Page 38 of Brutal Birthright

“Don’t even start.” Ri groaned. “Too fucking many is the answer.” She had the aching bones to prove it. Fae didn’t heal as quickly as shifters, or vampires, or witches, and her body seemed to constantly be screaming at her lately.

“I thought we were going to the village?” Saskia called up ahead to the others.

“There’s a shortcut through the forest.” The familiar sight of Etienne’s fangs and smirk flashed back at them.

As they walked and talked, the girls fell into easy conversation about classes and their lives back in their home realms. Brynne had endless stories about nearly being roasted from head to toe by her older brother’s dragons. Meanwhile, Saskia came from a small village in the far reaches of the fae dominion. This was her first time away from her family. They traded stories of lovers and flings and left each other nearly in tears laughing at the particularly embarrassing sex stories they’d each experienced before choosing to come to Astracadia.

These two were feeling more and more like sisters to Ri every single day.

She desperately wanted Ruby to meet them but wondered what the likelihood might ever be now that her life revolved around being queen. There was so much she missed about the time when her sister was just there… and now… she wasn’t.

It didn’t take long before they were nestled in a cosy corner of the walled garden outside the tavern. A lazy summer evening glow of gold adding to the atmosphere. Ri had a tumbler of whiskey thrust into her hand by Brynne, who insisted that it was the best—shifter made and brought in from their forested realm. The scent of jasmine and low hum of cicadas surrounded them in the garden. She felt content enough to sit back and savour her glass while listening to her friends laugh and swap jokes.

This felt good.

The whiskey felt damn good.

She reluctantly admitted to herself that this was enjoyable.

While her goal for this year might be to reach the Astrals and prove she could be the best, having a night like this to unwind was exactly what her body and mind needed, too.

“Do you want another?” Atticus tapped one of his ringed fingers against the wood of the table, gesturing towards her nearly empty glass.

“I’ll go get this round.” She wanted to stretch her aching muscles, and the pleasant buzz of the whiskey had her feeling like she could happily float away on the breeze. Ri shimmied her way out of her seat and headed off through the large, double wooden doors.

The inside of the tavern was dim and smelled of oak and embers and something hoppy. Most patrons were outside enjoying the warmth of the balmy evening, but there was enough of a crowd gathered around low tables in here, too. As she slid up to the bar, she saw the fae owner wave from down the far end, indicating that he’d be with her in a moment. She nudged her tumbler across the golden-topped surface. The length of the bar curved around in a large horseshoe shape, and the room’s ornate interior was typical of everything in the fae dominion. Luxury and opulence at every turn.

“The girl who was hiding? Is that you, fighter girl?” A voice popped up at her elbow. Ri turned and was met with a face she didn’t recognise. Long brown hair in a plait over one shoulder. Light greyish blue eyes. Fine cheekbones and flawless porcelain skin.

“Do I—” Ri’s brows creased in confusion.

“Oh, right…” The witch let out a small laugh, then partially covered her features with both hands. “The solstice ball? Moss and feathers on my face?”

She snapped her fingers and pointed at the woman. “Library girl, right?”

“The one and the same.” Without the costume and the drunken haze of fae wine, she recognised the witch now.

“Are you here with friends from the academy?” She nodded her head towards the garden area.

“Sure am. You?” Ri motioned to the barman that she’d like a refill plus half a dozen others. She’d have to figure out how to get all the glasses back to the table without losing the contents of the drinks everywhere. If someone bumped into her and spilled them, she’d be liable to lose her temper and shove a knife up their nose.

“You’re in training for the Astrals, right? With Rowan of Nocturne?” The witch’s question snapped Ri’s attention at the mention of his name.

She nodded. A little unsure of where this was going. She didn’t fancy having to intervene with another potential Rowan admirer. The words of her sister about keeping an eye out ringing in her ears.

“Just be careful, the Nocturnes…” The witch reached out and wrapped a gentle hand over her forearm. But as she opened her mouth to say more, a voice called out Ri’s name from over by the doorway. Wait, what?

Turning to see who had tried to catch her attention, she felt the witch slip away.

“Hang on, what were you going to say?” She touched the witch’s elbow to make her pause. There was something of a warning in her bright eyes. Not the swooning over Rowan she had been steeling herself for, and that made her neck prickle.

“Oh, it’s nothing… go on and catch up with your friends. I’ll see you round at the academy.” Chewing the inside of her mouth slightly, she seemed to make a quick decision, then leant forward and whispered. “Just be careful, will you? It’s worth asking yourself, how much can anyone really trust the Nocturnes?”

Ri was left with confusion written all over her face, watching the witch slip off towards the crowded tables at the other end of the tavern before the ringed fingers of Atticus swooped in to grab the tray full of the glasses from under her nose.

“Couldn’t wait for you all night.” His kohl-rimmed eyes narrowed on her and he shook his head. “You might be able to kick my ass at training, but you suck at getting a round of drinks.”

She craned back around to try for one last look at where the witch had gone to, but gave up when Atticus prodded her with an elbow to keep moving towards the garden.

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