Whack!
Coins exploded from the bag like metallic fireworks. She continued her frantic assault until the two men dropped like sacks of wet flour.
Lucy stared.
The shaking didn’t start until it was over.
The Baroness stood panting, hair wild, eyes blazing with aristocratic wrath. “No one touches my—my—my Lucy.”
Lucy blinked. “Your… Lucy?”
“My responsibility,” the Baroness corrected, voice wobbling. “Obviously.”
Lucy’s lips curled into a slow grin. “Uh-huh.”
The Baroness quickly composed herself. “Are you harmed?”
“No.” Lucy swallowed, her chest unexpectedly warm. “Thank you.”
The Baroness lifted her chin with a huff. “Good. Handbags are expensive.”
The two walked back in, the Baroness looking like she’d survived a windstorm and Lucy smiling despite herself.
Sylva glanced up from the table. “What happened to you two?”
Lucy dropped into a chair. “The Baroness just wiped the forest floor with two men using a purse.”
Sylva’s eyes widened. “Respect.”
Basil rushed over. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” Lucy said. “But my worldview has shifted.”
The Baroness folded her hands primly. “Nothing happened.”
“Lie,” Sylva said.
Lucy snorted so hard she choked.
Basil and the Baroness locked eyes for a second too long, both blushing, both instantly looking away.
Lucy groaned. “I swear, if you two fall in love in front of me, Iwilleat rocks.”
Basil: “We’re not—”
Baroness: “We would never—”
Sylva: “Both lies.”
Lucy slapped her forehead. “I hate traveling.”
Sylva smirked. “No, you don’t.”
Lucy glared at the table. Maybe she didn’t hate it entirely, but it was definitely trying to kill her.
The inn eventually settled into something resembling sleep.
The bard stopped playing. Someone extinguished a lantern. The smell of burned onions faded just enough to be replaced by wet wood and old smoke.
