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Drayce stared at the sign over his head. “You have got to be fucking kidding me. The Slippery Duck Pub. Did you pick a strip joint?”
“It’s not a strip joint,” Eno growled. “It’s a pub. A tavern. I looked it up. They serve a lot of the people who work third shift. Apparently, they’ve got a pretty awesome breakfast.”
Drayce snorted. “I can’t wait to tell Cael.”
He followed Eno into the tavern and stood blinking, trying to get his eyes to adjust to the deep darkness inside the tavern after the bright sunlight that poured through the city. The place smelled of stale beer, fried potatoes, and strawberries, but he was willing to put money on the fact that the strawberries weren’t real. Just some kind of air freshener.
When his eyes adjusted, he saw what appeared to be a normal tavern with wooden tables and chairs. A handful of men lined the bar, nursing beers and plates of fluffy scrambled eggs. Maybe breakfast wasn’t such a bad idea. He’d only had one cup of coffee and a cold piece of toast as Eno pushed him toward the door.
“Will we have time to eat?”
“Yep. I’ve got my eye on a breakfast burrito filled with eggs and pot roast.”
Drayce’s stomach grumbled loudly, tossing its vote in for the same burrito.
“Sit wherever you want. Menus on the tables. I’ll be around in a minute,” the barman called out to them as he filled a pint glass from the tap.
Eno waved one hand in acknowledgment before heading toward the rear of the tavern, likely looking for a spot where they’d not be overheard but still have a good view of the door.
Halfway across the room, a tall woman with a long braid of rich brown hair slid out of the booth and grinned at him. Holy shit! Drayce nearly plowed through Eno to get to the woman who was holding her arms out to him.
“Melita!” he cried out as he threw himself into her arms.
Yes, this was the perfect spot for her to drive a knife into him, and it would be no less than he deserved, but this was motherfucking Melita Rey. The most badass of the royal guards and the sweetest woman he’d met in his entire life. If she’d not made it her life goal to mother him to death, Drayce would have proposed to this beautiful creature a hundred times over already.
Strong arms wrapped around him and squeezed tight, lifting him up to his toes and cracking his back in a couple of places. He was used to Melita’s spine-cracking hugs. They were the best. Drayce closed his eyes as they unexpectedly burned with tears. Since the horrible news, she was the first thing that felt like home to him.
“Thank all the gods living and dead you’re still alive,” she whispered in his ear. Her thick accent curled like smoke through his brain, calling up warm images of his adventures in the capital with Caelan.
Melita Rey had grown up in a southern Erya city where the accents of Erya and Ilon blended into their own rich stew. She’d grown up one of six girls in her incredibly wealthy family. Supposedly, her mother had wanted her to marry well and carry on the tradition of making Erya wine. She’d laughed. From her earliest memory, she wanted to be a guard of the royal family of Talos.
And from Drayce’s experience, nothing could stop Melita once she decided something was going to happen.
“Ditto girl,” Drayce gasped when he could draw in a breath. There was so much he wanted to ask her, but he bit his tongue. He’d likely caused a big enough scene already so that everyone was going to remember him and a woman named Melita. He was going to be lucky if Eno didn’t strangle him when they left.
When Melita released him with her wide grin, she stepped away and Drayce finally caught sight of her companion. All the fuzzy warmth drained out of him through his toes and his knees nearly gave out of him as the man unfolded himself from the table, no expression on his grizzled face.
Tomas Soto.
Drayce was fucked. Forget Eno strangling him. Tomas Soto could eviscerate him with just a look.
Tomas Soto was the head of the royal guards of Erya. There had been only two people in the world he’d had to answer to—Queen Amara and Hagen Sigurd, the queen’s personal bodyguard. Not even Caelan could boss this man around.
Well, technically he could now as king, but there was a part of Drayce that wondered if he’d listen.
“Drayce,” Tomas greeted, his voice a low roll of thunder.
Drayce gulped at him and nodded. He didn’t know what to say. Normally, he’d give a bow or a fucking salute to him, but they were trying to be incognito. Though his shout and super hug might have ruined that plan.
