Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 145704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
“They ain’t so bad.” He pauses. “From what I heard, anyway. I wouldn’t know.” He slurps his ale.
“So, you’re from Norcaster?”
“Nah.” He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Just down to get some supplies before I head back up to Woodswich. Ever heard of it?”
This explains the lack of a cuff. “Mortals live without keepers up there, right?”
“Been there all my life. Me and my wife, Norel, and our flock of chickens and goats. Never came down here until I turned into an old, ugly bugger. Nobody bothers me.”
I lean in, layering on a healthy dose of giddy innocence to stroke this fool’s ego. “What’s it like there? Are the rumors true?”
“Depends what you’ve heard.”
“Let’s see …” I pretend to pick my thoughts. He’s exactly what I was hoping to find here—someone who will divulge anything I want to know whether he realizes it or not.
I’m almost certain he’s met Princess Romeria’s soldiers.
I can’t believe my luck.
A commotion stirs, turning heads toward the doorway, where Jarek has strolled in, all leather, blades, and hard lines.
My body tenses. An angry Jarek, I am terrified of.
He locates me in seconds, and the murderous look on his face only adds to my apprehension.
Like in Bellcross’s square, people fall back as he cuts through the crowd, as if they can sense the fury radiating off the warrior, and they know he’ll walk through them. Or maybe it’s his size that inspires them to move. He’s a full head taller than most.
Whatever is about to happen, it isn’t going to be pleasant for me. Still, I plaster on an adoring smile and wave him over. “There he is!”
Fearghal watches Jarek approach with a note of concern. “That’s your mate?”
“Yes. Isn’t he handsome? Hey, honey, did you find us a room for the night?” I call out, the words dripping with sweetness.
Jarek falters, caught off guard, but he recuperates quickly, his gray gaze landing on our companion. “Leave. Now.”
“Nice talkin’ to ya.” Fearghal collects his beer and shifts back to join his friend, adding a few feet for good measure.
I stifle my curse, keeping up appearances. “See, now that’s why you always get into fights when you come here. You’re not nice.”
Jarek replaces the man who was beside me, swinging his leg over the bench to straddle it. His leathers are soaked from the rain, as are his braids. He didn’t even pause to throw on a cloak before hopping on his horse and racing here. “What the fuck do you think you are doing?” he hisses.
“I was getting valuable information from Fearghal who’s from Woodswich and has met Ybarisans, but then you had to ruin it. By the way, thanks for the riding lessons. Couldn’t have done it without you.” A small part of me feels guilty. Abarrane may punish him for this when she finds out.
“We’re leaving. Now.” His calloused hand curls around my elbow.
“I’m already here, and I’m not going anywhere without Zander. Also …” I warn in a whisper, “Have you ever seen the kind of scene I can cause? I promise, it won’t be subtle.”
After a moment’s pause, Jarek releases me, his teeth grinding.
I drum my fingers against the table. “Now, where’s the waitress? I could use a beer.”
Jarek’s attention swings to Pan. “And you. Wait until the commander gets hold of you for helping with this scheme.”
Pan’s face pales.
“Leave him alone. He was only doing what I told him to.”
“That won’t protect him.” Jarek surveys the tavern, his eyes landing first on Zander, then on Elisaf, who is watching with a smug expression. “I wondered why you would change your mind about Eden. I should have known it was for nefarious reasons, given who you are.”
“I’d love to take credit for that level of scheming, but that was coincidental.” I drop my voice. “I changed my mind before I found out that Zander came here looking for missing scouts, something you neglected to mention.”
“Why would I mention something you don’t need to know?”
I snort. “Either way, it worked to my advantage. And aren’t you supposed to be in a good mood after, you know …”
“After Loth barged into the tent to inform me that your horse was gone, and so were you, and no one could explain how?” He glares at me. “And when I interrogated the witch—”
“You did what?” I snap, my blasé act vanishing. “Gesine had nothing to do with it. Your guards weren’t doing their jobs.”
A young, dimple-cheeked barmaid interrupts us. “A round to start?”
“Please. Just two, though.” I cast a thumb toward Jarek. “He can’t handle his ale.”
Her curious blue eyes flitter over Jarek before shifting to Pan, who can’t seem to peel his gaze off her cleavage. He looks two seconds away from needing a napkin to wipe drool off his chin. “Aren’t you a cute one.” She reaches out to stroke his cheek before strolling away, her hips swinging.