Chapter 19 #2
“Oh, he most certainly did,” Nash said, jerking his head in a quick nod. “It was his legacy money. He wasn’t about to let it slip away.”
Drustan straightened, his expression dark. “It wasn’t just about the money. It was about reclaiming what was stolen. The Glodwoods betrayed him. And they paid for it.”
“With their lives?” Mistel said. “That’s a rather brutal way to settle a debt.”
Drustan’s lips curled into a slow smile. “Justice isn’t always clean, Miss Wepp. Sometimes it takes blood to balance the scales.”
Nash grunted, his gaze flat. “Spoken like a man on Fenris’s payroll.”
“Spoken like a boy who hides behind his father’s name,” Drustan countered.
Mistel glanced between them, heart racing. Were these two friends or enemies?
“We passed the remains of that place on the way here,” Cole said. “It’s completely gone.”
“A warning to anyone who crosses Sir Fenris Yarden,” Drustan said.
Mistel’s stomach churned. Glodwood Manor…That was where the Poroo had attacked, where Cole had spirited her into the trees. Time for a lighter subject. She turned to Nash. “Why do so many people buy boar?”
Nash chuckled. “They’re delicious, but people buy them to hunt.”
How peculiar. “Why hunt something you already own?”
Drustan fixed his dark gaze on Mistel. “For the thrill of the chase.”
She fought back a shiver and looked away from that callous hunx.
“Ever go hunting?” Nash asked.
Mistel shook her head, searching for a way to steer the conversation back to the Black Boar—or maybe Ice Island. “I could never kill an animal. The three of us”—she gestured to Cole and Kurtz—“we’re focused on making a living…and visiting Ice Island.”
Nash’s grin faded. “That’s a prison, not a tourist destination.”
“Oh, I know.” Mistel kept her tone breezy. “But Cole needs to see his uncle.”
“Your uncle works there?” Nash asked.
Cole’s jaw tightened. “No. He’s a prisoner.”
Drustan cackled, his eyes glittering in the candlelight. “Your only living relative is incarcerated? Perfect.” He winked at Mistel.
Gracious! That was rude. And why would he wink about Cole’s uncle being in prison? Or was he simply winking at Mistel? She shot him a glare and turned back to Nash. “There must be a way we could visit.”
“Ice Island doesn’t allow visitors,” Drustan said.
“That’s not entirely true.” Nash draped his elbow over the back of his chair, angling his body to face Mistel. “I can get you in. I’ll speak to Verdot Amal about it.”
Mistel fought the urge to squeal and gave Nash a bright smile. “That’s so kind of you.”
They lingered another hour, Mistel feigning interest in Nash’s boasts while steering attention away from Drustan’s jabs at Cole. When they finally left, she welcomed the cold night air. Its bite was a relief from the suffocating tension of that dining room.
As they rode away from the manor, Mistel and Cole followed Kurtz and Zanna. The setting sun cast a dusky golden glow over everything.
“You were amazing tonight,” Cole told her. “You asked all the right questions.”
“So did you,” Mistel said.
He laughed. “I tried. You succeeded. You’re important to this mission, Mistel. I’m really glad you came.”
A grin spread across her face. “I do think I’m getting the hang of this. Maybe I should visit the Black Boar and talk to Drustan about playing there. Or twist Nash’s arm.”
Silence stretched between them, the horses’ hooves crunching in the snow.
“Stay away from them, Mistel,” Cole said.
Her grip on Bart’s reins tightened. “We’ve been over this, my knightling. I can handle myself.”
“Not with them. Not with Drustan.”
Of all the…Mistel pressed her lips together. Who did Cole think he was to—
“Mistel, please!” he practically yelled.
She blinked at his intensity. Lands, what had gotten him so worked up? “All right,” she said, more to calm him than to agree.
He nodded stiffly. “Thank you.”
She knew he had more to say and likely wouldn’t. Time to pull it out of him in a roundabout way. “Why do you have so little faith in me? I’ve proved myself.”
