Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
I’ve never seen The Whispering Willow this busy.
A full band plays lively music as people dance and sway in the aisles.
Every table is brimming with people, the majority of them playing Mystic Runes.
Whenever someone loses a round, they have to finish their drink, leaving many patrons devastatingly drunk.
I weave between the busy rows as I slide ale to different tables, dodging flying fists every time a fight breaks out.
Some men pull off their tunics and wrestle, a sight I’m not unpleased to witness.
When someone loses, they start slinging magic at one another, occasionally singeing the corners of the furniture or the walls with fire.
A strange man is sitting at a table in the corner.
His hooded cloak casts a shadow over his eyes, and a scarf wraps tightly around his nose and mouth, concealing his identity.
Hints of brunette hair poke out from under the hood, a stark contrast to his deep brown eyes that pierce through the shadow.
“Anything to drink?” I ask, my words catching slightly in my throat.
“No, thanks.” His voice is raspy, worn down.
“Oh…” I take in the man slowly, scanning for weapons. Two daggers. A blade hidden in their sleeve. “Any food?”
He reaches out, sliding a gold coin across the table to me. “Give that to Alastor for me.”
I pluck it from the table, studying the coin in my palm. I have never seen a gold coin in Khalessor before, and I wonder if it is of incredibly high value.
“What’s your name?” My curiosity gets the best of me.
“Zev,” he replies calmly.
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” I nod, turning to walk away.
“Yours?” Zev calls out.
“Rae.” I smile warmly.
Zev doesn’t reply, turning his attention elsewhere. I take the coin to Alastor and slide it across the bar for him to take. “The man in the corner told me to give this to you,” I say vaguely, hoping he will fill in the cracks for me.
Alastor takes the coin. “That’s a Shadow Weaver.”
“What is that?” Confusion fills me. “Like an assassin?”
“They can provide any service you want,” Alastor replies. “They only accept payment in secrets, though.”
My brows lower. Payment via secrets? I suppose Zev sold the information in return or used it to blackmail people. If Zev gave Alastor a gold coin, did that mean he sold a secret to the Shadow Weaver?
“Interesting…” I glance back at Zev.
“I recommend steering clear of any Shadow Weaver you come across.” Alastor notices my gaze. “Best not to get involved in the web of secrets.”
“Of course.” I nod, giving him a reassuring smile as I step away from the bar. Making my way around the tavern, I stop at the tables playing Mystic Runes. The men usually guzzle their drinks quickly during rounds of the game.
“Another round?” I walk up to one of the tables.
“You’re cheatin’!” Kieran yells as he takes his eighth drink of the night, slamming down his cards.
“It’s not my fault you’re useless at this game, Kieran,” Stanik replies, leaning back in his chair. His pale blonde hair is messy, his sleeves rolled up lazily as he holds his cards close.
“Raelys?” Stanik takes notice of me.
“Hello, Stanik,” I greet him warmly.
Stanik stands quickly from his seat, tossing his cards on the table and clutching my shoulders tightly. “I need your help,” he says with hushed urgency.
I recoil from his sudden closeness. “With what?”
He releases me, stepping back and running his fingers through his hair as he paces around the tavern. Stanik’s skin flushes momentarily as he opens and closes his mouth a few times.
“I—you see…” He stumbles over his words. “There is a lady who has caught my eye. Lady Aurelia.”
My brows raise from his sudden admission. Before I can reply, Kieran bellows out a loud laugh, slamming his fist on the table a few times as he clutches his side. Stanik shoves Kieran, who nearly falls from his seat.
“Shut it, you bastard.” He returns his attention to me. “She won’t speak to me.”
“She’s very shy,” I tell him. “She likely also believes that your rank is above hers and is trying to be polite in her role.”
“I’ve seen her with you a few times. Is she your friend? Can you ask her?” Stanik requests.
The things Aurelia endured at the hands of her father are difficult for me to stomach. She’s only just learning what freedom feels like. I would hate for her to feel obliged to settle down so quickly.
