged, latching eagerly onto her lighthearted approach to the subject. Although he didn’t believe he was the most unique member of Cirque du Sombre by any means, he kept the objection to himself for the sake of honoring Frieda’s request.
	Trotting a couple paces ahead, he pulled back the curtain entrance of the big top for Lune to enter first. It wasn’t much, but he hoped that small, kind gestures would help her to see that he wasn’t just a bloodthirsty monster like she’d thought. The tactic had worked on other humans he’d interacted with in the past, so it was worth a shot.
	“It’s not that surprising though, is it?” he went on, casting her an amused smile as they stepped into the tent. “I mean, have you ever seen a Latino vampire before?” He made his way to the closest bench and sat down in another attempt to demonstrate that he wasn’t a threat, ever mindful of the effects his actions could have on her while she was still warming up to him.
	He made no effort to convince her to sit with him and instead leaned back languidly with his elbows propped on the raised bench behind him. “As for my decision to join the circus, it was a practicality,” he explained. “No one else expects it any more than you did, so it makes for a good cover. It’s safe; and that’s why anyone does it, right?”