“I am not putting money in the pockets of people who support the Astraea.”
“You’re not.” Keeran forced himself to remain calm, reminding himself just how sheltered she’d been. “Every business in Drias, every business across Demuto will have a sign similar to that, not because they support the Astraea, but because they fear them.”
Aelia shook her head violently. “That’s no excuse, they’re fucking cowards?—”
“They are not cowards.” Keeran stopped her, suddenly too tired of her attitude to listen to another word. “You saw what the Astraea did in Callodosis. It’s no different here. Whole businesses are being ransacked because they still employ humans, and regular artemians are murdered in cold blood for nothing more than serving them. These are normal people, Aelia. Can you honestly blame them for choosing to survive, to protect their families?”
The anger dropped from her face, leaving bitter resentment in its place.
“Fine.” She snatched the key from his hand. “I’ll eat in my room. See you in the morning.”
And without a backward glance, she stormed back into the tavern. Keeran bunched his fists against his rising frustration, raising his head to the darkening sky and letting out a long breath. When he was sure he wasn’t going to put his fist through the wall, he made his way to his room. He put his ear to the wall to make sure Aelia was in and safe before heading back downstairs. He needed information, and where better to get it than the local tavern?
Half of Drias seemed to fill every spare inch of the place. He tried to breathe past the smell of sweat as he crossed to the bar, a path clearing before him as artemians squeezed into their neighbours to get out of his way. He searched the tavern and found what he was looking for all too easily.
It was a fact of life that in every sad little tavern, there were sad little men, and this one was no exception. If Keeran was being generous, he would describe his target as middle-aged. His face told of the toll life had taken on him. Thin red veins spidered their way across the loose skin of his cheeks, the grey of his stubble doing nothing to compliment the similar pallor of his complexion, whilst the hair on his head had deserted him completely. He clutched a tankard with a desperate grip, the only lifeline his miserable existence had thrown him.
Although his voice was lost in the din of the room, he was clearly talking just that little bit too loudly into the ear of a younger man who wasn’t even bothering to look at him. Keeran’s target was undeterred, slinging his arm over the younger man’s shoulder whilst he continued, looking earnestly into his face as he persevered with his prattling. It was the last straw, apparently.
The younger man shoved the arm off and got up to leave, hardly uttering a word as he left to find a quieter spot to drink away the day’s stresses in peace. In a room too busy to walk in, Keeran’s man sat at the only empty table. He looked around theroom, too drunk to really mind. That was probably why he drank in the first place.
Keeran went to the bar and ordered two drinks from the all-too-obliging barmaid before joining the man. His eyes boggled as Keeran slid onto the bench beside him, trapping him against the wall, but it wasn’t too long before they settled onto the second drink. Keeran slid it in front of him.
“Mind if I join you?”
CHAPTER TEN
Keeran cracked open a bleary eye and was confronted with the dark box the inn generously called a room. The thin sunlight struggling through the filthy glass made it seem no less tragic than it had the night before. He pushed himself off the lumpy mattress, untangled himself from the itchy sheets and swung his legs off the bed. The floorboards were cold on his bare feet, but he hardly noticed, his mind springing into action with its usual unforgiving velocity.
He dropped his head into his hands, his fingers sinking into his hair as the events of the past couple of days hit him.
He’d seen Aelia, developed some kind of immediate obsession, stooped to a little light stalking, had comethisclose to kissing her, and pissed her off royally. Now, somehow, he found himself stuck on the receiving end of no small amount of hostility on a journey he really should have been making alone.
He groaned at the thought of telling her what he’d learnt the night before. If it wasn’t so awful, he’d have laughed at himself. There he’d been, explaining the ways of the world to her outside the inn last night, when really he was just as naïve as she was. Never in his wildest dreams had he expected things to have escalated so quickly.
He didn’t want to believe it, but several people in the tavern had confirmed that the Astraea were now working under the King’s authority. What no one seemed to understand, however, was why.
Keeran’s head shot up as he heard movement next door, his hearing easily picking up the sound of her door closing through the thin walls. He shoved himself off the bed, leapt into some clothes, and in a matter of moments, was jogging down the stairs after her.
Keeran’s heart sank when Aelia turned to face him, already reaching for the handle of the front door. The purple circles beneath her eyes had darkened overnight, and the redness rimming them suggested she’d spent much of the night awake and crying. Any resentment he felt for her behaviour towards him withered away at the sight.
“Morning.” He crossed the room in a few strides. “Where are you heading to?”
“I need some supplies. I wanted to head out early so we can make a move as soon as possible.” She shoved the door open and stepped blinking into the sunlight.
“I’ll come with you,” he said, already heading in the direction of the main street.
“I do not need you to come with me,” she bit out from behind him, making him stop and turn towards her. “You seem to find it hard to believe that anyone could survive without your constant intervention, so let me clear this up for you. I do not need your help,” she said, emphasising each word.
And just like that, his resentment sprang back into place. When was the last time someone had spoken to him like she did? Had they ever? She was obnoxious, ungrateful, and downright rude. He opened his mouth to tell her as much, the words primed and ready on his tongue, but he managed to stop himself just in time. The tiny fragment of himself that wasn’t sick of hershit reminded him she’d been through hell, and him losing his temper was only going to make things worse.
“As you wish. What time do you want to be ready to leave?” he said quietly, anger simmering in his tone despite himself.
“I don’t know. When I’m done,” she tossed over her shoulder as she sauntered off, limp noticeably improved from the day before. At least she seemed to be using the poultice he’d given her.
He glared after her, quietly seething at the audacity of the woman. He seriously considered marching to his room, packing his bags, and leaving without her. But the moment she rounded the corner, he knew he wouldn’t. As soon as she was out of sight, that feeling of anxiousness returned, uncomfortably churning in the pit of his stomach. Grumbling to himself, he stalked in the opposite direction.
He swept down the foul street, letting his frustration radiate off him, the natural aversion people had to him paying off as even the meanest-looking thugs gave him a wide berth. He wasn’t the kind of target they were looking for; far from it.
