Page 107 of Thorns & Fire
‘And you know me so well?’she challenged, suddenly realizing how close he was, his scent wrapping around her.
‘Better than I know myself sometimes...’
Heat crept up Wren’s neck.‘That’s quite a claim.’
‘The midrealms need your stubborn streak.So keep trying.Keepfailing.It only brings you that much closer to your goal.’
‘If you say so...’
‘Has anyone ever told you that you’re a morose drunk?’he asked.
Wren raised a brow and replied dryly, ‘I’m usually a barrel of laughs.’
‘Sure you are, Embers,’ Torj teased.‘That’s why we’re nursing the same warm drinks, sitting here in the back, away from all the merriment.’
It felt both strange and natural to be here with him, joking as though there weren’t a huge barrier between them.Wren wanted to sink into that old comfort, that blanket of normality and safety the Warsword had become.She peered over his shoulder to where Kipp was waving his arms about as he told yet another story, her lips quirking to the side before she downed her drink.
‘You want to be in the heart of the party, Bear Slayer?’she asked, signalling for another round.
‘Well, nothing crazy, I just thought—’
Wren cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, ‘Kipp!’
‘Shit,’ Torj muttered, twisting in his seat to see the strategist’s face light up.
‘How about one of your toasts for the Bear Slayer?’Wren called.
Torj groaned, his head dropping to the table.
Sure enough, there was a blur of movement, and Kipp was at their table in an instant.
Wren didn’t leave it there.She needed fun.She needed escape.She needed to torment the Bear Slayer, just a little.So she knocked her fresh tankard against Kipp’s with a grin.‘Torj was just saying how much helovesyour toasts.Particularly when you’re regaling tales of his heroics...’
Torj grunted.‘I wasnot—’
But Kipp was already hitting a fork to the side of his drink, thesound ringing out across the entire tavern, drawing everyone’s attention.‘Ladies and gentlemen!Good folks of the Mortar and Pestle!’
Torj glared at Wren, and she noticed the tips of his ears turning red, a small tell that brought her a glimmer of joy amid the gloom.
‘You’re going to regret this, Embers,’ he muttered.
Wren beamed.‘A bodyguard threatening his charge?That must break the handbook rules...’
‘You’re unbelievable,’ he said between gritted teeth.
‘I am indeed.’
Kipp’s loud voice projected to the corners of the tavern.‘Among us tonight is a legend of Thezmarr,’ he declared, raising his tankard high, foam slopping over the sides and onto his doublet.‘A true hero of the midrealms.Though he may prefer monsters to a cheering crowd, let’s hear it for him anyway!To Torj Elderbrock—’
Wren grinned as Torj groaned, his face flaming.
‘—may your ale never run dry, may your enemies always cower, and may you never run out of bears to slay!’Kipp shouted.‘To the Bear Slayer!The man, the myth, the legend!’
Wren joined in the cheering as the elated crowd swarmed the warrior.Torj’s sea-blue gaze met hers, and she grinned, lifting her tankard in salute.
CHAPTER 43
Wren
