Zanna barked a laugh. “He most certainly does not.”
Cole raised his eyebrows and smirked at Zanna. The look on his face was so disarmingly adorable that Mistel couldn’t help but giggle.
Zanna sighed and lifted her hands in defeat. “Fine. I’ll ask him. But I’m certain he’ll say no.” She got up and walked away.
“I can tell you’re worried.” Mistel reached up and pressed the wrinkle between Cole’s eyes. “You show it right here.”
He twisted his neck and chuckled. “A little,” he admitted. “Zanna has keys, and they both can use a sword much better than me. But what if we can’t get him out?”
“You will,” Mistel said, squeezing his hand. “Cole Tanniyn, I’ve never seen you fail at anything.”
His brow furrowed adorably, and the vulnerability in his expression nearly broke her. “Guess you haven’t been around me long enough, then.”
Always so negative, especially in regard to himself. “A situation I’m happy to remedy.” She wished she could kiss him right there in that greasy old tavern, but that would only embarrass him. Plus, someone would likely see and make a fuss. And Mistel was tired of drunken men whistling or shouting at her. What she and Cole shared was private.
“Hello, you two. What’ll you have?” Rilla Vandy set four tankards on their table and started filling them with ale.
“What are you doing here?” Mistel asked.
“The Boar had an opening for night shifts,” she said, “and since I work days for Merrygog, I figured I could pick up some extra money. You four eating tonight?”
“We ate before we came,” Cole said. “But thank you for the drinks.” He set his hand over the last empty tankard to keep Rilla from filling it. “Anna isn’t staying. She has to work tonight.”
“No Anna.” Rilla snatched up the empty tankard.
“Which server quit?” Mistel asked. “I’ve gotten to know them, so I’m curious.”
“Don’t know,” Rilla said. “Best of luck on your performance tonight.”
Cole watched her walk away. “Bet it was Kosotta Brovau who quit.”
“The woman Kurtz talked to?”
“He spooked her.”
It certainly seemed that way. Mistel wondered what the woman knew about King Axel’s death and if she’d really left town or was simply hiding.
A gust of icy wind swept through the room, and the noise dimmed. Mistel looked up to see Nash Erlichman walk inside, flanked by Drustan Fawst. A few men called out somber greetings to Nash, and a pang throbbed in Mistel’s chest. She had liked Joonas Erlichman. She still couldn’t believe he and Sir Fenris had abducted a little girl, the hunxes.
Nash and Drustan approached their table.
“Cole,” Nash said. “Miss Wepp.”
Cole stood and patted Nash’s arm. “I’m sorry about your father.”
Mistel met Nash’s eyes, which were bloodshot. “Our deepest condolences on your loss.”
Nash’s tight smile looked forced. “Thank you.” His gaze swept to Cole’s lute propped up on the small stage. “Would your band consider playing at the funeral tomorrow night? It would mean a lot to my family. My father loved music.”
“Of course,” Mistel said immediately, her heart going out to him. “We’d be honored.” She gestured toward the empty chairs. “Please join us.”
The men took seats as Rilla approached to take their orders.
Cole spoke low in Mistel’s ear. “Can I see you for a moment in the storage room?”
Uh-oh. His tone sounded serious. “Certainly. We’ll be right back.”
As Cole stood and walked away, a knot twisted in Mistel’s stomach. She pushed her chair back and followed.
