Page 72 of Between Fear and Favor

“There is power in atonement, I will give you that.” The king exhaled a deep breath before standing. Uncertain if he’d regret the decision, he gestured for the man to rise with him. “If he is to be mine, the ears will have to go.”

Chapter 36

HONOR

“Shit!”I exclaimed, backing up from the door. Darting forward, I covered my mouth as I bolted the lock.

Shit, shit, shit.

A hysterical giggle fought its way up my throat. Rubbing my hands over my face, I forced slow, deep breaths in an attempt to calm myself. I could count on one hand how many times I’d cursed in my life, and I’d just shouted my mother’s least favorite obscenity out loud. I bit my lip hard, thinking of my mother’s facial expressions if she could only hear some of the things Dewalt said regularly. A tear spilled down my cheek from trying to hold back the laughter, entirely inappropriate to the situation. I wiped it away, feeling embarrassed.

“Nor? Are you in there?” Dewalt’s voice shouted from the other side of the door. “The fuck?” he murmured, and I folded my arms over my chest, squeezing tight.

“He’s not dead, is he?” I asked, putting my hand on the doorknob. “Did I kill him?”

“Open the door.”

“Is he dead?”

“No, he’s not dead. Hanwen’s fucking...He’s passed out. Now, open up.”

Unbolting the door, I cautiously pulled it open. Dewalt knelt beside the drunk man, fingertips pressed to his neck. He was still remarkably tall even when crouched. Appraisingly, with raised brows, Dewalt looked me over. Eyes nearly black in the dim light searched my face, and then his gaze shifted, taking in my shoulders, my breasts, my stomach, all the way down to my bare toes. It was only to ensure I was uninjured, but I held my breath nonetheless. His expression was unreadable as he looked back down, adjusting where his fingertips rested on the man’s neck. I watched with bated breath, waiting for his chest to rise and fall. When he finally inhaled deeply, a snore rattling from him, my body sagged in relief.

“Skies above,” I said, opening the door farther. I nearly thanked Rhia, but stopped myself.

“What the hell happened, Nor?” Dewalt asked, gripping the man on the ground by his collar and heaving him up to lean against the door frame. He slapped his face, a little too hard for just waking him. I felt bad, but didn’t say anything as Dickey pounded up the stairs, red-faced and panting.

I jumped back, covering my chest beneath the thick nightgown I wore. Though I was covered shoulder to ankle, it was far less clothing than anyone had ever seen me in. Sick of trousers, I’d taken the one opportunity to wear something more comfortable, and I’d planned on sleeping in my cloak for modesty. But, despite it being instilled in me to not be a temptation, part of me was curious if Dewalt would react to it.

“Nor!” Dewalt snapped, looking between me and the drunken fool on the ground, irritation building each moment I didn’t answer.

“I heard him fumbling around with a key, and I-I thought it was you. I thought you were perhaps mindless with drink and couldn’t get in.”

“And you opened the door without checking?” he asked, voice flat.

“Well, I did ask, but you didn’t—he didn’t—answer, so I thought—” His pained expression caused me to flush in embarrassment, and I stopped speaking.

Dewalt lifted a hand, elbow resting on his knee, and he rubbed his thumb and forefinger over his brows. “And you thought he was dead? How did he end up on the floor?”

“Well,” I started, but laughter tore up my throat. Vividly aware of the poor timing, I couldn’t help it, which only made me laugh harder. I looked to Dickey for help as Dewalt rose to his full height, arms crossed, but the boy was no help either. His mouth was parted, looking between the two of us in pure curiosity. Screwing my eyes shut, I tried again. “Well, when I opened the door and saw it wasn’t you, I slammed it closed as he started to fall into it. He—he hit his head pretty hard.” I rolled my lips inward, trying not to laugh again. “He made quite a silly sound,” I said, eyes watering. “Like a duck, almost.”

Dewalt’s mouth twitched. “Dickey, get him to his room. I don’t know how I missed him leaving the bar, but he’s at the end of the hall. Kife and Turman, you help too,” he ordered as the other soldiers rounded the top of the staircase. Fletcher stopped at the end of the hall, glancing between me and the man on the floor, before he started giggling quietly to himself.

Dewalt helped them rouse the man, pulling him to his feet with little gentleness. Pushing him against the door frame, he barred his arm over the man’s chest. “You’re going to apologize to my wife,” he growled as the man’s eyes fluttered open.

Fletcher whistled—low. All the air in my lungs left as I stared at Dewalt. The handsome, frustrating man who haunted both my dreams and nightmares alike shouldn’t have been allowed to call me his wife with such conviction. It wasn’t fair.

The drunk man’s head lolled as if it was resting quite precariously on his neck. I couldn’t move. It hadn’t fazed me when Dewalt had claimed me as his wife in front of the entire tavern—it was only an act. But this felt different. The only people present were his men and a drunkard who wouldn’t remember it come morning. I couldn’t allow myself to ponder it or else my mind would wander to a very dangerous place.

“Sorry,” the man slurred.

Dewalt grunted before cocking his head to the side. I wasn’t sure I’d ever heard him sound so threatening. “You’re sorry for scaring her.”

“I—I’m sorry for scaring her.”

“You’re sorry for looking at her.”

Silence for only a moment. Dewalt’s forearm flexed as he put pressure on the man’s chest.

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