10 Hugo
Hugo
Hugo woke up as the sun was setting in an empty room with a rabbit glaring daggers at him. How a rabbit was conveying that
she was glaring daggers at him he wasn’t entirely sure, but he did know that he was alone in the room, and that the energy
coming from the rabbit was malicious.
He was immediately furious.
“That damned woman,” he said, jumping up and desperately rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He hadn’t slept that long in . . .
well, maybe ever. He sniffed the air, following the herbal scent to a bowl that had been set on the hearth of the fire.
Valerian. She’d made a tincture to keep him asleep.
Deep breaths, Hugo, he thought. You need information from her still, and she clearly isn’t willing to give up pretending like she doesn’t know who you are
yet. It was unbelievably stupid of her to go out in a town she’d never been in without someone to protect her. The Iron Retinue
could have recognized her—they could have taken her.
He looked at the rabbit. “How could you let her go out when I said she shouldn’t?” he said, as if the bunny could understand
what he was saying.
She stomped her back legs in response.
“Don’t pretend like you know what I said,” he sniped back at the rabbit. Great, he was talking to the rabbit now. How much more was his sanity going to devolve? Between arguing with this damned rabbit and
dealing with Eira’s games, Hugo felt like he was truly losing his mind.
Hugo hadn’t even really had time to ponder the events of the days prior, or how the Iron Retinue had even found him. Between
finding the conjured hand in Eira’s house yesterday afternoon when he’d sneaked into her home after meeting her in her shop,
and the Iron Retinue barreling into the tavern that same evening, Hugo didn’t know what to think. How had Eira hidden her
magic for all that time? And how had the Iron Retinue even found him?
It worried him. He’d left no discernible trail or hint of where he was going when he’d fled the capital. If the Iron Empire
wanted to chase him down, they would, and he wasn’t going to aid them in their pursuit. The punishment for desertion was worse
than death; he knew that much.
“I need to get out of my head,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head and strapping on his sword and then his cloak. “And
I need to find Eira.”
Moments later he headed down the stairs and into the bustling, warm tavern. It was busy, but not as busy as he was sure it
was going to be later this evening as the sun finished setting and the need to consume mead and unwind grew.
He scanned the room for the beautiful auburn hair and ample curves he’d felt pressed against him all night as they rode. She
may have made him furious by risking her life in this town she didn’t know, but Hugo couldn’t deny the way that Eira made
him feel, despite everything. He despised how easy it was for him to get flustered around her.
It didn’t take long for him to spot her, in the same outfit she’d been wearing the night before, at the bar with the barmaid from earlier this morning.
It took just as long for him to notice the leering eyes of the men at the tables in the busy tavern, watching her as they ate.
Panic shot through him for the briefest of moments as he wondered if she had told the people in this town that he had kidnapped her.
If she did that, though, he’d have been taken from his room.
The Iron Retinue or the city guard would have taken him as he slept.
No, Eira had kept the truth a secret for some reason.
Even through all of the charades and pretending like she’d been kidnapped earlier.
This had been the perfect opportunity to slip his grasp, which is what he’d half expected her to do.
He’d found her once, though; he’d have been able to find her again.
Hugo walked down the stairs, heading straight for Eira where she sat at the bar. Snaking his arm around her waist, he felt
a spark shimmer through his hand where he touched the soft, worn-in cotton of the dress that perfectly draped around her delicious
curves. He had to stop thinking about her like that—like she was something for him to devour.
She jumped slightly at his touch, the pint of what smelled like a sweet, fruity mead in her hands nearly sloshing over the
sides as she glanced over and realized it was him. Within seconds the jovial smile that had been on her face dropped to what
he could only describe as a poorly hidden scowl.
“You should try to hide your feelings of disdain toward me a bit better, or the men in this tavern are going to try to take
you home tonight,” he whispered in her ear before looking at the woman behind the bar and saying, “I’ll have what my wife
is having.”
Eira’s eyes locked with Hugo’s and he saw rage and something else behind them. Something he hadn’t seen in a long time.
“Maybe I would rather go back to a room with one of these hardworking men,” she hissed, removing his hand from her waist.
“You know, I think you’ve actually decided to listen to what I told you about the Iron Retinue coming for you too,” he said, grabbing her hand and rubbing his thumb over her soft knuckles, feigning married affection.
