Page 36 of Realm of Thieves

Finally, once I’m thoroughly soaked, I stop spinning. Or at least I try to, but the world seems to go on anyway and I find myself listing over, off-balance and dizzy. Suddenly Andor is there, at my side, his arms around me and holding me up, solid and strong.

I allow myself to keep the joy alive for one more second than I should, and I lean into him. He stiffens, sucking in a breath, but he doesn’t move. His grasp is wet and warm and he doesn’t let up, doesn’t let go of me until I know I need to push him away.

You’re not supposed to enjoy the company of your blackmailer’s arms.

I straighten up and step out of his embrace and see a strange darkness in his eyes, one that both makes me uneasy and intrigues me at the same time.

“Well, I’m thoroughly wet now,” I say, and the way his gazeignites, along with a lift of his brow, I know he’s thinking of euphemisms now. “From the rain,” I say, clearing my throat. “Shall we go inside?”

He nods, his lips curving into a ghost of a smile before he turns and heads to the door.

Chapter 12

Brynla

I wake up to Lemilicking my hand.

“Go outside,” I tell him with a groan, rolling over and pulling the covers over my head. “Go pee outside,” I mumble again.

He whines and I hear him sit on his haunches, his nails scratching on the floor.

I could sleep forever, sinking deeper into a dreamless cocoon. To become aware is to feel my body, and my body doesn’t feel right. My mouth is dry and tastes like wine, and my head feels like my skull has thickened on the inside. It’s not just the alcohol, it’s some sort of strange pressure in the air.

I dreamed it was raining, the feeling of water dropping on my chilled arms, as I looked up to a cloudy sky, as Andor watched me with amusement and held me in his arms.

But no, none of that was a dream, was it?

I push back the covers from my face and open my eyes, staring at the ceiling. Wooden reliefs of stags in a forest scene are carved into beams that cross pale gold paint. My bedspread itself is composed ofthe softest sheets beneath a plush golden velvet blanket with amber tassels at the ends, the same jeweled tone of Andor’s eyes.

I roll my head to the side and look at Lemi. He’s attentive, his head cocked to the side, watching me and waiting for something.

“You know how to travel outside,” I say to him. “I’m sure you can appear down in the courtyard or the orchard and then come right back here.”

It’s then that I realize his paws are muddy. He’s already done that. Now he wants something else. Breakfast, I suppose.

And there it is, the scent of fried salt pork wafting in from somewhere. I had left the door to the balcony open a smidge, just to feel the refreshing night air as I slept, though from a security point of view, I suppose that wasn’t very wise. I left that dinner with the distinct impression that Torsten and Kjell Kolbeck want me dead.

But there would be other ways to do that rather than sneaking in a balcony door.

I sigh and throw the rest of the covers back, pivoting until I’m sitting on the side of the bed. Solla lent me a nightgown too, loose, comfortable, and modest. I wonder how long I’ll go on wearing her clothes. I wonder how long I’ll be here.

Last night I asked Andor to let me go.

He said no.

If he doesn’t let me go willingly, I don’t have a chance of escape. Not here, not with Torsten or Kjell, or even Vidar, not in a land that is so foreign to me that even rain feels like a religious experience.

If I want to get out of this, if I want to make it back to my aunt in one piece, then I have to play by the rules. I have to play the game, be the person that Andor and the Kolbecks need me to be. I’ve seen the darkness in Andor’s eyes, seen how quick he is to hold a blade to his blood, and part of me thinks that he might be promising things like my aunt, like freedom, that he never intends to give. The captain of his ship said he’s honest, but of course he would say that.

As much as I want to, I can’t trust Andor. He’s going out of his way to treat me well because he wants to lure me into a false sense of security, have me become beholden to the Kolbecks’ side, at least until I’m no longer useful.

I have to find my own escape, at the first opportunity.

The Midlands.

The next egg raid.

I know that place better than I know this one. I’ll do what I can to put Andor down, hopefully without killing him, and escape with Lemi. If I play my cards right, if I prepare with enough food and water, perhaps I can steal one of the rowboats and take it to the Banished Land. It’s a long shot, but freedom might be worth that price.

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