Chapter 5 #3
“Hopefully not the last…” Then he spun me again, the room tilting in a whirl of heat and motion, his laughter rich and full of mirth.
But as I turned, laughing, a moving shadow at the back of the tavern caught my eye.
A heavily cloaked figure strolled through the crowd with a measured, effortless stride, his broad shoulders shifting beneath the thick fabric in ways that were too achingly familiar.
I couldn’t see the individual’s face under his hood, but my stomach twisted all the same.
There was something about the way he walked, the barely restrained power in his demeanor.
No. It couldn’t be.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to laugh as Leoric pulled me close again, his palm sliding down my back until he rested it right at my waist, his fingers curling in—a clear sign he was trying to claim me in front of everyone present.
For some reason, the gesture sparked a sense of unease in me, as if I feared what Jack would think if he were actually here, seeing me this close to Leoric.
But Jack wouldn’t come here, not to this part of the city. Plus, he wasn’t the type to indulge in this kind of revelry. He’d rather brood by a fire with a dram of eldbrann in one hand and a book in the other than endure the raucous noise of a tavern dance.
Still, I couldn’t help the sick feeling that sank into my stomach. I needed to sit down for a bit, needed to catch my breath. I drew closer to Leoric, needing to push up on my toes to reach his ear. “I may have drunk a little more than I should’ve. I need to sit down.”
“Go, I’ll fetch us some fare.”
I stepped away and walked toward the bar, feeling the weight of a heavy gaze on my back.
I thought it might’ve been Leoric, but he was already talking to his sister, clearly ordering us food.
Sitting down, I reached for some water and scanned the tavern, trying to find the mysterious, cloaked individual.
Relief sank into my bones for a moment when I didn’t spot him until my eyes snagged on a darkened corner at the far end of the room.
I swore I saw a pair of frosted blue eyes blink from under a hood.
My heart lurched and I jumped off my chair, but when I tried focusing further, the cloaked figure was missing again.
What the Hel?
A tendril of anger coiled around me. And what if Jack was here, anyway? Why did I care if he saw me with Leoric? I was unclaimed, and Jack was betrothed to a princess. Maybe this anxiety was fueled by all the damn mead I’d ingested. Perhaps it was time I headed home.
Then, a flicker of movement near the back exit caught my attention again, except this time it was Aldric, and he was leading a group of shadowed figures through the door.
My pulse quickened. Where was he taking them?
A scurry of ants ran up and down my spine.
Something felt off. If my brother was up to no good, then I needed to know.
I couldn’t have him involved with dissenters.
The thought of the queen discovering my brother was part of the brewing rebellion…
Gods, I didn’t even want to contemplate the repercussions.
But first, I needed to find out exactly what he was up to.
I placed several coins on the counter, then grabbed my cloak and was about to go after my brother when Leoric returned with a platter of food, his eyes wide when he saw me drape my cloak over my shoulders.
“I’m so sorry, Leo. I must go. Thank you so much for tonight.
You have no idea how much I needed this.
Please. Find me at the palace tomorrow.”
He grabbed my arm. “Wait, what’s wrong? At least let me walk you home.”
I eyed his hand, and he immediately let go. “I’m a big girl. I can walk myself home. The palace. Tomorrow. Thanks again.” I winked at him, then snaked through the crowd and slipped out the back door into the night in search of my brother.
The lower quarter of Isenheim was dangerous at night. But beyond the city walls, past the narrow alleyways and winding streets, beyond the safety of the lantern-lit roads, lay something far worse—the Tanglevein Warrens.
It was a place too cold for hope, and not a place one wandered into by choice.
I had only been here a handful of times, during patrols that left me feeling more like a trespasser than a protector.
Here, the city’s poorest and most desperate souls turned to sordid dealings, where the desolate became bitter, and the bitter became cruel.
It wasn’t hard to see why dissent could fester here.
The resentment was born from the hunger that gnawed at bellies, from the biting wind that rattled through broken shutters, and from the knowledge that no matter how hard you worked, the palace would never see you.
I kept my hood low, trying to blend into the clusters of figures that moved through the slush-ridden streets, my steps swift while I kept to the shadows.
