“I’m fine,” Giss said, heaping curses on Larsinc’s golden head.
The secret ride to town was long and chilly. Giss was really grateful to arrive so she could stand and stretch. She resisted the urge to reach back and rub her bottom.
The tavern attached to Larsinc’s temporary lodging proved to be warm and fragrant. And Lyris’s maid’s intel was good. Sitting in a corner, eating stew and looking over a star map was none other than her tormenter.
Gissandre slowed, waiting for the other girls to choose a table, one close enough to him that Faura could’ve reached out and tapped his shoulder. When Faura removed her wrap, Giss let out an exasperated hiss. The other girl’s scoop-neck top looked painted on. At least Giss had had the decency to put a long, soft sweater on over her skin pants which could be obscenely tight.
Several men turned immediately to stare at the girls. Giss stepped back, leaving room for the men who came over. When she turned her attention to the corner, she found Larsinc was sitting back in the bench seat, his green gaze on her.
When two other men stopped next to her, he rose. The man nearest was dark-skinned and played with a lock of her hair. Its pale color always drew attention.
“You’re late.” Larsinc said, catching her arm and drawing her to him and away from the other men. “She’s here for me.”
There were a couple of murmured protests, but when she didn’t speak, they stepped aside and moved closer to the table with the four other girls and a crowd of assembled men.
Cleery, who seemed to be enjoying the attention, spotted the object of the mission with Giss and lurched to her feet.
“Hello,” Giss said quietly to him, which she immediately regretted. They were not going to be on speaking turns. Not that easily.
Larsinc scrutinized her. “You’re not to leave the school on your own again.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I wasn’t alone.” She nodded at the other girls.
He gave them a quick dismissive look before pulling her to his table. Forced to sit, she let out a hiss of pain and immediately stood back up. He smirked, then he stood too, folding his arms over his broad chest.
“So?” he asked.
“Well, so!” Cleery said cheerfully as she looked up at him. “I see my bold friend pranced right over. I’m Lady Cleery of Morrich on Endricane. Extremely pleased to meet you.”
Larsinc studied Cleery curiously and then dismissed her, saying, “You can go. I’ll escort her back.”
Cleery gaped at him. “I don’t understand.”
“Hi! Hello,” Faura said, shoving past Gissandre to clutch Larsinc’s arm. “Where are we? What have we learned?”
Larsinc did not look pleased. The corners of Giss’s mouth curved up, and she took a step back as the four other girls surrounded Larsinc, pawing him the way slave girls were pawed at a market.
She turned, deciding to get herself a drink for the show.
“Gissandre, not another step,” he commanded.
Everyone froze, then looked between the pair of them.
“Are you—are you her brother?” Cleery asked, hopefully.
“Don’t touch that,” Larsinc said to Lyris, putting his hand over his sheathed knife that she’d been about to touch. “You’ll cut yourself.”
Lyris’s saucer eyes fixed on the knife for a second and then she spit out an apology. The girls stepped back in confusion.
“Over here. Now,” Larsinc said to Giss.
Gissandre glared at him, but took half a step toward the table. “I can’t. There’s such a crowd.”
Larsinc’s light brown brows rose, then he flashed a brief smile before shaking his head. “Is there a leader?” he asked, glancing at the other girls.
“I—” Cleery began, but Lyris cut her off.
“It was my maid who—”
