Page 6 of Fate's Wicked Oath

“I welcome the honor of your trust in this delicate matter.”

“I seek a knight with unwavering courage, determination, and confidence.”

Faren couldn’t help but lift his chin. Smile. “I am your man.”

From behind him came a snort. “Suck his cock already, would you?” a female voice taunted.

Shocked by the crude insubordination, Faren swiveled—

—and his breath lodged in his throat.

Because sauntering into the throne room, dressed in all black, was the only person on the continent truly capable of shaking Faren’s confidence.

3

Mission

Mariana

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Faren muttered.

“Aw, miss me?” I said, halting beside the gold brute and elbowing him behind the edge of his breastplate, right in the ribs.

He took a single step to the side, away from me, and looked to Oderin, a bit wild-eyed. Confused.Excellent. I didn’t know what sort of meeting I’d barged into, but I relished the way it seemed to shake Faren Hayward’s confidence. He deserved to be humbled, and I was happy to provide.

“I would say I’m sorry to interrupt”—my voice echoed in the hushed, cavernous hall—“but that would be a lie.”

Though Lord Haron had to be at least sixty, he appeared small and childish in his oversized throne and silly clothes. The flawlessness of his skin—no doubt the result of some strange alchemy—paired with his rotten-toothed grin was rather hideous. The entire room reeked of his fowl body odor and cloying perfume.

“Mariana Bellkeep,” Lord Haron intoned. “A displeasure, as always.”

I pointed one toe and spread my arms in a mock bow. “The displeasure’s all mine.”

Faren stifled a stunned cough.

Lord Haron had a reputation for toying with his subjects, demanding supplication. It was famously known that he threw innocent civilians in the dungeon simply for speaking out of turn, or making eye contact at the wrong moment, or for not licking his ridiculous shoes in a manner to his liking.

As my neck was already pinned squarely beneath the Lord’s heel, I didn’t bother with such tedium. We both knew I was more useful if I was killing monsters than rotting in a cell, and—like Heris—the Lord knew better than to keep his best weapons locked up.

“I’ve traveled a long way for you to keep me in suspense,” I said. “What’s this about?”

Behind me, someone cleared their throat. Ivan, still lingering.

The Lord took note of his presence and flapped his wrist dismissively. “Someone see the man paid for his trouble.”

I scowled. Had I known that Ivan was to be compensated for escorting me here, I would’ve demanded he reward me a commission for my willingness to come peacefully—but it was too late now. A squire was already showing him out.

I turned back to the Lord, wanting to escape the cloying heat of this gaudy, Fates-forsaken hall as quickly as possible. The air was stuffy and smothering, as was the company. “The sooner you clarify your need of me, the sooner I can see it done.”

The Lord chuckled a softha, ha, ha. “I do commend your eagerness to please, Mariana,” he said. “I have a mission for you.”

“So it would seem.”

The Lord gripped the armrests of his chair and sat forward. “Faren Hayward will be traveling to Yar-on-Gray to investigate the failure of your Order.”

Fuck.

Fuck.