Page 71 of Blood of the Fairest

I keep my mouth shut again, but my resolve must show on my face because when Eris catches my eye in the window's reflection, he nods.

It's a silent agreement. Verena detests violence, so we will not tell her when something like this happens again.

"I seriously don't want to ask this, but knowing my brain, I have to," the ravishing woman sighs. "What did you do with the body?"

My gaze moves to her once more. "Nothing. I returned to check that you were unharmed."

"So there's just a corpse sitting around outside the secret passage? Superb. If it wasn't haunted before, it definitely is now."

Her question is a reminder that she's not of this world. Curious, I tip my head.

"Do the witchfolk in your land not collect the bones of the dead?"

Verena's dark blue eyes widen. "Bones?"

I nod. "Witchfolk use them for magic spells and as a form of currency with one another."

"Everyone in Eidengrau knows that dead bodies left unsupervised outdoors will quickly be spirited away by witchfolk," Eris agrees. "But only human bodies. Bones of animals, monsters, and other witchfolk are completely useless, of course."

"Of course," she repeats flatly.

"Even in Aurefeld, where magic is strictly forbidden, abandoned corpses disappear," he goes on. "Some find it rather useful for avoiding the stink of death—although most try to bury their loved ones quickly, so they will not be lost forever to an unmarked grave in the shadows of the Loomdark. I'm sure that's where the witchfolk will take whatever remains of your would-be assassin, after he has lost his bones."

Verena stares at both of us for a long moment before shuddering with her entire body.

"Ew. Okay, new topic. I should go back and apologize for running out on Snow White, but first…" She regards me, thoughtful. "Since I've already snapped and drank from you once, and since your B-word is disturbingly good, maybe it's better if I just command you to leave the castle and forget about this whole sworn-obedience-vow schtick."

I tense, finding the idea of leaving her side far fouler than I can comprehend.

Before I can remind her that I will never harm her, or explain that there is no true release from my life of servitude except by Eldrunia herself, Eris speaks again.

"Feeling far more confident with Merrick and other potential allies on their way, are you? Still, keeping a magically-pledged huntsman around for extra protection can't hurt."

Though this lost soul is strange, I appreciate his mirror-bound presence at this moment.

Verena idly rubs her bruised hand, looking away.

"I beg to differ. What if the next time I'm trying to sneak back in through my secret passage, he thinks I'm an assassin and kills me without asking a single question, like he did with poor Boneless Bob?"

I earned my reputation as a legendary warrior in Nordhjem at such a young age that this sudden need to prove my capability feels completely foreign.

Since Verena is clearly not one to forget past harm, nor should she be, I square my shoulders.

"Keep me at your side always, and I shall know every disguise you wear. I will not hurt you again. If I do, command me to leave."

If she does command me to leave her, I would suffer greatly until my death, and my afterlife would be one of bitter, never-ending solitude. After all, I pledged a lifetime of devotion and obedience to her by Eldrunia's sacred tears—and I cannot fulfill that if I am not at her side until my death.

But there is no use telling her that, for I intend to prove I am a worthy protector.

After a moment, Verena gives in. "Who am I to say no to Thor? Fine, stick around. But if you're going to be staying in the castle until I blow this fairy tale popsicle stand, do you have some belongings to move in? Clothes, boots, more shiny axes, stuff like that?"

My single bag of belongings and valuables is safely stashed at a home of kind northerners living near Isenhold. They'll have kept it safe for me, as usual.

I nod. "I'll retrieve my things and return at once."

"No rush, big guy."

She seems relieved as I leave her in the alcove.