Page 10 of A Matter of Dragons

Another voice rose from inside the room. A deep voice. Eadberh turned. I seized the moment to throw my full weight against the door. The dresser slid across the polished wooden floor with a groan, and I forced my way into the room that was supposed to belong to both of us.

At least the naked man in Eadberh’s bed had the good sense to look contrite, or at least as contrite as he could look with the sheets bunched around his waist and an empty wine bottle at his feet.

“I am so sorry,” the naked man gushed. “I didn’t realize he was married.”

I stared at him, trying to place his long, blond hair and delicate features. “Ah. You’re the musician,” I said.

I’d last seen him fully clothed and playing some complicated stringed instrument in the inn’s common room when Eadberh and I had split up that evening. Apparently, Eadberh hadn’t gotten very far.

“I’m not married,” Eadberh said, almost at the same time.

The naked blond in the bed turned to me as if he didn’t trust it coming from anyone other than the pissed-off woman who’d just forced her way into the bedroom. Huffing in irritation, I turned to the empty bed on the other side of the room where I’d laid my sword. I had so wanted to spend the night shut up in here, avoiding people.

“He’s not married,” I grudgingly admitted.

The man on the bed all but sighed in relief.

“He’s my idiot brother,” I continued, serving up the cover story we’d agreed upon back in Valgros.

Eadberh gave me an apologetic half-smile and rubbed the back of his neck. “So, uh... Do you think you could come back? In a couple of hours?”

I wanted to punch him. And then I wanted to punch myself for wanting to punch him. I knew how hard it was for Eadberh to find men who shared his preferences, especially in Valgros. And he’d been quite open about what he’d hoped to find in Cairncliff, aside from the dragon.

Plus, the bastard had technically saved my life. More than once.

I heaved a sigh. “Fine,” I said.

Eadberh’s face broke into an enormous grin. He yanked open a drawer on the abused dresser and pulled out a thick stack of coins.

“Go have fun,” he said as he pressed the coins into my palm. “Go to a really nice place. Vil, what’s a good restaurant?”

“Oh, go to the Elven District,” the man on the bed said. His eyes brightened.

Eadberh nodded so agreeably I doubted he’d even heard what the man had said. “Yeah. Go there. Have fun.”

I dropped the coin into my purse. Whatever I ended up doing tonight, I was keeping the money. Consider it payment for my lost evening of not dealing with other people. I stepped out of the doorway and pulled it shut behind me, but the door caught. I looked up to see Eadberh’s hand on the frame.

“Rayne.” Our eyes met. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“Yeah. Whatever,” I shrugged.

The door closed. I walked away before I could hear whatever Eadberh was beginning to say to his one-night stand, trudged down the stairs, and faced the inn’s common room with a sense of grim determination. By all the blessed kings, I felt tired. I’d never traveled so far outside of Valgros, and trying to pretend that the strange customs of Cairncliff didn’t make my jaw drop was exhausting.

I’d also never had to wear a dress for such an irritatingly long time. The elegant leather boots that I’d chosen to match this dress pinched my toes, and the voluminous skirt was heavy and stupid. This dress exposed too much skin on my chest while restricting any actual movement; it was like window-dressing, created solely for show.

One of the women by the window laughed, a high shriek of pleasure that sounded almost like a bird’s call. Those three women were wearing plain dresses with smaller skirts. They all looked much more comfortable than I felt, here with their friends, in their own city.

My left hand tightened into a fist. At first, I’d assumed I’d just sink into a chair by the fireside and ask the barkeep to keep the wine coming, but now I felt uneasy, as though that woman’s laugh had awakened something restless just below my skin. I crossed the room, pushed open the heavy front door, and stepped aimlessly into the night. Toward the harbor, I decided. Away from the mountains and the Spirit Wood. I walked past the warm light flickering through the inn’s windows, rounded the corner—

And almost smacked into someone.

“Oh!” I cried, stepping back. “Excuse me.”

“Excuse me,” a man’s voice said in a strangely familiar rumble.

I looked up, meeting his dark eyes.

It was Doshir from the antiquities shop.