Page 54 of A Tongue so Sweet and Deadly

He shrugged, his jaw ticking. “I told you, I’m just trying to figure you out.”

But his eyes betrayed him, something she didn’t fully understand flashing in them before he turned and slowly made his way to the staircase.

When he lingered beneath the stairs, his shoulders tight, her face softened.

“You’re lonely.”

Right now, he reminded her of Ardow, and a shiver of sympathy danced down her spine. Ardow never wanted to be alone—he would rather sleep on her floor than in his own room. Apparently, the broody regent wasn’t looking forward to his room either.

Glancing at her from over his shoulder, he smirked. “I’m not lonely, darling. I have everything I want.”

Shaking her head, she watched him scale the staircase until his dark hair disappeared behind the bend.

That was his first lie.

Chapter

Twenty-Five

The following week, a fierce storm raged through Asker, and Lessia wasn’t able to go outside to gather wood, didn’t have the energy to wade through the thick snow swirling outside the door. The ache in her stomach and the cloudiness in her mind grew every day, even with the small sips of liquor she allowed herself to try to dull them.

Venko and Craven mostly stayed in their rooms, the latter looking older and frailer every time she glimpsed him. Loche came down once in a while but didn’t bother speaking to her, and while she knew she needed to try to get closer to him, she didn’t have the energy for that either.

But today, the sun finally broke through the clouds, and as Lessia pushed the door open, the snow before the cabin sparkled where the rays hit it through the trees. Forcing herself to take a shaky step outside, she made her way to the closest copse of trees.

Her hands trembled as she pulled the dagger out and slipped off her cloak to lay it on the ground. Black spots filledher vision as she crouched, and when she reached for the first branch, she could barely grip it.

Settling onto her knees, she swore quietly and started sawing at it, every movement causing jabs of pain to radiate through her arm, her vision blurring further as dizziness consumed her.

“So even halflings are affected by starvation. I thought you were immortal.”

Slowly lifting her eyes, she met Craven’s brown gaze.

“We are, but not if we don’t eat,” she mumbled. “Do you need anything?”

Even though he was a bastard, she’d been taught to respect her elders, and Craven looked about ready to drop dead this very moment, his wrinkled skin pale and eyes watery.

He sneered at her. “The only thing I need is for you to leave. You’re not welcome here. I suggest you blow that horn and get that Fae soldier of yours to take you home. Preferably back to Vastala.”

Gripping her dagger tighter, she shook her head. “I can’t do that. I have the same right as you to be here, and I’m not leaving. Besides, Ellow is my home.”

Craven took a step closer. “I won’t tell you again, halfling. Leave.”

Rising to her feet, swaying slightly when blood rushed from her head, she narrowed her eyes. “Or what, Craven?”

Taking another step closer, he lowered his voice. “I might be old, but I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

He reached within his dark purple robes and pulled out twin daggers, flicking them in his hands. “Leave now, and I won’t have to do this. But be sure I will if you don’t. I love Ellow, and I won’t let trash like you try to ruin it.”

Backing up a step, she lifted her own dagger. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Craven laughed quietly. “You don’t even know how to use that. You’re holding it completely wrong. You’ll only harm yourself, halfling.”

A warning growl left her throat when he stepped into her space. “Back off, Craven. I won’t tell you again.”

“You can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Before she understood what was happening, she slammed into the hard snow, with Craven’s surprisingly strong legs pinning her arms down, those daggers pressed against her throat.

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