“I simply want–”
Her sigh of relief cut my words short. When I turned, she lay sprawled on the bed. With a happy moan, she let the blanket fall aside, revealing every inch of her worn, withered, very naked body. A gag choked my throat, and I scrunched my eyes shut, knowing that image would haunt me for all my days.
“That’s not–” I hissed, clamping a hand over my face for good measure. “I simply want a seat!”
“I can,” she sucked in a slow, wheezing breath, “sleep through anything.”
“Fantastic,” I drawled.
After I cracked my eyes open, I grimaced, then pulled the blankets over her body. She was already snoring. I heaved a sigh and nudged her aside to make room. Before I sat, I eyed her makeshift mattress with a scrunched nose. It probably had things living in it I’d rather not see. Part of me was thankful for the weak lighting. Considering the stench, the sludge-slicked ground didn’t seem a safe bet either.
With a plethora of muttered profanities aimed at Sainte and the problems he caused, I perched on the bed’s edge. Hopefully, whatever diseases infested this place couldn’t travel through fabric. I’d need a soak in the ocean after this. Salt residue be damned. At least I’d be clean.
Chapter 2
Ifrowned as raised voices snared my attention. The hag didn’t stir, but I straightened, tense. I couldn’t make out what was being said, but it was obvious one voice among the others was angrier than the rest. I slipped off the bed and crept to the cloth door, pulling it aside to peek through. It was only midday, and I needed another hour or two of hiding until I could meet up with Lyana and Ethyan. It seemed like this side of the lewd district would be quiet any time of day, but the ruckus had me second guessing that theory.
I dropped the greasy fabric as the voices came closer. They were looking for someone… which didn’t bode well for me.
“What’s this girl of yours look like? She a mirror image of the hag that birthed you?”
Several men burst into raucous laughter at the remark, their amusement mingling with the shuffling steps and the clap of slapping backs in good humor.
“There was a young one.”
Panic threatened to close my throat at the rasped words. So much for confidentiality.
“Fine lady, where–”
Curse that voice. I tore out, rushing past the group. A hand snagged my shirt, tearing it open. I cursed, holding it shut as I sped down the lane.
Just because Sainte never used Common Muik with me, obviously didn’t mean he couldn’t speak it.
Shouts and jeers broke out behind, but I distanced myself quickly. A heavy jingle echoing my every step told me he was on the move, tight on my heels. I scoffed at the idea of being outpaced by anyone, let alone a man in armor, and I pushed myself harder, clutching my shirt together. Not that anyone in this district would bat an eye at some bare skin.
Around the corner, I sidestepped and whirled behind a couple navigating the busy street. Despite a slip on some grime, I maintained balance and lunged ahead. I was born for this. These were my streets, and I cursed the day some outsider caught me.
I was close to the main road. From there, I could make my way anywhere in the city. When I rounded the next bend, I pulled short so fast that my feet slipped from under me, and my arse collided with the hard ground. At the lane’s entrance, a squad of soldiers fixed their gaze on me, unlike any I encountered before. Clad in dark armor that bespoke neither mercenary nor local, they stood out with a striking presence.
“Pig dung and fish guts!” I cursed.
Their heavy jogging steps closed in, and I scrambled to my feet. I dashed between two huts, causing the residents to scatter. Gripping the stone wall, I searched for footholds, only to find the surface slick with grime and soot, denying me any purchase.
“Elspeth.”
“Sainte,” I sneered, drawing out his name as I faced him.
His eyes darted to my shirt, then back to my face as I lifted my chin and crossed my arms, emboldened with defiance. His breaths heaved, though not as heavily as I preferred after the run I just gave him.
“Come with me.”
“No.”
His features flashed with irritation, revealing a side of him I’d never seen before. Perhaps, like me, he had undergone his own growth during our time apart.
“I am not asking.”
“And I’m not negotiating.” I snarled.
