Page 25 of Song of the Shadow Prince
The first guy, now recovered and bolstered by the crowd’s taunts, tried to blindside me with a sneak attack. Hearing his lumbering footsteps, I spun and ducked under his swing, then launched a series of quick jabs to his midsection, finishing with a knee to his groin. He dropped like a sack of potatoes.
The second and third guys, their faces livid with fury, charged at me together. I grabbed a nearby tray and flung it like a frisbee, hitting the third guy square in the face. He stumbled to the side and crashed into a table, which came down with him when he fell on his ass. Swinging wildly, the second guy stormed toward me with ferocious determination, eager not to be felled as swiftly as his mates. Leaning on my years of military calisthenics, I gracefully sidestepped and used his momentum to flip him over my shoulder and onto the floor.
When I took a step back, my dress snagged on a splintered board and I yanked it free, tearing the silky fabric across one knee. Great. Now I was fighting with one leg exposed.
Still clutching his bleeding nose, the fourth guy attempted one last, desperate attack, but his movements were sluggish and I easily blocked his punch. Twisting his arm behind his back, I shoved him face-first into the bar. Defeated, he slumped to the ground and stayed there.
While the tavern rang with raucous cheers and taunts minutes earlier, now it was dead silent. The only noises to break the stillness were groans from the conquered and ragged breaths of those too afraid to intervene.
I dusted off my hands and turned back to the winner, who looked at me with a mixture of bewildered fear and grudging respect. I cocked one eyebrow and dared him to move. “You were saying something about me making a mistake?”
The man swallowed hard. “N-no mistake. You made your point.”
I smiled sweetly. “Good. Now, let’s make sure we’re clear. Garrick here will get you the hundred thousand gold leaves by tomorrow night. No more threats, no more fights. Understood?”
He nodded vigorously, then turned to Garrick. “D-Don’t worry about the gold leaves. We’ll call it even, yeah?” Withoutwaiting for Garrick to reply, he hurried out of the tavern without a backwards glance.
I turned to the warlock, who watched with his single eye wide and unblinking. “Well, that was fun. Some would say you might even owe me a favor…” I patted his shoulder and sauntered past him toward my table.
Maeve rushed over, her eyes wide with admiration and worry. “My lady, are you alright?”
I grinned, excited by the adrenaline coursing through my veins and the breeze that cooled the skin of my exposed leg. “Never better.” I winked. “Now Ireallyneed that drink… and maybe a tailor.” I grimaced and looked down at the torn silk.
“Lord Zacharia will have my head if I bring you home like this!” Maeve grabbed my cloak from the chair and wrapped it around my shoulders, scandalized by the thought of me showing a little leg.
“God, I’m hot.” I fanned my hand in front of my face. “Please take this off me!” I whined and tried to remove the fur cloak, but Maeve only tightened it and fixed me with a stern look.
“My lady, you are a proper lady! You cannot walk around with your skin exposed in such a manner. Especially not in the Southern District! They might think…” Her words trailed off and her face flushed.
“They might think what?” I quirked a brow, quivering on the brink of laughter.
“They might think you’re a whore,” Garrick nonchalantly finished for her as he dragged a chair from a neighboring table and sat beside us. “The name’s Garrick. Now who do I have the pleasure of thanking?” All surprise and shock from my earlier display was gone.
“Cat.” I held out a hand for him to shake. “Oh, well here, I’m Arya,” I added with an eye roll. “Long story. Wait for the movie.”
“It’sLadyArya,” Maeve clarified, giving him a stern look. “Of House Ryder.”
Garrick’s brows shot up to his hairline. “House Ryder? No shit. You mean to tell me one of the noble folk from the Northern District can fight likethat?”
I giggled. “Hey, you said shit. At least I know that’s a familiar term here,” I muttered to myself.
“My lady!” Maeve reprimanded, aghast by my flippant use of profanity.
I waved off her genteel horror. “Yes, it seems I come from a noble family—”
“Not justanynoble family, my lady,” Garrick interrupted me. “The Ryders control the iron here in Elaria. It’s big business. You’re one of the few humans who are considered nobility.”
I fought the urge to laugh at his assessment. If what Maeve said was true, then our family business was trash and we teetered on the brink of bankruptcy. The Ryder family must have some really good PR to keep up their prosperous image. I shrugged, not interested in discussing things that would force me to lie to my new friend. “If you say so.”
“So tell me, Lady Arya,” Garrick smirked, “what brings you down south to The Broken Tankard?”
I sighed and leaned back in my chair, resting my arm on the back of it and spreading my legs to get comfortable. Maeve’s eyes grew wide, appalled by my lack of decorum in such a public place. “Well, Garrick, you see, I’m in a bit of a pickle and I’m hoping you might be of service.” I grinned.
A sly smile slid across his face. “I’m starting to realize our chance encounter might not have been by chance.”
I chuckled. “Oh, it was definitely by chance… once I figured out who you were, that is. I’m sort of… new here, you might say.” I motioned to the woman sitting rigidly beside me. “My lovelyfriend Maeve here has been showing me around and told me just how awesome you are.”
Maeve choked on her ale. “Friend? I’m your servant, my lady!”
