That night, Krose didn’t really get off to a good start, calling Jalay ‘Rienna’. Jalay wasn’t as forgiving as Arden about being called by another lover’s name. He did try feebly to say it was only because she was just there, but he gave up. Jalay was never going to be the one either, but he wasn’t too fond of the idea of her spreading that bit of info around.
Krose decided to take a walk that night to clear his troubled mind. Dinsch had been right; he was a coward and an idiot for letting her go, but it was done and he wasn’t going back on it now.
He wasn’t quite sure how far he had wandered while thinking; he knew the city well enough but by the time he snapped out of his troubled thinking, he had managed to end up in a dark alley.
He was less obvious about still carrying his weapons, but indeed, beneath his finery (he wore the same black leather boots and belt but had opted for a purplish brown fabric that was damn near close to the color of his hair), he concealed a bevy of deadly blades. Still, he realized it was pretty stupid to wander alleys at night alone, even in this part of the city.
Krose intended to hurry out but heard muffled cries and his sense of honor got the best of him. He hurried towards the sound, hoping the echoes weren’t leading him the wrong way, and rounded the corner to see a young woman pinned against the wall by two men, one trying to muffle her screams with a bandana, noting that the idiot had gotten bitten already trying to stop her screams with his hand. Krose drew the most wicked of his daggers and drew himself up in leashed near-black rage as he approached them.
“I’m thinking she doesn’t want to go with you, so you might want to release her,” Krose told them menacingly, his tone not at all allowing for room for them to refuse.
The one holding her hands to the wall shot an annoyed look at him.
“Mind your own damn business and go about your way,” the other one warned.
Krose rubbed his blades together to let them know he meant business and tried again.
“It wasn’t a suggestion,” he warned for the last time.
The men hesitated now, seeing him flip around the blades skillfully. They let the woman go and shot him an angry look.
“You’ll be sorry, you son of a whore,” the bitten one said as they fled.
The young woman started to take off without a word too as he put the blades away, but he grabbed her wrist, wanting to be sure she would be okay on her own. He was rewarded with a stinging slap to the face. He was getting those a lot lately, but not usually this hard either. Even so, he didn’t let go either.
“Hey, I’m not trying to claim you or anything; I’m just making sure you get home okay,” Krose assured her.
The young woman was nearly a head shorter than him with a head full of wavy long fire-red hair. Her skin was ivory and her hands were soft, telling him she was definitely a stranger to labor. Her eyes were large and a deep cobalt blue, her little pink mouth quivering in her anger. She wore a shabby gray hooded cloak with a tailored but plain green dress underneath.
“I don’t need your help!” she spat back like a cornered cat and tried to tug away.
“Sure, you were doing just fine on your own there,” Krose countered, having discarded chivalry for good old sarcasm in his bewilderment.
“Those idiots were my stepbrothers,” the woman told him now. He noticed how there was a tear in both her bodice and her skirt and his concern came back.
“Something tells me they weren’t feeling particularly brotherly,” Krose offered. The woman’s eyes were sizing him up now.
“What the hell are you doing around here dressed like that anyway?” she asked suspiciously.
“You know, normally I don’t just tell my business to strangers. I don’t even know your name,” Krose reprimanded her.
Again, the woman looked annoyed, like he was imposing on her.
“Fair enough. The name’s Alys,” she announced uncomfortably, her head tilted as if challenging him to say differently.
Alys. He had heard the name before, maybe in the papers that week. He could swear that the Contessa of Shalaigh had a daughter by that name. He then remembered it was an obit for the woman he had seen and his heart sank.
“The late Contessa’s daughter?” Krose asked, trying to hide his shock. If so, this one was definitely out of his league. He might be a hero and a successful businessman but no orphan would ever be good enough for a noblewoman of that caliber. It would explain her haughtiness, that’s for sure. Leave it to him to jump right to that line of thinking though. He chided himself for it and made himself relax. This encounter would be the last, surely, so no point in being bothered.
Alys suddenly seemed flighty again, but her tugs to get away were weaker now.
“So you know who I am now. Your turn,” she shot back.
Krose let go of her arm. He would follow her if she ran, but he wouldn’t detain her any longer.
“Krose. No family, no last name. I own the Heroes’ Tribute. Kinda just wandered over here trying to clear my head,” he admitted.
Alys smiled smugly now. It wasn’t a proper smile but it made her face prettier.
“Oh yeah, I saw your fliers but the idiots wouldn’t let me go. I really missed out; heard it was one hell of a party. Clearing your head, eh? Lady troubles?”
The language wasn’t noble, but he got the impression nobility wasn’t something she was particularly proud of at the moment. Stepbrothers attacking her and her mother was dead. Did her stepfather do nothing to protect her now that his wife was gone?
Krose was reminded of Rienna. It wasn’t usual for a woman to be so blunt, especially not a woman of nobility. The fiery hair and eyes was too much like Melchior for comfort but it was much prettier on a woman.
Krose narrowed his own eyes though, not really wanting to admit that much, no matter how right she was about his ‘lady troubles’. This only made Alys laugh.
