Page 66 of The Kingdom's Reckoning
At the mention of her name, Myra straightened in her seat.
The captain scoffed. "You’re being ridiculous."
"No,youare. Right, Mys?"
"Uhm…" Myra glanced between the two men. Had someone added more logs to the hearth? Suddenly her shirt felt a little too thick, her collar a little too tight.
As if seeing the debate in her gaze, Laurince shook his head slightly.
Her stomach flipped. And perhaps it was the mead or whatever magic was in the tavern, but instead of agreeing with Laurince wholeheartedly like she should have, she said, "I suppose you’re not wrong."
"See!" Rian shouted and slapped his hand against his thigh.
Myra took a sip of mead, hiding her amused grin.
Groaning, Laurince hung his head and pressed a hand to his chest as he leaned heavily against the back of his chair. "You wound me, Haze."
Rian slapped Laurince on the back. "Now, I’m going to stop at the bar and head to bed. Fifth room on the left. Don’t be too early," Rian said with a wink before taking off.
Myra’s gaze trailed after him. "Are you sure he’ll be fine?" she asked when Rian was far enough away.
Laurince grabbed the back of his chair and leaned his weight against it. Myra’s attention dropped to his arms. He had rolled up his sleeves, revealing a few veins crawling up his forearms.She quickly glanced away and took another sip of mead. The liquid warmed her throat, but it did little to cool the feeling blooming in her core.
"Would you believe me if I said he’s an even better fighter when he’s drunk?" Laurince asked.
Myra snorted. "Absolutely not."
"Well, it’s true. He took down five men the night I danced on the tables." A small smile graced his face at the memory.
"You’re lying."
"Nope," Laurince said, his lips smacking together and making a small popping sound. He slumped back down into the seat. He tapped his fingers on the table as he turned his gaze to the crowd.
After a moment, Myra mumbled, "I am not uptight."
Laurince squinted, tilting his head in thought. "You are a little. But I certainly am not."
With a scoff, she rolled her eyes. "A rock is still a stone, you know. Just because I might prefer staying inside doesn’t mean you’re not uptight too."
Laurince smirked. "Dig the knife deeper, why don’t you?"
Myra chuckled, and Laurince’s faint grin widened, turning into a full-fledged smile. Her stomach fluttered at the sight of his dimple.
She dropped her gaze to the cup and twisted it in her hands.
Laurince leaned back in the chair and rocked it back onto its two back legs. Drumming his fingers on the edge of the table, he looked around the tavern. It was early enough that a decent number of people were still dancing, the music not yet having slowed.
Laurince was probably right. Rian would be fine. They were still on Tetrian soil. The people here didn’t seem to be fazed by the attacks that were plaguing the seven kingdoms. They were safe. For now. For tonight.
Slowly, Myra let the music soften her concerns. Soon, she was swaying to the rhythm.
"Well," Laurince said, the front feet of his chair slamming down as he reached for the pitcher, "might as well not waste this, right?"
She eyed the pitcher. Her neck was already warming, and the tips of her ears were buzzing. Yet she pushed her cup forward, anyway. Laurince poured the mead, dividing the rest evenly and filling their cups to the brim.
He raised his mug. "To beingun-uptight."
Myra’s hand halted an inch from his. "That’s not a word."
