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‘What a shame,’ Torj said lightly. ‘You sure you don’t need our protection?’
Thea couldn’t help the scoff that escaped her then, nor the smug grin as Wren replied tersely, ‘I manage well enough on my own.’
Thea half hoped she’d blow a pile of Widow’s Ash on the Warsword for his arrogance. That was how her sister had dealt with Seb Barlowe and his lackeys, rendering them infirmary-bound for days.
Wilder seemed to be fighting a chuckle himself. He looked from Wren back to Thea. ‘You’re more alike than you realise.’
Thea didn’t know why her knee-jerk reaction was to deny this, but Wilder’s words from the ruins came back to her:‘Life is too short – yours, in particular – to hold grudges against the people you love.’
Furies be damned, she hated it when he was right.
She went to say something to Wren – what, exactly, she wasn’t sure – but her attention snagged on the fact that Cal and Kipp were unnervingly quiet for a change. And then she saw why. She followed their gazes to another table, where a beautiful raven-haired woman sat.
Thea recognised her instantly. It was Milla, the beauty Kipp was always on about, the one he’d gone off with the last time the trio had been at the Laughing Fox.
Only now she sat in the arms of another man, his tongue halfway down her throat.
Cal seemed to catch on at the same time as her. ‘Is that —’
‘It’s – it’s fine,’ Kipp stammered, plucking his tattered kerchief from his pocket and picking at the loose stitching. ‘We weren’t… Uh… It’s fine.’ A deep blush spread across his cheeks and he trained his focus on the loose threads of the embroidered fox tail.
Cal looked helplessly at Thea. She shifted on the bench. She was sorely tempted to storm across to Milla’s booth and give her a piece of her mind —
Kipp grabbed her arm as though he could read her thoughts. ‘Honestly. She’s not doing anything wrong. We weren’t together. Not… not, you know… officially.’
Thea’s anger softened, but she didn’t know what to say.
It was Wilder who seemed to have the solution. The Warsword slid a tankard towards the strategist without a word.
* * *
The unlikely companions sat in the Laughing Fox for some time, with Thea insisting they eat.
‘Wild boar?’ she asked Kipp with a knowing look.
Her friend gave a heavy sigh, still nursing his drink. ‘I don’t think I’m in the mood.’
‘Not even for roast potatoes?’ she pressed, trying to keep a straight face. ‘And sticky toffee pudding?’
Kipp’s gaze slowly slid to hers. ‘Depends…’
‘On what?’
Kipp’s expression was all business. ‘On who’s paying.’
A laugh burst from Thea and she held out her coin.
‘Well, if the king’s paying, better add a few more things,’ Wilder declared.
Everyone stared at the Warsword.
‘What?’ he said defensively. ‘I’m fucking starving.’
Torj laughed loudly before looking pointedly between Wilder and Thea. ‘Oh, I bet you are.’
‘No one asked for your opinion, Bear Slayer,’ Wilder replied gruffly.
‘Long night, was it?’ Torj teased.
