Page 62 of Between Fear and Favor

“Perhaps your tattoo is an ‘H’ for hateful. Or maybe ‘D’ for Dewalt, because you can be quite an ass sometimes,” she retorted, face screwed up in irritation, and I couldn’t tamp down the bark of laughter which fought its way up my throat. It surprised her too, given the look on her face, and her lip trembled as she tried to push her smile away. Without another word, she turned on her heel and headed toward the staircase.

“Lock your door,” I called, voice hoarse. She waved a hand at me as she stalked away, as if it were the most obvious reminder in the world, before taking the stairs two at a time like she couldn’t get away fast enough. Grabbing my ale from the innkeeper, I surged toward the stairs, listening for her steps to fade and our door to lock. And when I finally exhaled, long and slow, I knew I had to exercise some form of self-preservation and stay away.

I was aboutto tell Turman, Fletcher, and Kife to finish up and head to bed when Dickey sat down across from me, his third mug of ale in hand. I should have cut him off an hour ago, but I’d never seen the boy looking more carefree. I’d been his age before, and there was only so much trouble he could get into in this small, isolated town, so I allowed him to indulge.

I was paying attention to other shit anyway.

Tense after my interaction with Nor, I’d had to settle another dispute with one of the miners on Fletcher’s behalf. And every moment after had been spent with a watchful eye on the stairs. The landing was right above me, so it was easy to see who went up and listen for their footsteps. The only occupants of the third floor were my own soldiers and one other man who still sat at the bar. Nor would be safe alone until I went up there, and if I heard someone turn up a second flight of stairs, I could be there in a moment.

“Thank the gods we’re only here for the night,” I murmured when a cheer went up to celebrate the outcome of an arm-wrestling match. I couldn’t be bothered to deal with all of this for more than that. I would have enjoyed this atmosphere once—not that long ago, either—but I was tired. If I weren’t so irritated with myself, I would have gone back up to my room the moment I settled their dispute. But there was too much on my mind, so I chose to stay downstairs for a little bit longer.

Ciarden’s ass, I wanted to kiss her. So much for arm’s length.

“Tell me,” Dickey said, eyes bleary as he struggled to hold his drink. The man was always anxious, and this was the only time I’d seen him shrug off his worries and have fun. Still though, I didn’t sign up to babysit him.

“Tell you what?”

“Everything.” Propping his chin in his hand, he raised an expectant brow. He’d been spending too much time with Emma. “Perhaps starting with when you got married and when you were planning on telling the rest of us.”

“For fuck’s sake,” I groaned. “Mind yourself.” The only person nearby was Fletcher, but I didn’t want to risk the ruse offering her safety by being overheard.

“Well? Shouldn’t you be enjoying your bride?” When Dickey’s eyebrows waggled, I sighed. Fletcher plopped down onto the bench beside me before interjecting himself.

“I know I’d be enjoying her if my woman looked like Nor. Gods, you can tell those legs are?—”

“Shut your fucking mouth, Fletcher, or you’ll be meeting your antler god sooner than you think.”

The elven man nodded, appearing to think better of staying to discuss Nor further, before he stumbled back to the bar.

Just as Dickey was about to speak again, I held up my hand. The miners were slowly but surely clearing out of the tavern, many going to their own recently built homes. One man stumbled up the steps to his room, and I listened to make sure he continued down the hallway. When the door opened and shut nearly directly above us, I dropped my hand.

“You’re the biggest pain in my ass, you know that?”

“That’s quite an achievement, sir.” Dickey paused to hiccup. “Thank you.”

When he drank from his mug again, I picked up my own. I’d been nursing the same ale for the last hour. It wasn’t very strong, and it didn’t taste very good, but I had to have some sort of excuse for staying down here. He was right; if a man had a bride like Nor, he should have been thoroughly enjoying her, not abandoning her upstairs only to be surrounded by men and drink. But I couldn’t go back right away. With how badly I still wanted to kiss her, the memory of how she’d once whimpered and relaxed under the press of my lips fresh in my mind, it was a risk I couldn’t take. I’d told her once before she was dangerous, and that still held true. The only difference between then and now was the reason.

When I’d apologized to her after my bath, she had forgiven me in an instant. Her eyes had been so full of understanding, it had disarmed me; she knew better than I did why I’d behaved the way I did. But perhaps that wasn’t a statement on her own level of discernment but instead an insight that I was not so fucking special. I was just like anyone else she’d been around during her time as a novice. I had thought what I’d felt that day was anger—at her, at Lu, at myself. Her tenderness after my apology hadn’t been a response to anger, but something more complicated. Something I hadn’t even begun to think about myself.

The more I thought about it, the more the scar on my chest ached.

“But—” Dickey hiccuped. “But will we all be invited to the real one?” He looked down, trailing his fingertip through the wet ring his mug had left on the table. I didn’t have a moment to react to what he’d said before he teared up. “Salas would have been so excited.”

I sighed, ignoring the implication and trying to offer comfort instead. “Salas was a good soldier. I’m sorry she died.”

“Everybody dies,” Dickey said, staring into his drink. My mouth went dry.

“How old are you?”

“Just turned nineteen,” he said.

Swallowing, I cleared my throat. “Eventually, everybody dies. But it’s what we do in the meantime, in spite of loss, that matters.”

He only blinked at me, slow and separate, like a frog. “Coming from you?—”

“I know. And that’s why you should listen to me. I know what I’m talking about.”

“She suspected it—Salas.”

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