“Well…” I pause to contemplate things. “She has a sister, Violet, who is twelve. They can never be separated. They have no parents, and Aurelia is her sole caretaker.”
Stanik nods. “I understand.”
“I’ll think about it,” I reply, not fully turning down his request, but not fully accepting either. “Give me a couple of days.” I know Aurelia wouldn’t be confident enough to speak up for her needs, so I will on her behalf.
“Of course.” Stanik returns to his seat at the table. “Thank you, Raelys.”
“It’s nothing.” I smile. “Now, another round of ale?”
“Yes.”
I take their empty cups to the bar so Alastor can refill them.
Making a quick round to drop them off, I wipe down a nearby sticky table with a rag, straighten out some tables, and gather up the scattered tankards left behind by the night’s more rowdy patrons.
The scent of spilled ale mixes with faint traces of perfume and sweat from the evening’s festivities, a smell I’ve actually become quite fond of.
“There she is.” I hear a voice behind me.
Turning, I see Sebastian. “Hello,” I greet him, and can’t help the smile that spreads across my face.
“Hello, darling.” Sebastian’s arm circles my waist, pulling me out of the line of fire as a stone sails across the room, hitting the wall beside us. Someone lost a game of Mystic Runes.
“Were you traveling?” I ask, taking note of his thick cloak and layered clothing. Bits of snow are stuck in his hair, slowly melting from the heat.
Sebastian lets out a sigh. “Yes, and it was more difficult than imagined. A snowstorm caused us to delay our return for about four days,” he explains. “That’s not why I sought you out, though.”
“It’s alright to admit that you missed me.” I shamelessly flirt, knowing it will get a rise from him, practicing Kaia’s advice.
“I missed you dearly.” Sebastian beams, his touch still lingering on my waist. “How have you been?”
I frown. “I must say, I’m not a fan of this cold.”
He chuckles. “I can imagine, considering you’re used to the South.” Sebastian leans in close, whispering into my ear, “Have you considered my offer?”
Sebastian is growing bolder. Gottfried truly wants me separated from Wrath. Based on my mother’s journal, I believe that there is no ill will between them. I still don’t trust anyone in the North, especially the nobles.
“Sebastian?” I fawn, placing a gentle hand on his chest.
“What is it?” His brows lower, a gloved hand covering mine. Concern fills his features as he steps closer to me. “What’s wrong?”
“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about Noctalis, would you?” I give him a petulant look.
“It’s tomorrow night,” he replies.
It’s now or never. I must gain entry into this party to see if my blackmail of Lord Cerian was successful.
Second, I need to find Duke Alec Wulfstan of Salasyr so I may learn of Lydia’s whereabouts.
Third, I think it would make Wrath covetous to see me with another man, and I find that highly entertaining.
“That’s a shame.” I pout my bottom lip. “I’m not invited. I do love a good party.”
“Nonsense. You’re coming with me,” he says without hesitation.
“Are you sure? It won’t hurt your rank to be seen with a human?” I pretend to waver, but this is precisely what I want.
“I don’t care what anyone thinks.” Sebastian gives me a confident smile. “I’ll fetch you tomorrow evening.” I’m about to speak when Sebastian’s eye catches on someone behind me. “Is that a Shadow Weaver?”
I follow his gaze until I reach Zev. “It is,” I reply simply, waiting to gauge his reaction.
“Goddess above,” Sebastian swears under his breath.
“Have you worked with one?”
Sebastian shakes his head. “Never. I suggest you don’t either.”
“Why?” I ask, trying not to sound too eager.
“Because they start using your secrets against you.” His voice is deadly. “Then you’ll find yourself doing things for them to keep your secrets from getting out.”
“I see…” My voice trails off as I glance back at Zev. The table is empty, as though he were nothing more than a ghost conjured by my imagination.
“I must depart, but I’ll see you tomorrow.” Sebastian drops his hand from my waist, moving toward the exit of the tavern.
