“What will they do to her?” Yvette asked. Tears building a tightness in her throat.
“Fate’s teeth, darling, as if I care!” Victor exclaimed. “I don’t understand this obsession of yours. She’s a mercenary, a criminal. They’ll likely bury her in some prison somewhere, and it’ll be no less than she deserves.”
Yvette shook her head. The gravity of what they’d done settled like an iron weight on her shoulders. “But-”
Victor grabbed her arms, silencing her as his fingers dug into her skin. His force drove her until her naked back collided into the bedpost. Pain lit up her spine before she could comprehend what had happened. “Enough!” His voice surrounded her, washing away the pain in a wave of terror. “Enough, Yvette,” he said, shaking her.
Shock held her, breathless, paralyzed. She shrank beneath the fire in his eyes, rage never before pointed toward her. Her blood chilled with fear, disbelief.
Tears burst from her, violent and undeniable.
Victor released her suddenly as the first sob broke her lips as if scalded. He stepped away, speaking under his breath in exasperation. His shape paced before her, no more than a blur swimming through her vision. When he finally turned back to her, Yvette shrank away.
“Darling, pet, look at me.” His hands found her, cupping her cheeks gentle as a promise. “I’m sorry. You know how my anger gets the better of me. Please, don’t cry.” His thumbs brushed away her tears. But all she could feel was the ache trailing down her back, the bruises swelling there.
Yvette looked into his eyes, penitent and beautiful. No sign of the monster unleashed but a moment ago.
“Let go of me,” Yvette breathed.
He did at once.
Victor looked at her in confusion, as if trying to understand why he hadn’t had a choice. Every sentence had been crafted with care ever since their first meeting to ensure that she never gave him a command, or anyone else. She’d hidden this power from him because she’d always known he would misuse it. Now her cursed tongue was the only thing she trusted to keep her safe.
“I’m leaving, Victor,” Yvette said, blinking away tears to run freely down her cheeks as she pulled herself to her feet. “I’m going to fix this.”
He was silent, perhaps still in disbelief at what was happening.
“Don’t try to stop me.”
Florian
Florian took a drink of his ale, alone. Though there were others still milling about the common room of the Bear’s Brew, none paid him any mind. The mad revelry of the festival had passed days ago, as had the novelty of his strangeness. Now the farmers and bakers and what have you continued about their business as if he wasn’t even there.
The rest of the Blades were already upstairs. There had been a nearly unanimous agreement to turn in early after Rhea had decided that they would begin the trek home tomorrow at first light. Florian had held her off as long as he could. After Keira disappeared, they’d spent days searching for her, but there was nothing to be found. Their best hope had been Thaddeus, who Florian had sent to find her the day after her disappearance, but the cursed bird had never returned. It wasn’t entirely surprising. Considering her magic, Keira could have gone anywhere. For all they knew, she could be back at Grimlocke House now, as Lilith suggested.
But none of their excuses set Florian’s mind at ease. Something was wrong. The others hadn’t been there when he’d gone to speak with Caspian at the keep. The night of the festival, the pair had been so in love it almost hurt to watch. Florian had seen firsthand the adoration in Caspian’s eyes, and had even imagined what it would be like to feel that deeply about another person. What could have possibly happened to turn him into thewretched, heartbroken man Florian had met the next morning, the man who had insisted that Keira was justgone? Why wouldn’t she have come to tell them she was leaving or why?
These thoughts had tortured him for days, and he was no closer to finding answers. Even so, he could no longer sway the others to stay here. Even the last few days, they had lingered to humor him. A bitter part of himself wanted to rage at them for not caring what had become of her. But in reality, it had been a week without a sign. He didn’t even know if staying was the wisest choice anymore. Rhea had cited that if Keira didn’t want to be found, short of magical means, they were not going to find her. Though she was undoubtedly right, as usual, it didn’t make leaving feel any less like an abandonment.
Florian toasted his own sourness. As he lowered the mug, he stilled. A woman had just wandered in,the woman. He recognized her features in an instant, sharp brown eyes and smooth porcelain skin. She was dressed much too fine for a place such as this. Her dress was a dusky rose color, and though it lacked ornamentation, the lustrous fabric alone was clearly expensive.
As her delicate hands pulled back the hood of her cloak, Florian found himself holding his breath. He was not disappointed. Her coppery hair was every bit as magnificent as he’d remembered. The fox’s eyes moved about the tavern purposefully. Florian stood, unable to contain himself. He didn’t care if she was looking for someone else. She was about to find him.
His eagerness got the better of him. Usually he armed himself with some gambit or coy line to offer a partner. A clever twist of humor and flattery to set them off guard and show that he was fun and harmless… and interested. But his mind was utterly blank as he approached her, other than an overwhelming need to know her.
Thus, he found himself in her path with nothing to say. She looked at him, brows knotting in annoyance. And curse him if he didn’t find it utterly charming.
“Hello,” Florian said, a stupidly wide and uncharacteristically transparent smile spread over his face.
She recoiled, looking purposefully away from him.
He was butchering this.
“Can I help you with anything?” Fate’s teeth, had he forgotten how to flirt?
Her brown eyes found him long enough to glance over his features. “I doubt it.” She looked past him, clearly wanting to be rid of him. There was a purposefulness about her, a goal in mind beyond a pleasurable evening in the tavern.
“Since I can’t be of any help, why don’t I buy you a drink? To apologize for my ineptitude?”