“So it is. You already have one handprint on your other cheek. She was left-handed or else she had her right hand busy, so I might not have noticed if I weren’t the other,” Alys poked at his already sore mood. “In the doghouse now, I’m guessing.”
“It wasn’t serious and, like I said, the Tribute is mine, so my ‘doghouse’ has options,” Krose told her flatly, more irritated by the fact that she managed to get that much out of him.
“So the one that’s really got you careless, she’s not accessible…” Alys prodded further.
“I’ll escort you home, Alys, but I’m not going to discuss my love life with you,” he told her in no uncertain terms, folding his arms stubbornly. “Unless you feel like telling me why your stepbrothers were trying to rape you.”
He hadn’t meant to be so harsh and wished he hadn’t when a shadow crossed over her face. She set her jaw stubbornly still, tilting her head up defiantly.
“I’m not going back ‘home’ as you call it; that place isn’t home without my mother and I sure as hell don’t plan on losing my virginity to those assholes!”
Sheesh, another virgin, Krose thought, pushing his hand through his hair. She started off again while he was thinking but he laid his hand gently on her shoulder, preparing for another slap as she spun around again. This time though she just shot him a challenging look.
“Where are you headed then?” he asked her with a gentle exasperation this time, making doubly sure pity wasn’t in the mix. Stubborn girls hated pity.
She had the sense to think before answering this time, but ended up shrugging, her bravado slipping a bit.
“I don’t really know yet, but I’ll figure it out,” she told him with false confidence. He could see flashes of doubt and embarrassment in her eyes, wishing she had thought it through better. Maybe he wasn’t done with this girl after all. He still didn’t dare entertain touching this one. Between the virgin and the escaped noble situations, it still wasn’t his cup of tea. Trouble was something for the old Krose; this Krose was taking the straight and narrow.
Krose shook his head and stopped her from
leaving again.
“Ever been an inn hostess before? I’m not sure if you’ve been to the Tribute but it’s no dive and I don’t tolerate anyone harassing my staff. No one would think to look for a lady there… As long as you work, I can put you up for free. Too many people would talk if you were just being… kept.”
Krose could afford to put her up for free anyway, but she was a suspicious woman and he doubted she would take his charity. Or believe he didn’t expect any ‘favors’ in return.
Alys frowned and put her hands on her hips. He found it promising that she didn’t outright refuse. She tapped her foot and chewed on her bottom lip as she considered it.
Alys finally nodded. “I guess I could give it a try. Why are you helping me so much?”
“Because I’m a jerk and a coward,” Krose told her and he started to walk in the opposite direction, hoping she took the cue to follow. He heard her rushing footsteps moments later as she hurried to catch up. He was shocked again as he felt her latch onto his arm. He looked down at her but she wouldn’t meet his gaze so he looked ahead and let silence hang between them.
“Is that what she told you?” Alys asked carefully, unable to hide her curiosity but no longer wanting to force it either.
Krose smiled crookedly.
“No, she would never say that unless she was mad. My friend Dinsch is a bit more outspoken there. Have you ever met a Bryfolk?” he asked. The Bryfolk weren’t as common this far north, but they weren’t entirely rare either. She shook her head.
“My mother was pretty strict, for all the good it did her. I wasn’t exactly an easy child to have. My mother was a proper lady. Gods help her, she tried to make me one. Bryfolk don’t have nobility so I never had the pleasure of meeting one,” she told him, her stubborn suspiciousness dissolving as they talked.
“Dinsch and Seles are both Bryfolk; you’ll meet them shortly. Your secret is safe with them, I assure you. They are among my oldest and dearest friends,” Krose told her now.
Alys didn’t speak for a while, but she sounded vulnerable when she did.
“What if they find me?” Alys asked softly. He could tell she was worried they would turn her over.
Krose looked at her and the open fear there struck a chord in his heart.
“Then they’ll be sorry,” Krose echoed their threat now, only he sounded far more capable of making good on it.
To Krose’s surprise, Alys had really taken to the job. She made him nervous at first—she was confrontational and sharptongued and he had needed to intervene to keep her from coming to blows at times but she was a quick learner and he could tell Dinsch and Seles admired the little spitfire. The uptight girl began to loosen up as she warmed to the task and he noticed a sway to her walk that made him warier and protective. He didn’t dare point it out to her, but that little detail was drawing more male eyes than his own.
The main bar was being closed up for the night, Krose being helped by Dinsch and Seles as was usual. Dinsch sent Seles off to talk to Krose one to one and Krose was wary. Had his friend noticed how he watched over her? That he wasn’t taking women to his bed since he did? It wasn’t because of Alys though; Jalay had not been afraid to whisper about his slip-up and he took his promise to Alys seriously. He might like her, but she was still trouble.
“Two men came by just before, looking for her,” Dinsch told Krose now.
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” Krose shouted at Dinsch,
trying to push him out of the way to go check on Alys. “Because I didn’t want you to react like this and alert them.