He opened his mouth to speak, then exhaled. “You have. You’re amazing. But Drustan is a merciless fiend.”
She couldn’t help laugh, which only deepened that wrinkle between Cole’s brows. “Mercy. That’s harsh. I’ve met hunxes like Drustan before. He’s rude but harmless.”
“No, Mistel. Drustan was…sort of my stepbrother. Though he’d probably say I was their stray. Their slave.”
Mistel’s thoughts spun. Stray? But that meant Cole was an orphan. The tension between him and Drustan suddenly made sense. Cole had never mentioned his parents. Was this why? He’d lived with Drustan’s family? “What did he do to you?”
Silence.
Mistel couldn’t take it. “Cole…?”
“When I lived with the Fawsts,” he said, “Drustan and his brother Fen were much older. They didn’t just fight me. They enjoyed hurting me. I was never without a bruise, cut, or burn. They stole my food too, so I was always hungry.”
Mistel’s chest ached for him. She could almost see the small, battered boy he’d been, and wanted to reach for his hand. But she didn’t dare on this side saddle. She merely listened, captivated by this rare glimpse into his past.
“I had a puppy, runt of the litter. Nonda—that’s Drustan and Fen’s mother—she threw it outside, left for dead. I found him, fed him, named him Peat since he was the color of peat moss. He was my…my best friend.”
“Oh, Cole.” Mistel squeezed the reins. She knew, deep down, that this story was going to end badly.
“One day, I got Drustan in trouble, and he and Fen came after me. They killed Peat. Made me watch.”
Mistel’s breath hitched. She rubbed her gloved fingers to her throat. “What did their mother do?”
“Nothing.”
“What? Why?”
“She didn’t like me either,” Cole said. “Or the dog.”
“They sound like monsters,” Mistel whispered.
“They were. And I don’t think Drustan has changed.”
Mistel recalled the glint in Drustan’s eyes. He did seem to be waiting for the right moment to strike. “I’ll be careful around him. I promise.”
“Thank you.”
She let the silence stretch, the sound of their horses’ hooves over the mushy snow filling the void until, “You never told me you were an orphan.”
“My surname is Tanniyn. I figured it was obvious.”
Should have been. Children in Er’Rets who had no parents were given an animal surname to mark them as strays, though sometimes it also happened when a child was abandoned or…“But some have animal surnames because their parents disowned them, like Sir Eagan.”
“I’m an orphan,” Cole said. “My earliest memories are with my uncle. He was a soldier, and whenever he got called out, he’d leave me with Nonda, who he was seeing at the time.
She hated me. As did her sons. They hated having to share food with me.
Hated sharing air in their tiny house. One day, Uncle Crispen never came back, and eventually Nonda sold me to Lord Yarden. Lucky for me, life got better then.”
Mistel let the weight of his words settle in her heart.
She’d always known Cole carried scars, but hearing the plain and unembellished truth twisted her stomach.
It wasn’t just the cruelty of his past but how he’d survived it.
He wasn’t bitter, didn’t let it define him.
Instead, he’d carved out a life, clever and resilient, without needing to be the loudest voice in the room.
She studied him in the golden light—sandy brown hair, freckled cheeks, calm composure, quiet strength. She now saw the effort it took him, and she admired him more than she could say.
Drustan, on the other hand…Mistel had half a mind to let loose on that hunx the next time he opened his obnoxious mouth.
She nudged Bart closer to Cherix and lowered her voice. “You know, Cole, I think you’re incredible.”
His brow furrowed. “What?”
“The way you live. The way you are. You don’t need to boast like Nash or wound like Drustan. You’re just…you. It’s admirable. And it makes me want to be a better person.”
Cole turned to her, a smile tugging at his mouth. “Good, because you’re stuck with me.”
Mistel chuckled, adjusting her reins. “It is good. Thank you for letting me stay.”
Cole let out a breath that was almost a laugh. “Thank you for following me.”
“Anytime,” she said.
She would have liked to have kissed him then. For now, the quiet closeness of the long ride back to Fat Vandy’s was enough. There would be time for more later.