I grimaced. “It's not a joke. He didn't leave word?”
“No, the fucking Dragon King didn't leave word with us to let some raggedly shit stain into the royal castle to see him,” one of them said.
I instantly memorized their faces. “You're going to regret insulting me.”
The men stopped laughing and lifted their swords.
“Get the fuck out of here, Ralty,” the other man, a Brandva with an impressive pair of black horns, growled. “You have ten seconds.”
“Just check with the King's Guard,” I said. “I'm telling you, the King is expecting me. My name is Ru—”
The Brandva's sword came forward and stopped an inch away from my nose, literally cutting off my words.
“Fine,” I snarled. “I'll remember you two.” I turned and trudged back into the snow.
After several minutes of walking, I managed to find another carriage and spent more of my precious coins to get back to the Forgotten. Then I hurried home, grumbling the entire way about what a fool I'd been. I hadn't even gotten paid.
Navigating the streets of the Forgotten in the dead of winter and after dark was an experience no one should have to endure. Bleak during the day, my district was nightmarish under these conditions. I climbed the stairs to my apartment door, then let out a sigh of relief. My traps were still intact. Everyone in the Forgotten with the sense and means to do so laid traps around the entry points of their home. And if you came back to find them sprung, you didn't venture in without a few of your toughest friends.
Luckily, that wasn't necessary.
I disabled the trap on the door, went inside, and locked the door behind me, barring it as well. It wasn't toasty warm in my apartment, but it was a lot better than it was in the streets. And I had a few heating stones to help with that. I went to their canisters and activated them before removing my cloak. The enchanted stones made quick work of the cold, driving it back outside where it belonged.
Once the main room was tolerable, I got undressed and headed into the bathroom to shower. The hot water finished warming me, and I sighed under the spray as my muscles unwound. Then I remembered why I was in the Forgotten instead of the castle.
Cursing, I soaped up, then rinsed off. They had turned me away for one of two reasons. Either Cynric had used the chance to get rid of me and get out of paying me, or he had forgotten to leave word with the gate guards. My survival instincts screamed the King was as big an asshole as any you'd find outside the castle walls, but the rational part of my mind kept replaying the way he stopped me from leaving that morning.
“If he wanted me gone, all he had to do was let me leave,” I said as I left the bathroom in a towel. “And it's not as if he can't afford to pay me.”
I concluded it was a mistake, but there wasn't any way for me to reach the King and tell him about it.
“Fuck,” I muttered as I pulled on some fresh clothes. “I shouldn't have left his side. Everyone knows when you find something valuable, you don't leave it lying there for someone else to take. I fucked up.” I sat on my bed and dropped my head into my hands. “I had a chance with the fucking Dragon King, and I fucked it up.”
“Ru'din!” a voice filtered into my apartment from outside.
I sat up. “What the fuck?”
“Ru'din of the Midnight Clan!”
I ventured to my door and cracked it open.
“Ru'din! Has anyone seen Ru'din?”
“What the fuck?” I muttered again as I grabbed my cloak. Slipping it on, I hurried outside and along the open walkway that ran before the second-floor apartments. At the end, I got a good view of the street.
Several men in Horns uniforms and heavy cloaks walked down the sidewalks calling my name. A Horns carriage was parked a block down, the golden crest on its side visible even from a distance.
“I'm Ru'din!” I shouted. “What the fuck do you want?”
No one else came out to see what was up, but I knew everyone was at their windows, watching and listening. It was best to be aware of all that went on near your home, especially when it involved a member of your clan.
The nearest soldier looked up at me and cursed.
I started laughing.
It was the Brandva who wouldn't let me past the castle gate.
“Fuck, it is you,” the Brandva said.
