Page 29 of Untempered
“Luca sent an assassin after you,” I said, enunciating the words slowly and clearly.
She looked up, shocked. “No, he’d never…” she trailed off.
He wouldn’t do itdeliberately. But I could imagine a lot of ways he’d do itaccidentally. From Audrey’s silence, I knew she was figuring that out. And if he was allied with the Worgs…
It really wasn’t hard to imagine that, given the opportunity, a group of rebels would act to ensure the sins of the father wouldn’t be revisited by the heir.
She let out a long breath. “He wouldn’t send an assassin after me, Isolde.”
We didn’t have time for this. “He doesn’t love you. He doesn’t even know you.”
The only sign of the damage I’d done was a brief flicker of her eyelids and the frown that smoothed away, leaving her looking peaceful.
I wanted to swear.
I wanted to apologize.
“You hide the best of you,” I offered, sensibly. “Because if you didn’t, they’d take it, and they’d break it.” Her expression was flat. I waited as she breathed, watching the way she elongated the exhales and drew the air in deeply with grim pride. “Audrey?—”
“He swore me a Blood Oath,” she said, cutting over me. “Something went wrong, or his blood would’ve boiled in his veins when he attempted to plan this.”
I waved that away. “He doesn’t attempt harmanytime he interacts with you, yet he has done plenty of damage. He’s ignorant, andyou pay for it.” She didn’t argue with me, at least, though I knew getting her to agree out loud would be like drawing hen’s teeth. With a sigh, I offered my palm for the blanket she was using on her wound. “Let me see the damage. We may as well wait in case the others have better luck.” I doubted they would. That boy couldn’t organize a successful rush to the privy.
“The others?” I could see the meaning sink in after she’d spoken the words.
She sat with that thought for a moment. I turned with my borrowed knife to cut a strip off our guests’ cloak, then started trussing them up.
I was halfway done when Audrey said, the words so soft I could barely hear them, “He always did promise he’d look after me.”
Ah, yes, Luca and his big promises. “Present circumstances bear testament to his dedication,” I agreed sweetly and, just for emphasis, ripped another strip of cloth free.
She didn’t flinch.Good girl, I thought grimly, stripping the unconscious assassin of their other knives and tossing them behind me.
Anyway, we all knew Luca would do better to kill Audreyafterthey were wed. He didn’t even have to do it deliberately. The childbed worked same as a knife to the throat, and a babe increased his hold on La’Angi.
The crack of her door being thrown wide made alarm flood my veins, but I didn’t react. I’d trained too long and too hard for that.
Audrey didn’t, either.
The Butcher strode in a moment later, sleeves rolled up and shirt open at the throat in a surprisingly informal moment that was only emphasized by the spray of blood on his boots and his hair still military neat.
Audrey had stood, taking pressure off her wound to curtsey. His eyes took in her injury and the attacker beneath me in a moment.
“Send for a Healer,” he snapped, and behind him, I saw Sullivan’s about-face.
“I—Your Grace, I?—”
One flick of his fingers, and Audrey fell silent. I watched, ice cold, as he took one of the knives where they’d been thrown. His eyes were on the silver the would-be assassin wore as she lay slumped at my feet.
“Keep the pressure on it,” he told Audrey, without looking.
Audrey’s eyes danced to me, then away, as she returned the blanket to where I’d instructed she hold it.
I wasn’t getting the jump on him now. But I could take him to the ground, if I had to.
He didn’t question us, though, just directed a curt nod in my direction with a brusque “Well done.”
Of course he’d never assume it was his daughter who’d bested the assailant. But still, I should’ve dropped a jug or something, so I could’ve claimed I’d smashed it over her head.
