Page 80 of Fate's Wicked Oath

She folded her arms, scowling at Mariana. “Do you not remember my name?”

Mariana sprawled on a bar stool and slurped the foam from her ale. “Hattie,” she enunciated. “You know what I’m here for.”

“Do I?” Hattie descended the rest of the stairs, her blue eyes sweeping over Faren. “You aren’t a Valiant Knight.”

Faren dipped his chin, bracing for what would come next.

Hattie’s expression broke open, eyebrows shooting up, mouth parting. “Faren?”

“You know him?” Anya asked.

Hattie nodded. “He’s the Mighty Knight who tried to kill—”

“Me,” came another voice—this time from behind Faren.

Two men stood in the doorway: one light skinned, huge, and muscular; the other lean, with wavy hair and rich brown coloring. The second was the one who’d spoken, though Faren had no recollection of him.

“I—excuse me?” Faren asked, startled by Hattie’s accusation. “You must be mistaken, I don’t recall—”

“I intervened by threatening you,” Mariana piped up helpfully. “Do you recallthat?”

“You’ve threatened me numerous times,” Faren pointed out tightly. “You’ll have to narrow it down.”

Mariana bounced her eyebrows. “Fenrir City. This past spring. My boot on your neck.”

Realization strangled Faren almost as much as her boot had.

The last time Faren had seen this man, he’d been obscured by a cloak and doubled over in an alley, shaking and groaning, on the verge of succumbing to what Faren had assumed was a monster bite. Phina Farkept and Mariana had intervened before Faren could put the man out of his inevitable misery.

Faren studied him now, standing tall in the doorway, arms relaxed at his sides, appearing healthy and entirelynormal. “I thought you were beyond saving.” Faren’s voice was a murmur, rough and apologetic. “But you survived.”

“No thanks to you,” Mariana quipped, already halfway through her ale.

He glared at her, then turned back to the man. “My sincerest apologies.” Faren did not regret his actions—it was his duty to protect the citizens of Fenrir, and a monster running loose would’ve been a disaster—but he was mortified, nonetheless. “I thought…I mean, I’m glad to see you…”

“Alive and not a monster?” the man replied.

Faren nodded. It wasn’t often he felt tongue-tied.

“Duty blinds even the best knights,” the man said forgivingly. He walked over to Hattie and snaked his arm around her waist. “Besides, it all worked out in the end.” She smiled up at him, lashes fluttering.

Faren remembered more of that night. Hattie had interrupted the standoff, proffering a bottle of Hylder tincture, which was known for combating the spread of the disease.

“That’s generous of you.” Faren put some amiability back into his voice, finding his social footing once more. “Faren Hayward.” He held out his hand for the other man to shake.

After a beat of hesitation, he did. “Noble.”

Faren stifled a cough. “Noble…Asheren?”

Noble winced, as if the name was not the honor Faren knew it to be.

“Your father—”

“—is General Asheren of the King’s Mighty Legion,” Noble finished for him.

“Fucking Fates,” Faren swore. “I almost killedGeneral Asheren’s son?”

“I appreciate whatever sense of celebrity you feel toward him,” Noble said, “but we are not on good terms. You attempted something even my father has considered on more than one occasion. I do not begrudge you for adhering to your Oath-bound duty.”