Nyssa caught Aydra’s wink before she stepped slightly away, as though giving the man space for him to speak with Nyssa.
He sputtered and acted as though he wanted to take her arm to escort her inside, but one of the women they’d brought with them interrupted. She gave Nyssa a short nod and took the man’s arm.
“Hagen’d like a word before we go inside,” the woman said quietly to him.
The man nodded and excused himself.
But Nyssa hardly noticed.
Because as the Elder left, his guard—the tall one— approached.
Brown curls falling over his eye, he reached for her hand. A leering smile still soft on his lips.
Though when he spoke, she realized his accent was thicker than the Elder’s had been, and she blinked at the quickness of his tongue.
“Sorry, didn’t catch your name,” she managed.
“Falke,” he repeated.
“Fauk?” she questioned, leaning forward to understand him better.
“Falke,” he said again, and this time she noted the ‘L’ in the word.
“It’s nice to meet you, Falke,” she said, starting to get nervous and trying to think of any small talk she could think of. “How was your journey?”
She hated small talk.
The man began to speak animatedly, telling her of the mountains they crossed and how long it took them to travel—even making her laugh when he talked about one of the carriages losing a wheel.
She didn’t understand half of what he said, but he looked pretty saying it, so she tried her hardest to listen.
All she really wanted to do was pretend to show him his room and take him back to hers. Unfortunately, she hadn’t had any liquid courage to merely ask for that yet.
Maybe she could suggest a trip to the kitchens.
Rhaif announced for them to head inside, and Nyssa’s attention diverted as one of the Blackhands nearly ran over Rhaif in pursuit of food. She snorted and clapped her hand over her mouth, her other hand grabbing onto Falke’s arm as she bent over in stifled laughter. She was nearly crying when she finally collected herself.
“Y’okay?” Falke asked, holding her elbow.
Nyssa blew out an amused breath and wiped her face. “Yeah. Fine. I just—“
“Dag’s a bit aggressive when y’mention food,” Falke said, grinning at his friend. “Y’should see him during our celebrations. Right slob. Though the wife keeps him in line mostly.”
“He’s married?” Nyssa asked. “Is she here?”
Falke shook his head. “Not this time.” He smiled down at her and held out his arm. “Shall we?”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
AYDRA LAUGHED SO much at the Blackhands that she nearly forgot to eat.
Hagen and Dag didn’t let their people make their own plates of food. Instead, they each grabbed the whole platters of food and proceeded to ask where the nearest terrace was so they could mingle outside.
Because apparently, a few of them had never seen a beach or the ocean before, and they’d rather have looked at that than the walls of some stuffy castle.
“—off, mate,” Hagen shoved Draven after they all settled down and broke off into groups. “You had to break a Rhamocour egg?”
Aydra had never seen Draven grin so broadly, and it swelled her heart to see him as he was with his friend.
