He was right, of course. Hours ago, she could have bent tree branches into a safe nest high in the air. Now, she lacked both time and energy.
Semras swallowed back her bitterness. “And where willyousleep, Inquisitor? It certainly won’t be with me.”
“Ah …” He smirked. “I planned to discuss this with you tonight—atdinner. Alas, your company was missing, and I had to decide on my own. I hope you had a pleasant evening. Did Sir Themas de Maldoza take good care of you?”
At the sound of the knight’s name, Semras recoiled, brow creasing with hurt.
If the inquisitor saw it, he gave no sign of it. “Was the food to your liking?” he asked. “You owe me thanks. I convinced the innkeeper to open his winter reserves for you, since you insisted on eating with the Venators. Give praise to the Radiant Lord for bestowing Its holy authority upon someone as generous as I.” An insufferable smugness lit up his face.
“It must be soniceto lord over others. Perhaps you thought you could order me around as well? That I’d tremble and fall on my knees before your might, O great Inquisitor?” Semras took a step forward, nails digging into her clenched palms. “I won’t break so easily, nor will I bend to your whims. Themas told me all about how you call witches to your bed. He said—”
“I know what he said. I heard you two outside the door.” Inquisitor Velten rose from his chair and approached her.
Semras stood her ground, refusing to cower under his sneer.
“Tell me, witch,” he continued, “what did you make of his words? Would you give me your body in exchange for absolution?” He was provoking her.
And succeeding.
Rage engulfed her heart in a blazing, wild inferno. “How dare you, Inquisitor! How many of my sisters have suffered such disgrace at your hands? How many?”
“Suffered? I would say none. They were all very satisfied at—”
Semras flung her hand toward his cheek. Before she could slap him, the inquisitor caught her, forcing her palm backward. His thumb pressed cruelly into her wrist.
Her tendons became locked, bending her fingers against her will. Before she could step away, he caught her other wrist and did the same. Deprived of control over her fingers, the witch could no longer weave magic.
Her panicked heartbeat fluttered like a wild bird in a cage. With barely a hint of pressure against her skin, he had rendered her helpless. Vulnerable.
Horror twisted her mouth into a snarl. “Release me!”
Inquisitor Velten clicked his tongue. “Calm down. Isn’t this nicer? Talking like this, like civilized people? Really, I am wounded you would trust the words of Maldoza so easily. Indulge me, witch, and ask me what I intend to do to you.” The pressure on her wrists lessened, turning his deadly grip into a softer hold.
Semras ripped her hands out of it. Wide-eyed, she stared back, unsure of where this was going. His actions threatened her, but his words lacked the same energy.
“… What do you intend to do?” She didn’t dare add ‘to me.’
“I intend,” he said, catching one strand of her hair and twirling it around, “to slip into a bedroll in front of the fireplace. I intend to fall asleep and leave this long, tiresome day behind. And I intend for you to take the bed—alone—and do the same. What else did you have in mind?”
Semras glanced at the bed. Standing a few steps away, it looked luxurious, warm, and decidedly made for two people. And he pretended he’d voluntarily turn it down after days of travel on the road?
“You took a room with a single bed,” she said, snarling. “What am I supposed to infer from this, when rumours—”
Inquisitor Velten let out a tired exhale. His smirk fell, and he let her hair strand slip from his fingers. “I did, yes. Believe me, if there had been another option, I would have taken it. As for the rumours, I do not deny them. They are true. However, I suspect that the reality will disappoint your wild imagination.”
Semras blushed furiously.Herwild imagination? What was he trying to imply? He thought far too highly of himself. Velten might have been handsome—far more so than she liked to admit even in the privacy of her mind—but there was no fixing his rotten personality.
And he was an inquisitor.
His smirk returned, and she grimaced. He had noticed her blushing scowl. “I do take the witches I investigate to my room at night, but only because they are the safest by my side. They sleep in their beds,alone. I do not touch them; I do not seduce them. I keep themsafe. Surely, you will raise no objection to that.”
He drew closer. A pleasant smell of musk and wood essence hit Semras’ nose at his proximity, and she stepped back until the bed’s frame halted her retreat. The feeling of her legs touching the mattress sent a shiver through her gut.
“They say that—”
“That I trade pardons for sexual favours?” His blunt words embarrassed her. His mocking laugh even more. “That would be incredibly unethical. Who exactly are ‘they’? Maldoza? He does not know me.” Velten huffed, running his hand through his hair. “Listen, witch. I had intended for us to converse about this beforehand, but it is now quite late. I have very little patience left, so I will be frank. Maldoza told me the sword-bearers harassed you today. I do not like it. What is unknown breeds fear, and fear breeds rising mobs. It only takes a spark, and from what I see of your temperament so far … it would not be difficult to get one out of you.”
The witch scoffed and looked aside. “If you didn’t constantly try to get a rise out of me—”
