Bannog sighs, moving his fancy tea setawayfrom me. “Not much, really. Only that he was soappalledthat you would dare bring a “filthy dung girl” to his oh, so clean tavern. His words.”
My left eye twitches, and then my claws slip from my gloves, creating gouges on his polished table.
“Careful. That is mahogany.”
I shake my head, then retake my seat, trying to calm my erratic heart. It won’t stop pounding, and I rack my brains for every manner of Fae that Stannog could have talked to about Ivy, kicking myself for my carelessness.
I never should have taken her to his shitty tavern. There’s a price on her head. Anexpensiveprice, and I am such an idiot for trusting him.
Now all kinds ofilkwill want to get their hands on Ivy.
“Don’t fret. Your secret is safe with me. I haven’t told a single soul, and I don’t plan to.” Bannog winks, grabbing the pot again as he goes to fill another cup of tea. “Tea?” he asks when he notices my staring.
I roll my eyes. “Fine. So long as you tell me what else you know. What has Stannog told you, exactly, about that night in question?”
The ogre’s eyes flash as he twirls his teaspoon clockwise. “Ooh, do I smell abargain?”
I tighten my lips, making a mental note to be more careful with my choice of words in the future.
I just made an unintentional bargain over a sip of fucking chamomileteaof all things. I'm such a dullard.
What more could he want from me? I’ve already given him my body weight in gold for one of his glamours.
That’s when my charming host chuckles, waving his hand in dismissal. “It’s okay. I don’t require much. Only that you promise not to lose your temper.”
I give him a withering look as he finally hands me my cup of tea. He really knows how to get under one’s skin, doesn’t he? Yet it’s a reasonable enough request, so I acquiesce. “All right. Whatelsedid he tell you?”
The ogre lounges in his wingback chair, choosing his next words wisely. “Well, according to Stannog’saptdescriptions, she’s the exact image of the missing princess.”
Another growl escapes me, and Bannog lifts his teapot away. “What did I tell you? No losing your temper.”
Breathing steadily through my nose, I curb my temper long enough to take another leisurely sip of tea. It tastes like ash in my mouth.
When I’m finished, I place the cup onto the table with its saucer, speaking through clenched teeth. “So…whatelsedid he have to say about her?”
There were plenty of eyewitnesses in that tavern that night. If not Stannog, then someone else could have easily reported her to the royal guard.
If I ever find them, I’ll kill them.
Bannog exhales, placing his cup onto the table next to mine. “Look, Tegwyn… May I call you Tegwyn?”
I snort, “It beatsdung...”
Bannog chuckles. “I know we’re strangers, and although you have what could be described as astrainedrelationship with my cousin,he does care about you. In his roguish, offbeat way. I believe you’ve known him since you were a boy, right?”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
I first met Stannog after I left the farm. I’d needed somewhere to stay, and he had offered me a place in his basement.
For aprice, of course.
In order to earn my keep, I had to work behind his bar every night and serve his dirty punters. The entire time, he had told me that I reeked of dung and that I needed a bath.
I was raised by humans, so it went without saying, but I suppose Bannog’s right—Stannog is like the uncle I never asked for.
“He had me pumping taps, but he wouldn’t let me have a single drop of ale until I came of age. I had to ‘earn it’ first.”
Bannog smiles. “See, he does care about you. I know he’s foul, and hislanguage…” The ogretsks. “I know he’s my cousin, but we’re more like brothers at times. So, any friend of Stan’s is a friend of mine. It’s clear you care for this girl, so you have my word.”
