Page 134 of The Throne Seeker
“I’ll be in three.” He pointed down the small hall. Just two doors down. “Don’t hesitate to ask for anything if you need it.”
“I won’t.”
The room was dark, lit by a solitary candle that cast heavy shadows. It was small, to be sure. The bed left much to be desired, its sheets stained and the mattress matted. She had never considered herself to be spoiled, but as she looked around at the worst room she’d ever stayed in, she realized just how privileged she’d been. She wasn’t about to complain.
However, she would be putting her own blanket over the bed—just in case.
She set her bag down, removed her long black cloak, and draped it over the tattered armchair next to the bed. She slipped off her dress, leaving her in her slip, eager to wash off the dirt from the road. She maneuvered around the bed to see if the state of the bathtub was worth the risk—something moved out of the corner of her eye.
To her horror, a figure stepped out of the shadows—a young man, likely about her age, but twice her size and with pointed features. He crept toward her, leering at her with a lustful gaze.
Her eyes widened in recognition. It was the man they’d passed on the road. Acid boiled up her throat, sickened by the fact that he’d purposefully remained quiet to watch her undress.
“My, my, I knew you were beautiful, but without all that fabric, you are positively delicious.” A wicked smile gleamed on his lips as he snaked toward her.
Rose swiveled for her sword, swiping it out of its scabbard. She pointed it at his chest before he could come any closer.
“I’d leave now if I were you,” she warned, her arm steady and fierce. On the inside, her bones shook with fear, but she wouldn’t let him see that. Not an ounce.
He laughed at her, raising an eyebrow. “Do you know how to use that thing, sweetheart?”
“Care to find out?” She stepped forward, daring him to advance.
“Now, now, I just need a little company. With a face like that, it should only take a few minutes. I bet you’ll even enjoy it,” he coaxed with an evil smile.
He lunged, but she acted quicker, stepping aside as she swung at his head so he’d be forced to bend backward to avoid her blade. Just as he did, she kicked the back of his knee in. He crumbled to the ground with a loud thud.
She pressed the tip of her sword to his throat.
He held up his hands, eyes widening with a mixture of irritation and amazement.
“You disappoint me,” she goaded with a cold smile. “I was hoping you’d be more of a challenge.”
Just as she was about to force him to leave, the door burst open. Roman entered, his blade out and ready to wield. But he halted as soon as he saw the scene.
Roman’s pupils turned darker than the bottom of the sea.
He surged forward, snatching the intruder roughly by the collar, lifting him to his feet. He dragged him to the wall and slammed him against it with full force. The man grimaced as his head collided with the hard wood.
“Feel like taking your leave now? Or shall I let the lady finish what she started?” Roman asked in such a dark voice she knew it was the war general in him speaking.
The man had the decency to look scared. He shook his head.
“Luckily for you, I’ve already taken more than enough lives for my lifetime. Apologize, and I’ll let you leave with your life,” Roman snarled.
The man glared over at Rose and said with a forced voice, “I’m sorry.”
“She didn’t quite hear you,” Roman pressed, shoving him harder against the wall.
“I’m sorry,” the man said louder, having difficulty speaking with Roman’s forearm rammed against his neck.
Roman yanked him off the wall and shoved him out the door, then punched him—once, twice, nearly knocking him out cold.
The first opportunity he got, the man cupped his face and ran.
Roman took a step to pursue him?—
“Let him go.” Rose slid her sword back in its scabbard.
