Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Once Royce stops gaping, he excuses himself to tell his wife he’s going out.
A few minutes later, he returns. “Why don’t we talk at the tavern? I have a shed with a few stalls around back. We can put your…alicorn,” he nods at Zephyr, “in there. There’s plenty of hay.”
“Thank you. I’m sure he would like that.” I rub Zephyr’s neck, glad he’ll have hay to munch on while we speak with Royce. The alicorn certainly deserves it.
After Royce shoos some chickens out of the way, he tosses an armful of hay on the ground. Thorne unbridles Zephyr before securing him in the enclosure.
Raucous laughter spills from the rustic tavern as we approach. Inside, flickering torches light the main room, casting shadows on the rough-hewn wooden tables and benches. The thick air carries the scent of cheap liquor and roasted meat.
The patrons are both men and women, some cloaked to conceal their identities. Around the cozy space, at least half a dozen card games are in progress. A chorus of shouts and whistles erupts when one man wins a round.
Royce leads us to a table in the back, nodding to a few men as he passes. He gestures for us to sit, and I slide onto the bench first. Thorne takes a seat next to me while Royce heads to the bar to get our drinks.
A few tables away, a young woman with a low-cut scarlet gown and lips painted to match sits atop a man’s lap. Her companion whispers something in her ear as his thumb skims across the underside of her breast. She arches her back, blond curls cascading down her shoulders as she giggles. I can’t wrench my eyes away as the man’s hand trails up the woman’s bare leg and vanishes under her skirt.
What would Thorne do if I climbed into his lap like that? Would he protest, or would he engage in scandalous activities?
I picture us sitting there instead. My temperature spikes. Beneath the table, Thorne’s thigh presses against mine as he leans down. “It’s not polite to stare.”
My face burns, and my gaze snaps to his. “I know. Sorry, I?—”
“I’m only teasing.” I could get lost in his throaty laugh. “I doubt they’re very aware of their surroundings at the moment.”
“Oh.” I twist my hands in my lap, fighting the desire to pull my hood over my head and hide my face.
“That’s twice tonight.”
“What?”
“That’s the second time you’ve been speechless. And I find it rather adorable.”
I draw my eyebrows together. “Why would you find that…adorable?”
He shrugs. “You just look so innocent when you’re at a loss for words. It’s endearing.”
Innocent? Endearing? He’s describing a five-year-old girl. My nose wrinkles. “You’re ridiculous.”
He grins, the gesture softening the angles of his handsome face. “Tell me something. Did you come here often before you started at Flighthaven?”
“No. This is actually my first time.”
“Let me guess. A place like this is too crude and boisterous for your…delicate sensibilities.” The words echo what he’d said on my first day at Flighthaven, but this time, they hold no malice.
I snort. “Hate to disappoint you, but I am not delicate.” How do I explain I wasn’t allowed to go, well, anywhere? “And I…my mother wouldn’t let me come…here.”
“Ah, well, you’re here now. So what do you think?”
My gaze flicks to the scantily clad woman. The man’s hand is hidden under her dress, moving in slow circles between her thighs.
My gods.
Thorne follows my gaze and clears his throat. “Well?”
“It’s…educational.” The words squeak out as warmth floods my face again.
Before I have a chance to say anything that will further embarrass me, Royce arrives with our drinks.
“Would you care for an ale, Lady Lark?”
“I’d love one. Thank you.”
He sets the frosty mug in front of me, then hands one to Thorne as he sits and claims the last one for himself.
Thorne nods his thanks, raising the glass to his lips and taking a measured drink. “Careful, it’s strong. Wouldn’t want you to find yourself in a compromising situation. Another one, anyway.”
Now I’m definitely thinking about last night’s kiss. From the way his gaze flares with heat, he is too.
I take a sip of my ale and focus on Royce. “Tell us about the fire. Do you know what caused it?”
The amusement in his eyes fades, and his shoulders sag. “I think it was set. Vegetable and fruit merchants don’t like me giving away what they want someone to pay for.”
I make a face. “That’s ridiculous. How can these people without enough money to eat pay? Especially with the recent shortages driving the prices up? Do you know which merchant may have set the blaze?”
He offers a bitter laugh. “Even if I did, I can’t be certain they acted alone. The constables could’ve been in on the fire too.”
A gulp of ale does little to smother my outrage. “So now they’re helping merchants break the law?”
“I don’t know, but they do keep showing up, wanting me to pay them to protect the place from the merchants.” He sighs. “I barely make enough to buy the food. How am I supposed to pay them on top of that?”
“It’s senseless. And you shouldn’t have to. But please don’t worry.” I pull the leather pouch from my cloak, then reach across the table and deposit the bundle into Royce’s weathered hand. “I brought enough coin tonight to keep the food pantry going for quite some time.”
Royce’s mouth opens and closes a few times before he speaks. “Bless you. I can never thank you enough.”
As usual, the appreciation has me squirming. Especially since I’m doing the bare minimum. “No thanks necessary. I’m honored to help.”
