“I’m a street rat. I steal and pilfer to survive. That’s the sort of moral compass people need.” I rolled my eyes, dropping my hands into my lap.
“You carry blades, yet you didn’t draw on the captain.”
I glanced down at my trousers and boots, checking that my blades were safely concealed out of sight where they belonged. A frown creased my brow as I wondered how he knew I carried them.
“Ethyan’s a good shot.”
Truthfully, I had no idea they were up there until the last moment. I hadn’t drawn my blade on Sainte because I trusted him.
Trusted him.
Ugh.
“I understand your hesitation,” he said, examining his oddly clean nails. “Sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to do.”
“Right. I’m done here.” I lurched to my feet. “Lyana, Ethyan, I’m headed out. I’ll meet up later.”
“Wait, El–”
Ignoring Lyana’s call, I stalked toward the door. I wouldn’t hear anymore of this responsibility dung. I owed them nothing, not these soldiers, and not Wynterborne.
“Captain.”
I glanced back to see Sainte step into the dining hall. His cool eyes caught mine, laced with anger and hurt.
It served him right.
My shoulder rammed into the door, shoving it open with all my might. As I stepped into the early evening, a string of curses flew past my lips to soften the pressure building in my chest.
There was still plenty of time to relieve some scum of their coin. Whistling, I strolled through the cooling air, determined not to dwell on someone else’s problems.
I grunted as I hauled myself up the bell tower. Ethyan could do it without breaking a sweat, but my strength didn’t compare. I considered myself more delicate and nimble, more suited for picking pockets rather than scaling towers.
I had a good meal too, courtesy of a lovely chap sleeping on the roadside. When he woke, he’d find a stone where his coin had been. Such was the way of life when one slept on the street in a drunken stupor.
The meat pie sitting in my stomach probably added to my difficulties climbing the tower.
With a huff, I hoisted myself over the ledge, grateful for the sight of a flickering candle casting shadows across our hideout. Lyana sat near it, threading beads onto a strand of her hair. Ethyan lay on his mat, his breathing steady and quiet with sleep, though, knowing him, that peaceful silence wouldn’t last long.
“A good night?” she asked without looking up. She stuck her tongue out in concentration as she secured another bead, tying it off.
“Not too bad. Enough for a meat pie,” I said, tossing her two coins.
“Oh, we ate with the soldiers.”
My positive spirit sank like an anchor.
“Make some new friends?” I snatched my coins back and settled next to her on our mattress.
“Oh, my gods and goddesses! And you complained about my stink this morn!” She pinched her nose and glared at my tattered shirt.
I chuckled as she shoved me off the bed, then rolled onto my belly. My ribs pressed against the wooden planks as I rested my chin on my hands, watching her work.
“Honestly, they’re notthatbad,” she said. “There were a few reserved ones. I didn’t catch their names. But Ethyan had a grand time drinking with Linus and Otto. The two play a fair game of darts, though perhaps not as good as my brother. And Grimm was a joy to play.”
“Did you take all his coin?”
“He earned half it back.”