Sebastian appears a bit shaken from the presence of the Shadow Weaver, and his abrupt departure makes me wonder if he’s chasing after Zev. Does Sebastian have a personal experience with the dark exchange he’d warned me against?
Shrugging, I turn back to my work, moving throughout the tables to pick up discarded cups and clean off tables. By the time Alastor lets me go for the night, my eyelids are heavy and my steps slow.
Leaving the Whispering Willow, I turn west and head toward the manor.
Kaia may know something about these Shadow Weavers.
I’d spent weeks at the tavern, and this is the first time I’d seen or heard of one.
I don’t like being out this late at night alone, the streets barren and quiet.
My steps are quick, the hood of my cloak pulled high to conceal my face.
Weaving through the hedges, I open the back door and head upstairs.
I find Kaia pressed against the bookshelf, a man’s hand reaching underneath her dress, the two of them passionately kissing. Her fingers thread into his hair as she tilts her legs further apart to give him more access.
“Oh Gods—sorry!” I gasp, quickly slamming the door shut.
I hear Kaia’s laughter on the other side. “Come in, it’s fine!” she calls out.
Hesitantly opening the door again, I see Kaia smoothing out her dress with her hands, a broad smile on her lips. “Now go be a good boy and finish your guard shift,” she coos.
“Yes, Madame,” he obeys, passing by me to leave.
The door closes, and I do my best to regain my composure. What am I here for again? Gods. Maybe I need to take my pent-up aphrodisia out on a man.
“You know, Lord Cerian is downstairs.” Kaia’s words break me out of my thoughts.
“He is?” My eyes widen. “Dress me up like one of the guards, quick!” I say urgently, rifling through my satchel for Lydia’s dagger.
“Here.” She plops a garment bag on the desk for me. “He’s in room six.”
“Do you have something to cover my face?” I reply, quickly pulling on the pants and coat.
I pull my hair back as much as I can, tying it into a low bun at the base of my neck. Kaia hands me a strip of black cloth, and I tie it around the lower half of my face, just like Zev’s had been. Pulling on my cloak and hood, I slip leather gloves on, grab the dagger, and dash for the door.
“Have fun!” Kaia says playfully.
Racing downstairs, I scan each room until I find the one labelled six. Flinging open the door, it slams with a loud bang, startling the people inside. In three long strides, I’m across the room, pressing the dagger directly into his cock.
This is the most deranged thing I have ever done.
Cerian screams. The two girls run from the room, taking armfuls of clothing with them. The door slams behind them as they flee, leaving us alone.
“You didn’t heed my letter,” I say, then suddenly realize I’m supposed to be a Shadow Weaver. I clear my throat, lowering my voice as much as I can. “Where’s the shipment?”
“I-I sent half of it away—”
I press the dagger harder, drawing a small droplet of blood onto the blade, causing Cerian to yelp in pain. “Do you know who I am?” My voice nearly cracks as I try to growl my words fearsomely.
“Y-you’re a Shadow Weaver.” Cerian’s voice shakes. “Look, whatever you have on me isn’t true.”
“Make it all go away,” I demand, forcing my voice to sound baritone. “Send it south to the town of Karnys if you value your life.”
“That would cause a famine in the North,” he replies hesitantly.
I dig the dagger deeper into his cock. “I guess you won’t be needing this.”
“Wait!” he cries out.
Then I smell something, sharp and pungent. My nose crinkles behind my mask. The scent is unmistakable. “Did you just piss yourself?” I say in disbelief, glancing down and then back up to meet his gaze.
Cerian only whines in response.
“What in the—”
“I’ll do it! P-please don’t hurt me,” he sobs, eyes darting between his member and me.
“Make it go away by tomorrow or Felicity dies.” I give him an ultimatum.
“Not my wife!” His eyes widen in horror. “Please, she’s innocent.”
“Swear to me!”
“I’ll do it.” He nods. “I swear it.”
I lift the blade, holding it out as I slowly back toward the door. Cerian stays put, a hand protectively cupping his length. My left hand darts out, turning the knob, allowing me to slip out of the room.