Page 28 of Sent To A Fantasy World and Now All the Men Want Me 7

I took a big gulp of ale, then dove in for another bite of stew, pretending not to notice. I even laughed when the knights across from me did, despite being completely oblivious as to what we were all laughing about.

Everything just felt so awkward. Onyx hadn’t thrown me off the balcony last night when confronting me about the Hallowed Saint thing—yay—but he still watched me like I had a trick up my sleeve. Like he was waiting for me to jump up and fling fireballs at them or poison them with the meal I made with my grubby little magical fingers.

Or maybe I was just paranoid.

The spies spoke of the current situation with Nocturne and how, before dinner, they had traveled to the barrier again with the scouts.

“The three mercenaries were still lying in wait,” Reign said, and his gaze briefly moved to me before flitting away. “The one called Stryder sensed us.”

“He told us to give them the boy,” Draven added, his accent thick with a slight gruff. “Promised they wouldn’t hurt him and that they’d leave once he was in their possession.”

The ale soured in my gut.

“Hurt him? No.” Rowan snorted without humor. If looks could kill, his topaz eyes would’ve set the entire dark wood on fire. “They just want to haul Evan to Haran and let that bastard king have his way with him.”

Silence hung over the table, the only sound being a soft pop of the logs in the fire.

“Evan is under my protection,” Onyx said, speaking for the first time since sitting with us at the table. The sound of his voice had my heart rate accelerating. “Nocturne can stay out there for years and never be any closer to reaching him.”

Maddox regarded the demon lord with a heavy brow. Then gave a subtle nod.

“Do you two still plan to return to Bremloc soon?” Duke asked the spies.

“Aye,” Reign answered. “Tomorrow evening.”

Baden wiped at his mouth and focused on the spies. “How will you get past the mercenaries? If they’re out there waiting, it’ll be a bloodbath the moment you step foot beyond the barrier.”

“Fortunately, there’s another way in and out of my realm,” Onyx said, smoothing his thumb over his goblet. “A backdoor of sorts. It will bypass the mercenaries and allow the spies to leave undetected.”

“Really?” Briar adjusted his glasses. “A secret path?”

Onyx nodded. “Only a select few in my realm know how to unveil it. Titus is one of them. He will escort them back to Bremloc.”

“Titus?” I frowned, unfamiliar with the name.

“The captain of the scouts,” Reign told me. “He’s small but feisty.”

“But not nearly as feisty as you.” Rowan cracked a smile my way, kicking one leg up on the end of the table. Back to his snarky self.

“Secret path or not, things can always get messy.” Duke cracked his knuckles. “If you need us to join you beyond the barrier for a fight, just say the word. I’ve been itching to face off with those Nocturne bastards again.”

“Aye,” Baden chimed in, a hard set to his brow. “You may be spies of the Secret Order, but you’ve become our brothers as well. And we protect our own.”

“Protect the boy instead,” Draven said, his thick accent adding a deeper sense of severity to the words. “He needs it far more than either of us.”

A flutter passed over my heartstrings. The cranky spy could pretend not to care for me, but the truth was clear in that moment. As his words registered, however, a new wave of nerves rippled through me.

I reached for my goblet and took another drink. The ale was bitter but not too bad. The subtle sweetness made it bearable. And it got better with every drink.

The stew and thick slabs of bread sopped up the alcohol at first, but after I finished eating, I… well, kept drinking. There was only so much anxiety a muffin could handle. As conversation continued around the table, I drained my goblet, then poured another glass.

“The thorn prince is gulping that ale like it’s air,” Duke said in a boisterous voice, slapping Baden’s shoulder before motioning to me. “Look at ’im.”

“Huh?” I hiccupped as I reached for the bottle to pour another glass.

“Perhaps you’ve had enough, love,” Briar gently said, resting his hand over the rim of my goblet and preventing me from refilling it.

“But I’m not even—” Hiccup “—feeling it yet.”