I’m not stupid, Krose; I can see how much you like this girl,”
Dinsch shot back.
“Then get the hell out of my way, Dinsch—they’re not just
going to go away because you said she wasn’t here. You’re a
shitty liar, for one!” Krose screamed at him. He didn’t have time
to argue that Dinsch was wrong about his feelings for her. Dinsch sighed and let Krose go but followed closely on his
heels. On the way, Krose heard a familiar cry being muffled and
broke into a run, Dinsch speeding ahead of him now to get to her. Dinsch knocked the first brother off of her so hard that he was
dead before he hit the floor, his head making a sickening crack as
it hit the wall. Krose had his blades drawn and the other brother was backing away, his hands up in surrender, but Krose did not
slow.
“You had your chance to leave her alone, you son of a bitch,”
Krose hissed now and he stabbed the man. Krose kept stabbing
the bastard after he was already dead so Dinsch had to pull him
off and calm him as Alys held the torn front of her dress together,
trying to stop her sobs and the river of tears on her cheeks.
Dinsch grabbed up the bodies as if they were just sacks of grains
and hauled them out of the room and Krose staggered to his feet
and closed the door, balancing himself on his arm to gather
himself.
Krose turned his head, his anger deflated, but he dared not
touch her now.
“I’m sorry, Alys, I would have been here sooner if I could…”
Krose started but she shook her head and tried a smile. “It’s just a torn dress, I’m not hurt, I swear it,” Alys told him
with a slight tremble in her voice, although she held herself up
with more strength that he had right then.
Krose pushed away from the door and came over to inspect
her to see if that was so and she got up off her bed, holding the
front of her dress together to show him she was okay. He nodded
numbly but stood still.
Alys started to approach him, his blades still wet with
coagulating blood and gently took them from his hands one by
one and set them on the nearby table, taking one of his hands in
hers and willing him to look at her. Krose met her gaze hesitantly
and she touched his cheek. She released the front of her dress to
cup his face in her hands and placed a kiss on his lips. He stood
as still as a statue and Alys frowned at him.
She tried again, but still he did not move. She grabbed his
collar this time and pressed herself against him, her kiss much
rougher and insistent this time but she was stubborn and wrapped
her arms around his neck to deepen the kiss, biting his lip in
frustration.
He couldn’t contain a laugh as she pulled her head back
poutily.
“Why won’t you kiss me, jerk?” Alys disparaged against him. “Because I’m a coward,” he told her softly, stroking the small
of her back tenderly. “And you’re still a virgin and I’m covered
in blood.”
She grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards the bathroom. “Come on, then, I’m giving you a bath,” she told him
resolutely.
“I’m not bathing in blood.”
“A shower then. You still need someone to wash your back.” “I can reach my back.”
“Fine then, you can wash mine.”
“You’re still a virgin…”
Alys stopped and glared a challenge at him, her hip jutting
out, her breasts barely covered by the torn gap in her bodice. “I don’t suppose you’ve the nerve to fix that,” she gritted out.
He laughed again, which made her smile too. She stepped
forward and tugged at his short hair and his eyes darkened. She
grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the bathroom again. He
sighed but didn’t resist.
He couldn’t help but admit he was falling for this stubborn
woman.
Final Chapter: Maidens of Merschenez
Rienna was worn out by the time she managed to finish out
the planting of the flowerbed. In spite of originally feeling like the work was not worthy of a world hero, the task was no small feat and every muscle she had used to till and bed and care for the sprouts was singing no less than when she had been hours at the sword. In some ways, she was reluctant when she touched her treasured weapons at all; Belias’s dagger and her father’s sword had drunken greedily for Kalhmera’s new world and she had no great love for bloodshed any longer. More often than not they sat in their colorful sheathes rather than seeing any actual use. Even when she trained, she used basic issue swords.
The sundress she wore, swirling with green and blue dyes was only lightly smudged with dirt and she purposefully removed the gardening gloves that detained her sweat-soaked hands and relished the immediate cooling sensation of their release as a shadow crept over her kneeling form. Instinctively, she spun about in a leg sweep, her intended target clearly anticipating the move.
“I really should learn to alert you more quickly to my presence,” the deep voice chastised, full of ill-concealed mirth.
“You really should actually follow through on your discoveries,” Rienna tried to scold, but a smirk escaped. “Captain Seije, we weren’t expecting you until tonight.”
“The Queen has sent me on formal business,” Seije so quickly snapped into his business tone, it made Rienna frown.
“Formal business? What would she have of me?” Rienna asked him now. Arden and Lily seemed wary too. Those two had married last spring but they were no less a part of Rienna’s life. Well, maybe Arden was, but she didn’t relish sleeping with a happily married man either. He had been different after returning from Abundance, more subdues and he had been her lover for a while, but his ardor tapered off as he and Lily hit it off. She hadn’t been upset when he admitted he loved Lily. She was happy for him—she had someone in her life too, that meant more than anyone who came before. A different sort of love, but no less strong.
The Truth about Heroes: Complete Trilogy (Heroes Trilogy) Page 74
