“I thinkthatis funny.”
I followed the angle of his nod to the opposite corner of the table, where Fischer clutched at one cheek with both hands; even from here I could see a dark bruise blooming up between his fingers, blood dripping down his jaw.
The Captain jerked his chin at the doorway to the tavern.
“Your cousin throws a hell of a punch.” He took a long sip from his tea and glared out broadly at the table of soldiers. “She could teach some of these useless creatures a thing or two.”
“Isn’t thatyourjob?”
Another swell of jeering, and some of the men shoved playfully at the scowling, bleeding brute, one of them prying his hands away so I could see a purpling mark in the vague shapeof Sorcha’s fist. Pride stoked at my gently crackling Flame as I watched Fischer squirm and swear, and for just a moment, I let my magic rise into a steady, consuming fire.
“It’s not good enough,” I decided.
The Captain’s low laugh slowed, and he tore his eyes away from the struggling, beet-faced deputy. He considered me, and seemed to come to some conclusion, the twitch of his scar the only sign that he was suppressing a smile.
“And what wouldyouhave me do, Rosie?”
“Rosaleen.”
He inclined his head in lazy apology. I matched it with a lazy shrug.
“I want him out.”
Despite the nervous thrum wracking my body, my voice was low and dangerous even to my own ears. Yet still he said nothing for a long moment. Just stared at me as I struggled not to shift under his gaze, and willed my magic to behave. He drummed his fingers on the table and I swore the cadence of it echoed the racing of my heart.
“Fischer,” he called finally.
The soldiers around the deputy ceased shoving at him, and he stilled like a startled animal, eyes wide as they found the Captain’s grim smile.
“Pack your bags, Deputy. You’ll be heading back to Kingsborough this afternoon. You can hand in your cloak at the castle.”
“Hand in my cloak? Captain —” Fischer spluttered in a reedy, pleading voice.
The Captain ignored him.
“Anything else?”
It wasn’t until he fixed that brisk gaze on me that I realised my mouth was hanging open, and hastily snapped it shut. His brow rose, eyes steady on mine. The unwavering eye contact set my magic shifting uncomfortably beneath my panicked pulse. I had to look away for a moment, and when my roving eyes found Madame Bracken’s, she offered what I could onlydescribe as an encouraging scowl.
Put your foot down.
I squared my shoulders.
“Yes, actually.”
I stepped back and gestured at the room; rings of dark tea staining the oak table while the stack of coasters remained untouched in the centre of the table. Berries burst underfoot were smeared in streaks and bootprints all over the floor. Spilled soup had cooled in sticky globs dotted across both the flagstone and tabletop.
“I’m an innkeeper. Not a stable master. This is my home and I want your men to show an ounce of respect for it. Not to mention for their fellow guests.”
Madame Bracken grinned savagely, but the newlywed bride whimpered, her husband sliding down in his seat to avoid attention. The Captain’s brows twitched minutely upward, but I ploughed on.
“And no more daily laundering. If you’re going to spring double the guests on me, they can share their bedding. Or better yet, they can wash their own reeking sheets. I’m not a laundress.”
“No, most certainly not,” the Captain drawled. He paused and leaned back in his seat, let his gaze drift over me until my Flame shivered. “You’re aninnkeeper. I heard you loud and clear.”
I thought I caught an odd inflection on the wordinnkeeper, almost a note of skepticism.It’s just his accent, I told myself. So, I shoved my paranoia down and gave a curt nod.
“Good,” I said, and nodded at the wide-eyed soldiers around us. “Then get your men in line.”
