Page 10 of A Crown Without Mercy

“A friend? And what’s this friend's name?” Alaric demanded.

“She never said, but in case you’re worried, it’s another female.”

“It will be dark in an hour. I’m going to fetch her.”

“Alaric, relax. You and father can be extremely overbearing. Let your sister enjoy herself with a friend.”

“I don’t have a problem with her having a friend. I am concerned because it’s going to be dark soon.”

“Leave her be,” Calista demanded.

“Who gave you the authority to decide?”

“Don’t be an ass. She’s not a bairn anymore.” She filled a cup and shoved it in his direction. “Relax.”

Alaric picked up the cup and headed for the door.

“Alaric!” Calista shouted, as he shut the door behind him.

“Is Sylvana really with a female?” Mira asked.

“Yes, and you don’t need to concern yourself with your sister’s business.”

“It is his duty to protect us while father is gone,” Mira replied snarkily.

Calista walked away.

A loud roar erupted from the crowd, startling the girls. They looked to see what the uproar was about and realized it was regarding Kieran Acheron, who had entered the tavern.

“Shit,” Sylvana mumbled as she and the girls looked at each other nervously. Lenora took a large sip and sunk into her seat as if trying to hide. “If Tobias doesn’t know I’m here now, he will sooner than later.”

Sylvana studied Kieran as he greeted a group of warriors who were following him to the bar. He was wearing brown leather trousers and matching leather boots which laced up the front. His white tunic was unbuttoned, untucked, and partially hanging off one of his shoulders, revealing his solid chest, which was covered with intricate tattoos and multiple battle scars; even the thin black hair that adorned his chest and stomach couldn’t hide his toned pecs and chiseled abs. A single black leather strap, encrusted with colorful gems, rested between his pecs and held a sheath firmly attached to his back.

Sylvana studied every feature; his broad shoulders, the way his muscles stretched the fabric of his sleeves when he moved, and how the hair on his stomach followed the V that disappeared beneath the waistband of his trousers. It mortified her when she looked up and realized he was staring at her. “Fuck me,” she said as she diverted her eyes and fumbled for her cup.

“Sylvana, what’s wrong?” Muriel asked.

“He’s looking right at me,” she replied nervously.

“Who?” Lenora asked as she looked around.

“Kieran,” she stated.

Muriel and Lenora glanced at the bar and Kieran was now making his way through the crowd, and heading in their direction.

Muriel leaned forward and whispered, “Dammit, he’s heading over here.”

“Please tell me he isn’t,” Lenora replied as she looked down at her cup.

“Ladies,” Kieran said as he pulled the strap over his head and plopped the heavy sheath on the table.

“Milord,” Muriel and Lenora said in unison.

Sylvana looked at the handle of the sword rather than make eye contact with him as she greeted him. “Milord.”

“Mind if I take a seat?” he asked, as he slid onto the bench next to Sylvana.

Sylvana glanced at Lenora and Muriel and scooted over as far as she could get. “Not at all.”

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