Total pages in book: 204
Estimated words: 193124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 193124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
“He’s going to get you killed.” Julion glares at the other man. “Because he’s going to desert you when it’s convenient for him or he gets a better offer. That’s what men like him do.”
“You don’t know me, jyrth.”
I nearly gasp. Not because I’m particularly lady-like—but because even after all my years at the Gauntlet, I’ve only ever heard that word used once before.
Julion does gasp, and rears up on his spine, like a prized stallion coming to attention. Maybe because one of its shod hooves touches excrement.
“I beg your pardon.”
“You can beg for whatever you want,” Merc drawls. “And something tells me you’re probably the kind whose preferences run in that vein. But pardon isn’t something you’re getting from ‘a man like me,’ now or ever, and especially when you’re in my way.”
With a slow, steady draw, Merc unsheathes his broadsword and then begins to idly flip the massive weapon in the air, like it weighs no more than a stick. Each time he catches the hilt, it smacks against his hand, and I’d be willing to bet my virtue, he’s picturing himself paddling Julion’s butt each time the sound rings out through the trees. Or worse.
Oh, wait, I’ve already bartered with my virginity.
“Do you honestly expect me to be impressed by this show?” Julion says with hauteur.
“Well, mine’s bigger than yours, so yes, I do—”
“Can you each please stop,” I say with exhaustion. Then I turn to Julion. “Thank you, for rescuing us—”
“I rescued myself,” Merc cuts in.
My eyes narrow in his vicinity. “And I’m about to toss you back into that moat if you don’t cut out the instigating.”
His smile is devilish, and he lowers his voice into a stage whisper. “I’d like to see you try. At the very least, I’d enjoy the effort—and I’d make sure you did, too.”
I’m muttering under my breath as I refocus on Julion. “Thank you for your concern, and your timely rope.”
“Where are you going?” Julion asks.
Merc cuts in front of my voice: “That’s none of your concern—”
As I shoot another glare at him, he gets precious, making a little zip-the-mouth, throw-away-the-key motion over his lips. Then he shoots a shimmy in Julion’s direction.
For a moment, I picture Merc getting eaten by balas after all, while I ride off into the horizon with a golden nobleman who’s been so kind.
Julion clears his throat. “So be it, then. But before we part, I will have a word with you.” Though I do not meet his eyes, I can sense the nasty look he sends Merc. “Alone.”
Twenty-Three
An Invitation Politely Declined.
“He is very protective of you, I shall give him that.”
As Merc walks off, his massive shoulders part the orange and red foliage, which appears brown and purple due to the makeshift blue veil I look out of. Even after I can’t see him anymore through the trees, I can still sense his presence. Then again, convincing him to leave was harder than getting us out of the moat.
In the silence that follows, my fingertips trace the silver detailing on one of the outer jacket’s sleeves. They’re so long, the hems hang over my hands, but I’m glad for the warmth.
“He is.” Then, even though I know what this is about, I ask the knight, “What is it you wish to speak to me about.”
“I need your help.”
When Julion doesn’t immediately continue, my eyes shift over to his gold breastplate. My distorted reflection stares back at me, the blue turban and the veil, and the silver stitching on the togs, presenting a picture that looks nothing like who I was back inside the wall of my village. This is good camouflage, I tell myself, but not so good that I can remain anywhere near my home.
And then it dawns on me. Julion is alone. I have a thought that he must be good with the—yes, it is smaller—sword that’s holstered in a bejeweled sheath at his hip. The trip down from Prosperitus is fraught with thieves and bandits, and for certain, he must be confident of his ability to defend himself.
And successful at doing so.
“Tell me,” I prompt in a low voice.
“I saw what you did to the dragon.” There’s a pause, as if Julion wants me to confirm what he witnessed. When I stay silent, he continues, “I have heard of you, a young woman on the fringes of the Prosperitus territory, who can bring people out of the cave of death—”
“That is not me,” I lie. “I cannot do anything for you—”
“There’s a threat that we face in this Kingdom, one that comes in the darkness, from out of the failing Fulcrum. Surely you have heard the talk. Or perhaps you have seen the carcasses in these very woods.”
“You know of our dead cows all the way up in Prosperitus?” I find that hard to believe—