Page 39 of Black Sea

Roxior remained unmoved, yet his gaze burned with anger. “We’re done here,” he sentenced, dismissing him with a waving of his hand.

“Master,” Amlach said in an almost imperative tone, stepping forward. “Take us with you. And after we help you to get justice, take us back in person to the Lands of the East, and we promise you that our kings will reward you three times the amount you will spend today to save us.”

Greed burned like a blue fire in Roxior’s irises. Unlike Captain Escrain, he had no reason to fear for his life if he came to our land.

And he wanted all that money.

He wanted it more than his revenge, perhaps.

And Amlach had sensed it.

Roxior gave us a light, oily smile. “You’re good at talking, Commander,” he said in a buttered tone. “For a soldier.”

Amlach’s smile was even more subtle. “Everyone has their hidden talents, Master.”

Indeed, I thought as I frowned. And I suspected he was hiding many others.

In the stasis that followed, I stared sideways at Amlach. His face brimmed with arrogant conviction, and his gaze was so intense that a strange feeling twisted in my stomach.

A feeling that became even sharper when Roxior turned his attention to Escrain, his eyes shining like gems in the smoke cloud covering his face.

“So be it,” he declared.

22

“Come to my house tomorrow night to meet with my treasurer and collect your gold, Escrain,” Roxior told him. He set the pipe down on the table and lost interest in us, focusing instead on the cheese slices arranged in a radial pattern on a plate beside the fruit.

The captain took off his cocked hat and dipped into a deep, theatrical curtsey. “With great pleasure. Thank you, Master.” He straightened his back and smirked at Amlach and me. “Farewell, lovebirds. Play nice.”

His men gathered the unsold prisoners and left the room, likely heading to the Masters and Mistresses in the other private rooms.

One of the two slaves near the family and the two young men approached us. She was in her seventies, with sunken green eyes and drooping eyelids. A web of fine wrinkles covered her stern face, and a few blonde strands remained among her short gray hair. A rust-colored tint stained her lips, mirroring the hues of her dress with ochre embroidery.

“Come with us,” she said, and with a sharp nod, she ordered her companion to get the couple with children and the boys moving.

We followed them to leave the room, and I caught Roxior’s dark gaze before crossing the threshold.

“And that’s how you negotiate for your own life, Elf,” Amlach mocked me as we walked through the corridors to leave the temple.

I cut him a glare, and he smirked.

“Do you speak Elvish?” I asked point-blank.

He frowned slightly, his eyes focused ahead. “What makes you think that?”

“The fact that you know what I told my soldiers before the battle began.”

His eyebrows went up as he gave me an indulgent look. “I took a guess, Nauriel.” He paused, then jerked his eyes away from me. “And I’m a good watcher. Your brother seemed quite annoyed, so I assumed you gave an order he disapproved of.”

I observed him suspiciously. “I don’t believe you,” I said in Elvish.

Amlach stopped abruptly, grabbed the chain linking us, and pulled me toward him. “Why the fuck did you just speak to me in your language?” he growled under his breath, trying not to draw even more attention from onlookers.

“I don’t believe in coincidences,” I replied harshly in the common tongue, my heartbeat racing and every fiber of my being screaming for me to get closer to him.

To cling to him.

Amlach shortened the distance between us, and the back of his fingers brushed mine. He leaned over me until his warm breath puffed against my cheeks. “So now you don’t believe me anymore? After all that we’ve been through together? After I literally saved your ass in that fucking room?”