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“Did you and Lark ever…?”
“Oh no, we didn’t.” She pulled a face. “We weren’tlike that.”
“Never?”
She settled back down on the stool and turned serious. “He didn’t whore himself out as much as he made everyone believe. Those rumors suited him, gave him power.”
“Yes, I suppose they did.” I knew fragments of his past, knew some of what he’d done to survive.
We fell silent for a while, both of us thinking of Lark. She’d be thinking of the past too.
At least Razak wasn’t in the Court of Pain. Razak was the only one who had true power over Lark. They’d punish him, though, and he’d already been hurt so much.
“You miss him, don’t you?” Ellyn said. “More than you missed Draven.”
I swallowed, careful to keep the creak from reappearing in my voice. “You have no idea.”
“Yeah, I think I do.”
We fell quiet again, the mood turning melancholy. She’d lost her love in the palace fire. I almost wished I could go back and do things differently. Although, I still wouldn’t have killed Lark. So perhaps we’d always been destined for this path.
“Why so sad?” Draven boomed behind us. He smelled of soap and fresh clothes. His wet hair had been smoothed back, accentuating his dark, desert features. “We’re here, aren’t we? Let’s make the most of that while we can. Dallin knows we need it.” He ordered more drinks, and with his great booming voice and broad grins, the somber atmosphere lifted. “Lark is alive. That’s good,” he said. “Tell me.”
“Yes, I mean— He’s definitely alive.” I refused to think anything else.
“He’s Lark.” Draven shrugged. “I’ve told you before—”
“He’ll always be the last man standing.” Although, the cost of that survival might be too great.
“See, you do listen.”
I mustered a real smile this time. “Sometimes.”
He thrust a drink into my hand. “Get that in you. I have good tidings to report. Then tell me your adventures in Pain, which I’m sure we’ll need more mead for, or wine, even. Wine would be better.”
“We have wine. I’ll get it,” Ellyn offered, rising from the barstool. “I’ll leave you two to catch up.”
She left to fetch Draven his wine, and I turned my attention back to the warlord, taking a swig of mead. “Please tell me there’s good news regarding War’s crown?”
“There is.” He grinned. “I know where it is.”
“Is it safe?”
He nodded. “After Razak tried to steal it, Ogden locked it away. Razak didn’t get it. It’s safe, Arin. Razak won’t get his hands on it anytime soon.”
The relief was so visceral it made my head spin. I chuckled and enjoyed my mead with fervor, finally feeling good. If War’s crown was safe, then perhaps all was not lost.
Ellyn returned with several bottles of wine and left to tend tables. Draven downed his mead in one go and refilled his tankard with generous glugs of wine.
“Ogden didn’t throw you in a cell?” I asked.
“No. On one condition.” He drew in a deep breath. “I’ve rejected our joining as a sham.”
“Oh.” My smile fell. “I mean, I suppose that was to be expected.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“No, I… Not disappointed exactly, more regretful.” I touched his thigh, startled some at its firm warmth. “I did not set out to hurt you. I’m sincerely sorry.”
