“So much. Thank you. I haven’t painted since I lost my home. I was dreaming about it last night.”
His eyes narrow and his smile fades. “That’s right. New Stygarde left you homeless.”
“Yes,” I say sadly. It’s not a lie, just not the truth he thinks it is.
“That dark elf cunt who sits on the throne is nothing but an extension of Entrydal’s rule,” he seethes, and it’s thefirst time I’ve seen Jaqual without a smile on his face. “The elves have infiltrated almost every district with their tyranny. They steal children and turn any who resist to ash. And now, they’re trying to limit my people’s freedom, as if anyone in the history of time has successfully chained the neck of a Rivertoad.”
“I agree, but what can we do to stop them?” I ask softly.
We sway to the music, and for a moment, his lips twitch and I think he’ll make a joke, but he doesn’t. “We’ve heard rumors along our travels of a prophecy,” he whispers. “The one who tames the dragon will rule this world.” He studies me, his gaze lingering long enough to make me uncomfortable.
When I sense the song winding to a close, I say, “Don’t you think we might wait forever for such a savior? Maybe… Maybe we should be doing more to resist.”
The corners of his eyes wrinkle. “It seems like you’ve put some thought into this.”
I glance at Damien, who is watching me like a bird of prey from his perch at our table. “The truth is that my friends and I were hoping to hire some men to help us avenge Covellton. Do you know who we can talk to about that?”
He slants a knowing smile at me, a cunning smile, like I’ve somehow stepped into his trap. But how could I have? I’ve told him nothing. “You want to hire mercenaries to…avenge your burned village? You think you can take New Stygarde with mercenaries and a few townsfolk?”
The eye hanging around his neck blinks. What did he say about it being a trick of the light? “We have an idea—a way to help not just our village rebuild but all of Tenebris.Would you like to have a drink together?” I tip my head in the direction of our table. “If you could connect us with your leader, someone who can discuss a coordinated effort?—”
He cuts me off with a laugh and grabs my upper arm. The music stops. Everyone turns to stare at us. “You want to talk to the Rivertoad king about a coordinated response against New Stygarde? That’s a lofty ambition for a simple peasant girl who’s just lost her home.”
“Release my cousin immediately,” Damien says. When did he move across the room? Although my disguise still holds, and he looks like Marquis, his threat outweighs his size. The tip of Dawnbreaker is way too close to Jaqual’s throat not to be perceived as a risk, and Damien manages the weight of the weapon in one hand, something a starving shade as slender as Marquis could never do.
Jaqual’s gaze slowly drops from me to the weapon, and he releases my arm, holding up a hand between us. That cunning, lopsided smile is back. “Easy. You don’t want to make trouble. Rivertoads don’t take kindly to threats from outsiders,” Jaqual says softly. “Especially not against their king.”
“Their king?” I repeat, but I know instantly that he’s referring to himself.
“And I’m willing to bet you are no helpless peasant girl.” He glares at me, that eye winking again. Everyone is still staring. Everyone. Many of the men have drawn weapons that reflect the candlelight ominously.
I place my hand on Damien’s blade and push it aside. “Put this away. He isn’t going to hurt me.”
Damien reluctantly slides Dawnbreaker back into his scabbard but never takes his eyes off Jaqual.
“Please forgive my cousin,” I say. “We’ve been through so much trauma at the hands of New Stygarde, it’s hard to tell friend from foe. I’d like to think you’re a friend, Jaqual. Am I wrong?”
Jaqual’s gaze slides from holding Damien’s stare back to me. I raise my eyebrows, my hands clasped in front of my hips, my entire demeanor soft, warm, feminine. All the while the bond between Phantom and me tightens like a guitar string ready for me to pluck. I could have us out of here in thirty seconds if need be.
“Of course we’re friends,” he says through a smile. With a wave of his hand, he gestures for the others to back down. There’s a clatter as the dancers put away their weapons. Slowly, the music starts again. Jaqual turns to Damien. “Your cousin suggested you’re in the market to hire protection.”
“More or less,” Damien says.
Jaqual leans back on his heels, sliding his hands into the pockets of his breeches. “Stay another night in the wagons we’ve assigned you. I will send someone to you to discuss our fees.” He offers me a bow, so much more formal than he was before with me, and his talisman winks in the candlelight. He strides from the tent, the other Rivertoads acknowledging him with a bow or wave as he passes.
“Way to endear yourself to the community, Damien,” I whisper for his ears only as we stride back to the table. “We’re supposed to be creating new allies, not forging new enemies. We have enough of those, in case you’re keeping count. Holding a sword to the king’s neck seems like a poor way to do that.”
“He grabbed you.”
“I was handling it.”
“Did you know he was king?”
“Of course not.”
“I did not like the way he was looking at you.”
“Grow up. This isn’t the eighth-grade cafeteria.” I send Damien a sharp glare and slide onto the bench beside Warbill.