It was about the ruse, not about making sure those men knew they couldn’t have her, of course.
“The devil you know,” was all she answered. Her scowl caused a crease to form between her brows and he realized that that
crease had never been there before, a stark reminder of the time that had passed since he had last seen her.
“Here you go,” the barmaid said as she handed Hugo his drink. He watched her side-eye Eira in the way women always did when
they were trying to make sure the other was okay.
“Thank you so much,” he said, grabbing it from her gently. “Thanks for watching over her while I slept.”
The barmaid turned to him, a different woman than that morning, one dark eyebrow lifted. “I like to protect the girls that
come into my bar,” was all she said, before turning toward the rest of the bar.
Eira turned to Hugo, a wry smirk on her face. Her cheeks were flushed, and her hair was a bit of a mess in its bun—he found
that he had to stop himself from trying to kiss her. This was not how this was going to go; he needed something from her,
and then they needed to leave.
“I should be furious with you right now,” he choked out.
“For leaving?” she answered, crossing her legs. Her flowing skirts rode up and draped, outlining her ample thigh and putting
it on display. Fuck.
“For drugging me,” he answered gruffly, and probably more harshly than he needed to he added, “For using magic against me.”
“It was simply to help you sleep. You looked exhausted,” she answered as she glanced up at his face. “You still do.”
“We still haven’t discussed the other magic,” he said, lowering his voice. “How do I know you didn’t do more than just use a potion on me today?”
“If I wanted to do more to you, I would have,” she stated lightly. A chill ran through Hugo; this was not the Eira he’d expected, and he felt torn between his concern over what he was learning and his . . . feelings.
Hugo opened his mouth to snipe back at her when he noticed a man sidle up to Eira.
“Well, well, well,” the man said, already slurring his words even though the sun had just set. “I see some newcomers.”
“Incredible observation,” Hugo said dryly.
The man ignored him, leaning in toward Eira. “We don’t see pretty ladies like you around these parts much.”
“That seems like an insult to the beautiful women I’ve seen in town today,” Eira answered, smiling through gritted teeth.
It was the same nonsmile she’d given Hugo since he’d found her potions shop. He wondered what a real smile would look like
from her again, like the brief glimpse he’d gotten the night before at the tavern, like all the other ones . . . before.
“Well,” the man said, propping himself up on the bar on the other side of Eira and grazing her hip as he moved into position.
“There’s something about a new pretty girl that makes her seem prettier than the others.”
“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” Eira said, her smile fading and anger lacing her voice.
Careful, Hugo thought. The last thing the two of them needed was to start a brawl in the middle of town. Two newcomers, arriving
in the darkness before the dawn, starting a fight right away? It was a recipe for the Iron Retinue to investigate. Not that
they probably weren’t already on their way here. He hadn’t meant to sleep as long as he had and, quite frankly, he and Eira
should have left hours ago.
“What my wife is saying,” he said, moving closer to Eira as he worked toward stepping between her and the random drunk, “is
that she thinks all women are beautiful. Right, honey?”
“Yes,” she answered through teeth that were somehow even more gritted than before.
“Wife?” the man said, turning his attention to Hugo. “Bad husband to be letting his wife sit in a tavern all alone.”
“She isn’t alone,” Hugo answered, leaning against the bar and taking a sip of his mead.
“She was until you decided to crawl out of your cave.”
“She isn’t now.” He placed his mead down and turned to stare directly at the stranger.
“It wouldn’t take much to get rid of a man like you.” The drunk’s words were slurred. “Then she’d be alone again.”
How foolish these small town men were. They had no idea who they were dealing with.
“I would genuinely like to see you try,” Hugo said, standing up straight and towering over the man. He was not about to be
intimidated. Hugo loomed over the small man, standing almost double his size, and simply watched him until the drunk finally
broke with a weak chuckle, slapping Hugo’s arm.
“You’re funny,” he exclaimed, taking a drink of his dark beer. “Just wanted to give your woman some credit for being as beautiful
as she is.”
Right, just a compliment.
“And I appreciate your compliment to her,” Hugo said, turning back to Eira and away from the man as he walked away. And Eira
looked . . . furious. Shit.