Buildings slumped against one another like drunkards, their wooden frames sagging from rot and neglect.
The stench of filth and damp earth permeated the air as I trailed after Aldric’s silhouette.
Unfortunately for me, despite his limp, my brother was not only fast on his feet, but he was astute, and the way he sped up told me he’d realized he was being followed.
The narrow alleys twisted like veins, dragging me deeper into the district, but I didn’t relent—my need to know what my brother was up to forced me to ignore the warning alarms firing off in my brain.
I turned a corner, the buildings thinning, leading me farther away from the outer walls of the city.
Aldric sped up again, this time pulling a hood over his head and hiding the golden mane I’d been using as a beacon.
I slammed into a passerby, earning an annoyed grunt as I tried to weave faster through the crowd until, in a blink, I lost him.
Shit.
I looked around, feeling disoriented. Taking a moment to assess my surroundings, I realized why I should’ve listened to my instincts when they tried to warn me.
As much as I hated to admit it, right now I missed my uniform.
The simple fact of being a female in this world made walking down any darkened street feel like traipsing through a gauntlet, but at least the royal guard uniform usually offered me a modicum of protection, or at least, the illusion of it.
Dressed in common clothes in this part of the city as a lone female walking down these sketchy paths? The truth slammed hard against my chest: trekking after my brother at this hour and into the Warrens alone had been a terrible idea.
I wanted to blame my poor decision on all the mead I’d drank, but that was merely an excuse, and as the captain of the guard, I should’ve known better than to venture into this side of the city so ill-prepared.
I picked up my pace when I sensed unusual movement hidden in the shadows.
As I walked quicker, the crowd dispersed, and the streets grew quieter—too quiet.
In the daylight, I may have been able to orient myself, to know where I was headed, but right now, with darkness creeping around every corner, the streets and building structures all blended into the same bleak canvass.
Footfalls thudded behind me—multiple sets of footfalls—the sound growing stronger with every step.
I’d gone from being the hunter to becoming the prey.
The heaviness of the penetrating gazes of whoever trailed behind me scraped over my back like claws.
I couldn’t help the shiver that scaled over my skin, and I wasn’t someone who scared easily.
I’d not only trained with my father, but with some of the fiercest warriors in the realm, but I wasn’t stupid enough to think that I could outmatch a group of assailants if I was cornered in any of these alleys, especially with the mead making my limbs feel heavier than usual.
Damn it. I’d literally served myself on a gold platter to whomever was trailing me.
I’d strapped a dagger to my boot before leaving my home, and had I known I would be following my brother into the Warrens, I would’ve made sure to strap on Moonshadow instead. Too late now.
The footsteps grew even closer, so I reached into my boot for my weapon as I rounded another corner. That’s when I realized my mistake.
Fuckers had herded me down a dead-end street.
“Lost, are we?” came a low, taunting voice.
I turned slowly.
Three males blocked the alley’s exit, their faces scrunching in a sneer.
I kept my dagger hidden. Their oversized, badly worn clothes made it hard to discern their true size, but their posture spoke volumes.
They weren’t trained soldiers, though the hard look in their eyes told a story of a life drenched in violence.
The tallest one rolled a small pocketknife between his fingers.
The second, a barrel-chested male, rested a hand on a rusted blade at his hip.
The last and smallest of the three made my insides clench with disgust. The way he appraised me told me he was already scheming the atrocities he would commit against me once his buddies took me down.
My fingers tightened around the hilt of my dagger.
They had numbers to their advantage, but they were sourly mistaken if they thought I’d be easy prey.
The one closest to me cocked a smile. “Where you headed, little mouse? You seem far from home.”
I remained quiet.
“Did the ice freeze your tongue?” he asked with a less amused tone.
I continued to say nothing, shifting my weight slightly, readying myself for their attack.
“I’m going to enjoy making you squeal, little mouse.”
“Wait,” the one standing next to him said. “I think I’ve seen that pretty face before.”
“Shit. I think you’re right. Didn’t recognize her without her pristine uniform. Must say, last thing I’d expected to find was the queen’s new little lapdog out here,” the one who’d called me mouse said, stepping closer. “You shouldn’t have come here, Captain. These are our streets.”