29. How do you lose a princess? #2
Malakai rolled his eyes and sighed. “How else would you prefer I explain it? That feisty Odessan broad slit a couple of shifter necks and solved our problem? She’s fine, if that’s what’s got a stick up your ass. Being plied with thanks and food at the Wench.”
“Watch your mouth about her,” was all Maksym bit back before he was traveling in a determined line back down the street, kicking up dirt in his wake.
There was a slim chance he’d forgotten I was with him.
I was left hurrying after his miserably long strides again, calling after him to no avail, until he was pushing past two men on the steps of the tavern and through the door.
Considering the time of day, The Busty Wench had a modest crowd already, sleepy faces dotted around at tables, cradling steaming mugs around plates of buns.
Not the usual fodder housed on these tables by any means.
The doors rarely opened until at least high noon, when a steady flow of ale and stew started.
But across the dim space, Enora was sitting at a table with the tavern’s owner, Bryer, cradling her own mug. Even though her face and white blouse were both splattered with blood, she looked uninjured, and relief coursed through me.
If only the same could be said for Maksym.
He was charging straight towards Enora, and I feared he’d break right through the table before Gallan intercepted him.
“My liege,” Gallan said with a tight smile as he grasped Maksym by the shoulders and attempted to break his narrowed line of focus. He was also covered in blood. “So lovely of you to join us this morning. You too, Jas.”
Maksym was not having any of it. “You brought her here?”
“Ah, well.” Gallan winced. “Yes, I did. Rather, she was planning on walking here from the Keep, on her own, unarmed, before sunrise. And I knew how catastrophic that combination could be, so…I chaperoned her.”
“I’ll deal with you after.” Maksym brushed Gallan to the side and kept on his determined path.
The Elixia cast me an exasperated look. “Fuck me.”
“Oh, you are so fucked,” I muttered as I watched Maksym approach the table and toss his hands to either side. “How was she?”
Gallan sighed wistfully. “Pretty damn incredible. A little shaken after, because, well…” He shook his head. “It was a lot. But she’s fine now. In that regard, at least. But she’s got a lot of pretty concerning feelings about…other things.”
Those other things needed no explanation, and I let a weary-looking Gallan slip away. From a distance, it was clear Maksym and Enora had fallen right into hurling unpleasant words back and forth at each other, and Bryer left the table in a hurry.
That was my cue to supervise, lest they try to maim one another.
“…have you ever heard of cell fever, Maksym? Isolation sickness?” Enora asked before played-up realization settled on her face. “Silly me. Of course you have! All that time imprisoned and whatnot by your dear old man. It’s a really fucking miserable feeling, isn’t it?”
Goddess, that was a harsh dig.
“What are you getting at?”
Enora simply shrugged. “I needed to get out.”
“You. Needed. To. Get. Out.” Maksym enunciated each word like she spat lunacy at him. “And you couldn’t have waited until a reasonable time of day and just asked someone? Me? Jasper? Eilir?”
A slow smile spread over Enora’s blood-spattered face.
“No, I couldn’t. And while we’re on that topic, I’ve decided I don’t want to see either of your two faces until after the Agōn Ferr.
” Her voice, usually fully colored with any emotion, was unnervingly neutral.
“Unless, of course, you’d like to both keep fucking with my head so badly, I make a fatal mistake in one of my trials.
I mean, that would really be a problem solved for everyone, wouldn’t it?
So, ultimately, it’s up to you. But seeing as my remaining sliver of autonomy will be utterly destroyed the moment I become your property—sorry, wife—I’d love it if you respected this one last wish. ”
I had to make a concerted effort to keep my jaw from going slack.
This was an unfamiliar side of Enora, and I did not like it one bit.
Not that my friend of days long past would shy from confrontation.
It just never came with such brutal calculation.
She’d been factual and a touch sarcastic in her youth, but never so nasty.
I could tell Maksym didn’t like it either, from the way his body formed a taut line beside me and how pronounced the veins were in his clenched fist.
“But your training is—”
“Don’t worry about that.” She took another large gulp from her tankard of tea. “Gallan offered to step in until the events officially start, and I’ll keep studying with Eilir. I think that’ll be better for everyone involved.”
Maksym’s mouth clamped shut, and a muscle feathered in his jaw.
“Anything to add, mage?” the princess drawled.
I stiffened, and my attention snapped back to Enora.
Mage? Oh, Mina help me. Whatever had transpired over these last few days officially had irreparable written all over it, and I’d been the goddess-damned catalyst, all because I couldn’t keep my fucking cool in the archives.
“No,” I sighed, and Enora gave me a curt nod.
“Incredible. Don’t let me keep you from whatever important business I’m sure the both of you have that doesn’t involve being here. Gallan will step us both back when he’s feeling up to it.”
To my horror, Maksym turned and walked away from Enora without another word. If there was one thing my king never walked away from, it was a being with an attitude problem. He lived for doling out a vicious cutting down, for seeing someone set squarely back into the place they belonged.
But his avoidance of engaging with Enora only meant one thing:
We were all unfathomably fucked.