“Nothing.” But she looked genuinely delighted, though I couldn’t fathom by what.
I shook my head. “Shall we get started?”
“Sure. How do we begin?” She hopped on the table, her legs dangling over the edge. Peering up at me with big brown eyes, she struck me once again as the antithesis of the guild members I’d once known. There was something bright in her expression—a kind of eagerness and exuberance that betrayed the guild’s rules. Outward displays of happiness were highly frowned upon, as were all manner of enjoyable things: drinking mead, laughing uproariously with friends, engaging in intimacy…
If she was a member of the guild, she’d have taken a vow of celibacy.Andsobriety.
An idea sparked to mind. There might be a quicker way to confirm who and what she was. And as tempting as it was to lean in and try to kiss her now—just to go ahead and get it done—I wouldn’t take things that far. I was an orc with monstrous tusks. She wouldn’t want to kiss me, even if shewasn’tpart of the guild.
“I’ll help you out with the sketch, then we’ll take the afternoon off,” I said, carefully watching her face. “I don’t usually work Freyasday anyway. The local minstrels play an entire set at the tavern, and the whole village usually turns out for it.”
Something flashed in her eyes, but it was gone just as quickly as it had appeared. “Oh. Right. And you normally go to this minstrel evening, do you?”
I arched a brow. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“You said yourself you don’t have a lot of friends.”
“Don’t see what that has to do with sitting in a tavern, enjoying some songs and some ale,” I muttered, though I knew she had me there. Ihadtold her I didn’t have friends. Should have kept that fucking morsel of information to myself.
“So you just sit in the tavern alone,” she said skeptically.
“What does it matter if I do?” My frown deepened. “We’re going to the tavern later, and you’re going to like it.”
She blinked and sat up a little straighter, where she still perched on my worktable. “Já já, Captain.”
I squinted at her. “You’re not going to argue with me?”
She shrugged. “Didn’t want to give you an excuse to toss me over your shoulder and carry me there, kicking and screaming.”
The mental image flashed in my mind, and a strange tug went through me as I pictured her long brown hair tumbling over her shoulders while she gripped me, squealing. I blinked, shaking away those thoughts. Frida was a gorgeous lass, but I couldn’t let myself forget—even for a moment—who she might be.
Tonight, I would find out the truth about her. If she was a member of the Assassin’s Guild, she’d beg off the ale. She’d refuse to dance. She’d never allow me to flirt with her. And then I could relax—or find a way to trap her here.
8
FRIDA
After Rune sketched a new version of the fence, he showed me to the room where I’d ‘live’ for the foreseeable future. The shuttered windows were flung wide, and the midday sun cast the timber floor in yellow. A small bed with a straw mattress was tucked into the corner, where a towel had been set on the patchwork quilt.
An oil lamp perched on the bedside table, along with a stack of leather-bound books, covers worn and faded, as if they’d been loved well. The ivy from the main room spilled through the cracks in the walls here, too. Some sprouted purple buds, emitting a sweet scent that made my bones hum with a sense of…right.
For a moment, I stood there in the middle of the room with my eyes closed and head tipped back. I breathed it all in, letting the scents of the wilderness wash over me and banish the tension in my body. Despite everything—despite being trapped in a house with a mark who had a handsome face and a toe-curling laugh—at least I had the forest. If it all became too much to bear, I could walk outside and get lost in the trees for a while.I could run and hide in the uppermost branches, waiting for Louisa’s ship to return so I could sail away from this mess.
Of course, that would mean returning to the city of Vilmar and all that went with it. The guild and its suffocating walls, Erik’s demands, my father’s disappointment. I sat hard on the mattress, feeling lost. I didn’t know how I was going to do what I’d come here to do. And if I didn’t do it, I had no idea how I’d face going back.
Sighing, I opened my pack and unloaded all my belongings. There wasn’t much that would be useful here. Just a few changes of clothes, a waterskin, some arrowheads, a comb, and my bedroll. I tucked it all away in a single drawer, though I left the bedroll and waterskin in my pack, along with a few strips of jerky, just in case I needed to get out of here fast.
A soft knock sounded on the door. “Frida? Do you need anything? I wasn’t sure if you wanted to bathe before we headed into the village…”
I perked up a bit at that. After wearing my cloak out in the heat, my leathers were sticking to my skin, and I hadn’t given my hair a good wash in days. I crossed the room and pulled open the door. Rune hovered on the other side of it, fisted hand raised, like he was readying himself to knock again. He cleared his throat, and his hand dropped to his side.
“Sorry, I wasn’t sure if you heard me,” he said.
“I would love a bath,” I said brightly.
“I don’t have one,” he said regretfully, “but there’s a waterfall a short walk away. We’ve got time, if you want to use it.”
“Sure, that’d be great, thanks.” And perhaps I could get a few moments alone to poke around the woods for dragon evidence.
