“Because the lazy bastard gets others to do it,” Hwa argued.
“Exactly,”Shen replied. “You’ve traded cooking duties with him, have you not?”
Hwa’s face turned red, piquing Snow’s curiosity all the more.
Shen smiled at Hwa. “We’vealltraded with him. We can’t blame his lack of experience on him. Plus I cooked last night, so everyone is comparing my exemplary meal to this dreck. Perhaps I should teach him a few techniques and help him improve.”
Hwa settled back on his pillow. “I don’t think anything can improve his cooking.”
“Agreed. I vote we allow Lazlo to continue providing his services in exchange for cooking duties from here to eternity,” Owan announced, a lecherous grin growing on his lips. “I’m willing to take his next shift, too.”
“Nay,”Klaus snarled.
“If it gets me out of cooking?” Lazlo asked Klaus, one brow raised high.
Klaus snarled again but didn’t reply. He glared down into his bowl, muttering to himself.
“What kind of services does Lazlo provide to get himself out of cooking?” Snow asked.
The alphas fought smiles but did not answer. Snow gaze went from alpha to alpha, but none replied.
He scoffed. “Fine.Don’ttell me.”
“Lazlo hasmanyskills,” Shen finally said, smirking. “We shall leave it at that.”
Lazlo’s cheeks turned red as the other alphas agreed that he was indeed skilled. At what, Snow wasn’t completely sure—but he had a guess. As an odd tension filled the air, Snow forced a few more bites but couldn’t eat much of the tasteless goop, even as hungry as he was. Luckily Owan’s oatcake he calledbannockwas tasty and filling. The mug of ale Owan handed him was even better.
“Do you all make your own ale?” Snow asked. “It’s delicious.”
“Greer’s recipe. We make several barrels at a time,” Vor replied. “And go through it much too fast for a larder to keep up.”
Greer hefted his mug. “And we save a bit to make a fine brandy I learned off some traveling monks near Francia. I might let you taste some later.”
“Oh! I’ve always wanted to travel to Francia,” Snow said. “What took you there? Were you a merchant before you came here?”
Shen and Owan snickered.
“Shut up, ye,” Greer growled. “Nay, I wasn’t a merchant. I was a… traveler of sorts. I never stayed in one place too long.”
“He was a highwayman,” Shen corrected. “He robbed merchants of their goods and gold. He couldn’t stay anywhere too long or chance being arrested.”
Snow gasped. “You were a bandit?”
Greer rose to his feet and bowed. “One of the best bandits there ever were.”
“Until he attempted to rob the wizard,” Hwa said. “As Klaus mentioned earlier, he might be the only one of us who actually belongs in this prison of ours.”
“The stinkin’ rich get richer while the poor get poorer,” Greer said. “I don’t see the problem in the reallocation of their funds.”
“Did any of those funds actually make it to the poor—or just your own pocket?” Vor asked Greer.
Chapter Seven
Greer chuckled, yet there was a hint of malice in it. “I am poor, meself, but that gold also made its way into the poor aleboy’s pocket or on the poor whore’s nightstand nearly every night. Some nights, theys was one in the same, o’course. I daresay those omegas lived better lives thanks to me and my hard-earned coin—and my hard-rode cock.” Greer barked with laughter and took a deep gulp from his mug, wiping his chin with the back of his sleeve. “I helped me own, too. Alphas, that is. Innkeepers and alesmen from Tavaria to Fuelders have benefitted from my stays in their alpha-owned establishments. I’m a good man, I.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself,” Vor muttered, shaking his head and rolling his eyes.
“I did what I had to do, Vor,” Greer said. “You never knew real suffering like I did.”