“What makes you think I wanted you to step in there?” Her voice was calm, which meant she was angrier than she’d been all
night. He remembered that the last time she’d spoken to him like that, it had been the worst day of his life.
“You were ready to start a brawl with a drunk when the Iron Retinue is actively looking for us,” Hugo whispered.
“And you weren’t?” she said, standing up and brushing her skirt off.
“It was a calculated decision. I knew he wouldn’t actually do anything,” Hugo said.
“What makes you think my words weren’t calculated?” she answered before lifting her mug and draining the rest of her mead.
“I—” Hugo started to say before taking a deep breath and clenching his teeth to stop himself from snapping. “I am not going
to argue with you. I’m trying to keep us alive, which is difficult with you.”
She tilted her head. “Difficult . . . with me?”
“Yes. You’re getting a lot of attention, if you somehow hadn’t noticed,” he answered, trying desperately to seem nonchalant. She
didn’t need to know he found her exceptionally beautiful. She didn’t need to know he’d dreamed only of her in his valerian-induced
sleep.
“All of these men have seen the same dozen women around their age their whole lives,” he continued. “You’re new, special,
and . . .”
“You think I’m beautiful,” she smirked, some of the anger washing away from her tone.
“They think you’re beautiful,” he answered, too quickly.
“No,” she said, wagging her finger at him. “You do too.”
“Eira,” he said, voice lowering.
She sidled up to him, pressing her soft body against him and getting close. He shivered, willing his body to not react physically
to her—and failing.
“Don’t try to protect me,” she whispered in his ear. “I’m going to go and talk to some of those men over there, and then you’re
going to leave this town, and once you’re gone I’m going to have the Iron Retinue take me home.”
“Eira,” he growled, fighting the urge to snake his arm around her waist.
“You took me from my home,” she said. “And now you’re pretending it wasn’t because you feel the same way all of these other
men do.”
“The Iron Retinue wants you too,” he snarled, angry now. This game had gone too far. He needed her to stop pretending.
“No. The Iron Retinue wants you, and if you’re not nice enough to me I’ll sidle over to the handsome guard I ran into earlier today and tell him that you
forced me to come here. I’d like to see how long it takes them to get you then.”
Hugo’s heart skipped a beat.
“The guard you spoke to earlier today?” he said, grabbing her arm—probably harder than he should have.
“Unhand me,” she said, tugging at her arm, as if that would do anything.
“Eira, you need to tell me when you spoke to a guard.” His eyes desperately searched hers for a sign she was joking, that
she didn’t mean what she was saying.
“This morning, while I ate a delicious pastry in town—a perfectly normal adventure that I had on my own that was completely
safe, despite you telling me not to leave,” she answered dismissively, still not understanding just how bad this could get.
“What did you tell him?” he said in a low voice, still holding her. The bar grew quieter as they stood, and Hugo abruptly
realized what this must look like to everyone else here. Him holding her, and her trying to leave—not just a lover’s quarrel.
This looked bad, really bad.
“Unhand me,” she said again, a dangerous rumble in her voice. “He’s in this room, and you need to stop bringing attention
to us.”
Of course the city guard who had been working in the morning was off shift and came to the local bar to drink with friends.
Hugo was an idiot; they shouldn’t have stopped here.
“We need to go,” Hugo said, starting to move.
“No,” she said, digging her heels into the ground. “I will not be going with you.”
Deep breaths, Hugo.
“This game you’re playing, where you pretend like you don’t know who I am, is getting out of hand,” he said, pulling her toward the back door of the tavern with as much strength as he could muster without actually harming her.
They could at least have a relatively private conversation out here, and hopefully he could just get the answers he was looking
for and leave if that’s what Eira actually wanted. But . . . could he leave her? Was it even safe for her to be out here in
Astra alone, at the mercy of the Iron Empire to find her whenever they wanted?
He looked back as he knocked the door open and saw what looked like genuine shock on Eira’s face. He heard the mumbling of
the tavern’s patrons as the door shut and desperately hoped that the barmaid wasn’t worried enough for Eira that she called
the guard over. Even if she did . . . well, they needed to leave anyway.
“This game needs to end,” Hugo said, still holding her arm, the cold air of the settling night a shock against his hot skin.
“I don’t know where you’re hiding her, but you need to tell me now.”