Page 66 of Blood Weaver
We found an isolated corner, veiled from overt gazes by the interplay of shadows and the strategic placement of furniture. The air was thick with unspoken tension, the silence echoing the gravity of impending disclosures.
As soon as we sat, the tavern keeper ambled towards us. His silent gaze bore the testament of years of silent observations. A nod from Orion and the man disappeared, only to return with two chalices of wine. The dark red liquid reflected the flickering lights and brought an even more somber mood.
Orion leaned in. “I’m sure you have many questions,” he began.
“Yes, but mostly I want to know if you know. Who I am, I mean,” I added haltingly.
Orion slowly nodded. “Your guardian tasked me with looking after you if he passed while you were still in Ellyndor.”
I grunted. “Great job protecting me. I’ve been shot, jailed, tortured—”
“I heard,” he cut me off. “I was away in Ellyndor and didn’t find out what happened until Ronan had already staged a rescue.”
I eyed him carefully. “I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but you don’t seem like a normal fae. What are you?”
His intense gaze never wavered. “Don’t worry about whoIam, Leila. That’s not important. What’s important is getting you out of Lomewood. I’ve already scheduled transportation to take you to Ellyndor. I can keep you safe there.”
I frowned and stiffened. “Ellyndor? I don’t want to go back there.”
Orion sighed. “Don’t make things difficult, Leila. You don’t know everything that’s happening—”
“Then tell me!” I shouted as I kicked back the chair and stood. “I’m tired of being kept in the dark about my own life!”
Orion slowly stood. “Everything will be shared in due time, but first you need to go somewhere safe. Lomewood isn’t—”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I seethed. When I turned toward the door, he grabbed my arm.
“Lyanna,” he growled.
“Don’t call me that,” I murmured, shocked that he spoke my real name in public. “That girl died a long time ago.”
“You will always be Princess Lyanna,” he whispered.
The next thirty seconds seemed to unfold in slow motion. I saw his hand curl and dart toward one of my pressure points and realized he would knock me unconscious to whisk me toward what he deemed as ‘safety’. But I was faster.
I swerved under his arm and forced him to release his hold, then took a measured step back. “You might be a full-blooded fae, Orion, butI’ma blood mage. You’ll never be stronger than me.”
I held my hand aloft with my palm facing him and focused on the blood coursing through his veins. In the next second, Istarted to make it boil. Orion dropped to his knees in agony, his face contorted as he scratched his skin.
“Lyanna, please!” he begged.
The use of my royal name caught the attention of several tavern workers. “Oh my gods, it’s the lost princess!” one of them exclaimed.
With my free hand, I lowered my hood further and flung Orion against the wall with enough force that he crashed through it and into the building next door.
Orion’s revelations sent shivers down my spine; a cascade of emotions flooded every fiber of my being. The secrets, veiled alliances, and untold narratives were almost too much to process. The walls of the tavern that echoed the silent whispers of countless hidden stories suddenly felt too confining. I needed air, space, and the liberty to breathe and confront the upheaval that inwardly raged.
I darted out of the tavern, the door swinging shut with an echoing thud that marked my abrupt departure. The streets of Lomewood were veiled in the serene embrace of the night and stars glittered like silent sentinels overseeing the unfolding drama below. Each step towards the inn was fueled by the tempest of emotions that warred inside my head.
I reached the inn with a sigh. It seemed a tranquil haven amidst the surrounding turmoil. Pale moonlight cast a serene allure on the establishment, marking a stark contrast to my racing heart.
The innkeeper, a silent observer of transient visitors, handed me the keys with an unintrusive nod when I placed my reservation under a fake name. I made my way up the winding staircase to my reserved room and closed the door.
The room was a harmonious blend of modest comfort and serene solitude. The bed was adorned with simple, cozy linens that extended a silent invitation for rest, a haven amidst thestorm. A solitary window opened to the moonlight and shadows, a world where I was no longer free to walk around, especially after the scene I’d just made in the tavern. Everyone would know who I was by morning.
I couldn’t waltz into the Rose Petal and whisk Selene away in plain sight. No, my plan required stealth, which meant I needed to pretend to be a man to enter the pleasure house. Only then could I reach Selene’s room and plan our escape.
After pulling my long hair into a bun at the top of my head, I removed my memorable cloak and wrapped a cloth around the bottom of my face to obscure my features. I left my room and had just stepped onto the staircase to head back downstairs when the inn’s front door burst open and a group of men stormed in with another man nestled between them.
