“Unless they’re looking for an excuse to make up,” said Ollie, eliciting a series of choked laughs from Thraigg.
The flush in Cedric’s cheeks deepened, his eyes glassy, and Elyria found herself wondering just how many drinks deep he’d already been when she came across the knight. He pressed his lips together in a quivering line—like he was trying very hard to maintain his already-inebriated composure.
“Stars a-fucking-bove, the three of you together are a right menace,” huffed Elyria, though her irritation was already quickly draining away.
“Join us in our game?” Tristan suggested.
“Yes!” Cedric exclaimed, the word so uncharacteristically buoyant that it pushed all remaining annoyances from Elyria’s mind.
She had to work to maintain the look of disapproval plastered on her face as she flicked her gaze to Cedric’s now-empty mug. “The Lord Victor is all out of drink, and I highly doubt he needs another.”
“Who are ye, his mammy?” Thraigg said with a snort, and both Tristan and Ollie erupted in a fit of snickers, which only served to draw Cedric in further. The knight laughed—truly laughed, the sound wafting over Elyria, warming her bones.
“Four fucking hells.” She shook her head. “Fine. What are we playing?”
Tristan held up a short stack of cards. “Dynasty’s Reign. Have you played before?”
“I’m sure I can pick it up.”
“Very good.” The scar on Tristan’s cheek stretched with his grin as he shuffled the cards between his hands. “Loser has to clear out the stables at King’s Keep.”
Elyria arched a brow. “You do realize none of us work at the palace?Youdon’t even work at the palace.”
“Details,” he said with a shrug. “These two already agreed to my terms.”
Ollie laughed. “Yes, but you never actually told me what I get if I win?”
“Didn’t seem relevant, since you haven’t been winning.” Tristan arched his brow. “What would you want?”
Ollie gave the knight a suggestive once-over. “Oh, I can think of a few things.”
Tristan’s eyes twinkled in that roguish way of his. “I’m willing to work out the details later.”
Elyria’s cider nearly came out of her nose.
“Well, boyos, if we’re to play another round, weneedanother round,” said Thraigg, slapping the table with gusto. “And let’s make it a good one. I’ll have ye both come help me this time.”
Ollie clapped the dwarf on the shoulder as the three of them ambled over to the bar, leaving Elyria and Cedric alone in the booth. The surrounding space suddenly seemed very quiet, despite the continued activity in the tavern.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then, they both did.
“Elyria, there’s something?—”
“I know I’ve been?—”
Cedric laughed, his rosy cheeks swelling as he smiled. “Ladies first.”
“No, what were you going to say?”
“Do you remember our discussion from before we—” He cleared his throat, swaying in his seat. “When I mentioned the records from Paideus? Of the princess’ sylvan nanny we suspected is the one who snuck her away before Malakar’s coup?”
Elyria nodded, mentally sidestepping the coiling sensation she felt behind her navel at the not-quite-mention of their kiss in the hall. “Of course.”
“The records finally arrived from Magister Yvan this morning.”
Elyria sat up straighter. “And? Did they reveal a name? A location? Do you know where to start looking?”