The table grows quiet, and I know without turning my head that Thorne’s watching me.
When he reaches for his mug, his arm brushes against mine. “This village is struggling to get enough food?”
“The shortages are hurting everyone, and most of the lower class don’t have the money to buy what’s at the market.” Royce glances around and leans closer, dropping his voice. “The king keeps upping the taxes on what’s sold. Times are tough for a lot of people.”
The ale sours in my stomach. No one should have to wake up wondering if they’ll get to fill their bellies when so many have plenty to spare.
Thorne rubs the back of his neck. “Is that why you started a food pantry, Royce?”
“Oh, no. It wasn’t my idea.” His face flushes as his lips curve into a grin. “The pantry was all Lady Lark.”
I wave off his praise. “It was a joint effort.”
Still smiling, Royce shrugs.
Thorne studies me, his face a mixture of emotions I can’t name.
Royce clears his throat. “If you don’t mind me asking, Lady Lark, how are you adjusting to Flighthaven?”
“I’m…adjusting.” I sip my ale and trace circles on the worn wooden table. “It hasn’t been easy, but now that I’ve been there a while, I can’t imagine ever returning home.”
Royce flashes me a knowing look. “I’m sure. It must be nice not to be trapped in that castle of a home anymore.”
He has no idea just how much I’ve enjoyed this taste of freedom. “Very nice.”
Thorne opens his mouth, questions I don’t want to answer swimming in his gold-flecked eyes.
I blurt out the first topic that comes to mind. “Tell me what’s been happening with you. How is your family?”
At the mention of his loved ones, Royce’s face softens. “You’ll never guess what Sarah did last week.”
As he launches into a story about his youngest daughter’s antics, I start to relax. The last couple of weeks have been difficult, and it’s wonderful to forget about my problems for a bit.
“Aw, come on, sweetness, gimme a kiss, will ya?”
At the table nearest ours, a youngish man pulls a giggling serving girl onto his lap. Within seconds, they’re kissing as if they mean it and then some.
Despite Thorne’s earlier warning, he watches them as much as I do, his thigh pressing even harder against mine.
My insides warm as my thoughts run wild…showing me sliding onto Thorne’s lap, my arms around his shoulders, his palm covering my breast, our mouths welcoming each other, tongues dueling as we deepen our kiss until I don’t know where he ends and I begin.
Eyes closed, I pull in the deepest breath I can to calm myself. When I force my lids up, Thorne’s looking at me, his gaze intent, color deepened.
If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he could read my indecent thoughts.
He eases closer to me then stiffens, his gaze darting to the door.
Before I can turn, Thorne swings his legs over the seat and stands. “Excuse me.”
He joins a figure at the door who’s dressed in all black, the hooded cloak masking the stranger’s features. Based on their height and breadth of shoulders, I’m almost positive it’s a man.
They disappear into the darkness.
“If you don’t mind me asking, milady, since it’s none of my business…” Royce lifts his shoulders. “How long have you and Sterling been together?”
My face burns, but I force a laugh. “Me and Thorne? Together?” I wave my hands in front of myself. “No, you have us all wrong.”
Royce sips his ale, his eyes saying he knows I’m lying.
I should leave things at that, but I can’t. “He’s my flight instructor. To be honest, he despises me.”
Royce’s bushy gray eyebrows inch up. “Your definition of despise must be different than mine. That man watches you the way a mutt watches a roast chicken…like he wants to devour you.”
Heat floods my cheeks. I cover my eyes. “That’s…no. You’re mistaken.” Though part of me wishes he weren’t. “We annoy each other, Royce. Thorne’s bossy and loves yanking my chain.”
Poor Royce struggles not to smile. “Whatever yanking your chain is…do you like him doing that?”
Even though I do—because it proves Thorne has some feelings for me, including the mean ones at times—I’ll never admit as much.
I glance around, trying not to linger on the serving girls and men who’re making out as if they’re alone in a bedroom. “So that book you mentioned in your letter. From Peaches? Do you have it with you by chance?”
“Oh, yes, hold on.” Royce hops up, disappears behind the bar, and returns holding a book with deep blue binding. “Strangest thing. The book was sent from Flighthaven. It was addressed to Peaches, care of Royce, and had the tavern name. I figured I should let you know right away, since Leesa…you know. Any word on her whereabouts?”
I stroke the book. “Not yet, but I’m hoping this might help.” Though I’m dying to thumb through the pages in search of clues, I tuck the book into my cloak pocket.
Not a moment later, Thorne reappears at my side, pulling me off the plank seat. “Time to go. Good to meet you, Royce. Don’t worry, Axton and I will make certain your food pantry stays open, the constables and merchants don’t threaten you any longer, and everyone has enough to eat.”
Thorne hands Royce two gold coins for our drinks. It’s entirely too much money, and my heart can’t help but warm a little at the gesture. That warmth dies when he drags me out of the tavern like hellshounds are nipping at our heels and shushes me when I try to ask why.
Something clearly spooked him, but what?