“Grappling? Takedowns?” I counter.
“Fair game if you want. Sweeps but no kicks. You can use your weight and momentum against me for tackling and grappling, but that means I can do the same. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” I answer easily, my exuberant anticipation hiking with each breath I take.
This will be different from when Riall and I go at it, but I’m eager for the challenge. It’s exactly what I need right now.
“Oh, and one more thing,” Curio calls as he walks back to the bench and strips his shirt off. “We’ll be doing this naked.”
ChapterFifty-Five
Ipull the hood of my heavy cloak forward, hiding my face as much as I can while burrowing into the fur lining, seeking warmth. The wind’s frigid fingers try to wrestle it back, and I fight against the cloying grip as I scan our surroundings. The town of Krieger is about as inviting as the last four towns we’ve stayed in on our painfully slow trail up north. I didn’t think I’d actually miss the southern part of the Sagor Coast with their penchant for charred food and their objection to any form of seasoning, but I might trade their never-ending gloomy rain over the glacial winds and the frosty lands of the northern coastline.
At least the food’s better up here. I thought I might need to cut out my own tongue to save the rest of my mouth from melting the first time I shoveled in some northern fare. For fear of offending the innkeeper, I kept my blades sheathed and swallowed it down against my better judgment. Eventually my mouth went numb from the heavy spice they put oneverything, and I finished my meal, immediately adding it to my list of fucked-up things I’ve survived in life. I wasn’t prepared for the way it revisited me later.
I would question how I still have mates, but they weren’t immune to the stew’s gifts either. It was a terrifying time for all. I don’t know if we’re closer for it now or blocking it all out, but valuable lessons were learned. Our bowels and mouths have adjusted well enough to the bowls of fire and pain. And having spent some time in the gelid wintery weather, I understand much better why the food needs to scorch you from the inside out.
My stomach rumbles as I wait with Riall and Curio outside while Tarek secures us rooms at the only inn this provincial town has. It’s not a public house with a running kitchen unfortunately, which is why we’re waiting for Tarek, because food and an opportunity to listen to the locals swap stories is the next order of business.
Twilight teases the horizon, painting the town in thick sweeps of light purple and blue. The brightest stars are already winking in the sky as though in competition with one another for our admiration. The icy temperature feels like it’s dipping lower with every second that passes, and I nuzzle deeper into my furs.
The inn is on the edge of the main square, which is located in the middle of the town itself. A large fountain topped by a statue takes up the center of the cobbled square, but I can’t tell who the statue is under the blurring blanket of fresh powder that must have stopped dumping from the sky right before we got here—thank the moon for small miracles. If Krieger is anything like the last few towns we’ve watched, the statue is probably Queen Akiruh. There seems to be a lot of love for the late queen, or maybe there used to be and things like statues and artwork aren’t updated often.
“I’m freezing my sack off. What’s taking him so long?” Riall grumbles, wrapping his cloak tighter around him with a disgruntled huff that has white vapor puffing out of his mouth and disappearing into the cold night air. He’s like a fog dragon, not that there’s such a thing, but I picture him as one all the same.
“Eh. As long as your cock still works, I think Auset will manage,” Curio counters, and I can’t help but smile.
He’s not wrong.
Riall slaps a gloved hand against Curio’s chest as he laughs. Then he seems to think better about exposing his covered limbs to the elements and snatches his arm back into the warmth of his fur lining and body heat. The black of his cloak is stark against the pure white of the snow. Gleaming onyx clasps in the shape of small scorpions keep our coverings secured, and I don’t know where they found a beast with fur as thick and deep black as what’s keeping each of us warm right now, but I’m grateful for its death.
I worried the scorpion accessories might be too much of a dead giveaway as to who we are, but Riall assured me that it’s quite common for fae in the realms to wear an Order’s symbol. It’s like inviting that Order to watch over you as you go about your day. Apparently, there’s quite a devout Scorpion following that invokes the Order’s protection, as though my mates are more god than fae.
I smile as I think about how the other blade slaves used to talk about the Scorpions. I supposegodwasn’t a far stretch, with the way others recounted their feats and successes. Their skill was the talk of the ludere and their death count unmatched by any other Order to ever exist.
I’ll happily takegodoverprincess.
The Kings know, I’m far more suited to one than the other, although both are a ridiculous reach I shouldn’t waste time thinking about. I’ve tried not to ponder it too much since we started this hunt. All it does is make me confused and anxious, and I don’t see the point in worrying over things that are out of my control. I learned that hard lesson in the ludere, and the realms have hammered home the importance of it once more.
My own foggy puffs trail out of my mouth as I sigh and turn back to watch the inn door. I debate asking if I can shadow walk home and return in the morning when it’s hopefully warmer, but I know I’m just being silly and missing the feel of something that’s familiar and ours. I’m tired of staying in inns, alehouses, and taverns. It’s been a month and a half since we left and started this arduous trek up a coastline that was far bigger than I ever imagined. We’re no closer to finding anything, but we’re no further either, so there’s that, I suppose.
The door to the inn squeaks open, and out walks Tarek in all of his divine glory. My mouth waters at the sight of him, despite the new glamour he’s wearing that alters his hair and eyes. We’ve abandoned the skeletal glamour we’ve always worn when leaving the castle for a hunt, choosing anonymity and the ability to blend instead. We look like ourselves but tweaked slightly. My face and freckles are on display but my long thick tresses are currently a chestnut hue, and my eyes are cider brown. The Scorpions are their typical gorgeous selves, but their hair and eyes are a different hue. We mix it up with each town and village we come across.
“What took so long?” Riall gripes, and my stomach punctuates the question with a loud, unhappy groan.
Each of them looks down at the offended grumble and then back up at my face, which is thankfully hidden within the hood of my cloak. Why they aren’t wearing theirs is beyond me; my face feels like it could freeze right off with only a couple seconds of exposure.
“The keeper insisted on giving me a personal tour of the entire property, including an extensive one of her rooms. What she was hoping would happen on the new settee she just upholstered, I don’t want to think about too hard.”
Curio barks out a laugh while Tarek shudders and pulls me to him. I smile, but I eye the inn with interest. Seeing that, Tarek chuckles, the deep sound reverberating through me as it tumbles from my chest down my body until it stops deliciously in my cunt.
“Should I educate her on the error of her ways now or later?” I ask absently, glaring at the jostling curtain at the front window where the eager innkeeper is most certainly getting an eyeful.
“Pretty sure a town this small would notice if their only inn minder went missing,” Curio teases.
I roll my eyes. “I’m not going to kill her. I’m just going to make her listen to me fuck the three of youveryloudly all night and all day until she learns to make better decisions with her life. A life that could be very short and very painful if she’s not careful.”
I turn to the window and point at it so she knows that I know she’s looking. There’s a jolt of movement, and the curtain instantly flutters shut. The Scorpions laugh, plumes of white pouring out of their mouths as though even the icy air wants a taste of their mirth.
