Page 110 of Crown of the Courtesan

“Useless, the lot of them. Can’t even catch a few louts dragging off some lass,” another patron gripes. “Probably too scared of the royal consequences.”

“Damn the consequences! None of this would be happening if the king were still alive! He’d keep his brother in check!”

Beatrix’s hand finds mine, squeezing tight.

“It’s only a matter of time before they circle back around to snatch those who are left. I won’t even let my wife leave the house until this clears up.”

“Ralph, don’t be stupid—this problem isn’t going to clear up on its own. We’re headed for dark days, we are…”

After the disgruntled men leave, we finish our ale and drop a few copper coins. Once outside, Beatrix exhales shakily. “Goddess above. We shouldn’t have left the girls alone.”

“They aren’t alone. The orcs are there.”

“Yes, but⁠—”

An icy wind whips through the narrow alley, biting through my layers. I tighten my cloak’s fastening when Beatrix’s eyes widen. I whip around to find a hulking form blocking the threshold. My heart lodges in my throat as a weathered man in a tattered and stained overcoat steps forward.

“You two shouldn’t be out here,” he croaks as the lamppost’s light reflects off his scraggly head. “Haven’t you heard? It’s not safe for little girls anymore.” My fingers grip the hidden dagger, my body going rigid. He takes a long look at us. “The priestess had silver eyes just like yours, witchblood. You’d better be careful, or they’ll take you next!”

An eerie whistle echoes between the leaning buildings as Beatrix’s long nails dig into my arm, spurring me to move.

Forty-Eight

Earlier this morning, when the orcs presented skinned-and-butchered venison to Verity, her face wrinkled with delight. Now the savory aroma of steak and potatoes permeates the dining room as we devour our supper. Utensils happily clink against plates, and despite their drooping shoulders and faint bruises, an air of contentment surrounds the sleepy girls.

After two days of training, everyone has worked up an appetite—so much so that Beatrix doesn’t bother correcting the girls when they talk with their mouths stuffed, bragging about the damage they did to each other.

Near the crackling of the hearth, the youngest of the girls performs a high kick, nearly toppling into the flames before Rett snatches her up. The others hardly flinch, too engrossed in their conversations. There are mentions of favorite techniques, the ache in their muscles, and the relief of washing off the dirt and sweat.

Tomorrow is our last night here before we leave. I’m disappointed by the thought of not being here to continue their training, but they will have to persevere without me. Pleasant chatter carries on until eventually the empty plates are cleared and the pupils begin to drowse.

Beatrix meets my gaze, her expression growing serious after the last student leaves for bed. “Where will you head next?”

My jaw tightens. “To the City of Alexandria. There’s no other choice.”

Rett frowns, shaking his burgundy curls. “That would be reckless. You don’t have the numbers to storm a castle.”

“We could find a different way inside. I’ve snuck out before. I can sneak back in. I know of a mercenary captain and he can⁠—”

“I’m not disagreeing,” he says, an edge to his voice, “but if your plan fails, you will need an army, hidden and waiting to rescue you. You can’t go undefended.”

Beatrix releases her lips from a tight line. “He might be right.”

Rett’s hand finds my shoulder, enveloping it. “We should gather forces in the Beast Realm for an invasion. The Empress will lend her support.”

I shrug off his touch. Does he not realize every delay is another day Klara is alone in that castle with Balor?

Beatrix and Rett exchange guarded looks. She places a gentle hand on my arm. “Perhaps you might send scouts ahead and have them quietly assess before you make your next move.”

He gives her a quick nod. “I’ll dispatch a spy to gather information. Then he can report back to us in the Beast Realm.”

I get up from the table and leave.

* * *

The midnight bell tolls; I count the chimes to be sure everyone is fully asleep. The only sounds breaking the stillness are the occasional creaks or snaps of the old manor settling. When the time is right, I slip out of Beatrix’s chambers and tiptoe downstairs, guided by the dim glow of a single candle.

I silently creep outside into the moonlit garden in only my nightgown and cloak, striding to the far end, where I know I can’t be seen from the house. Along the fenced path, I catch a glimpse of the gazebo standing next to a pond. The grass is undisturbed, save for my footsteps, as insects chirp while I walk by.