Page 32 of Oath of Rebellion

"I'm sorry, Gastone. I didn't mean to offend," Eirwyn said softly, her forehead creased in a frown.

The king narrowed his eyes and his flaming hands burned brighter. "You think an apology is all it takes? You flaunt yourself around town with no regard to who you are or what you represent."

Bella waved her wrists in circles, sending magic to the stools and chairs around them.

They shifted, animating into a grotesque type of soldier. Two gathered around her and the rest formed a wall between the king and those still huddling under the tables.

"Without her calming influence, the people would've revolted years ago. She's not flaunting herself. She's setting worried minds at ease, something you should learn to do."

His eyes flashed. "How dare you speak to me like that."

Bella twisted her wrists, growing the stool soldiers and chairmen in size. She narrowed her eyes as his hands flared brighter.

"By Borga's blade, if you throw another fireball in this tavern, you will lose your crown so help me gods." She widened her feet, prepared to die defending her father's tavern, her home, her refuge.

"You've already destroyed the sigil of Jurus over the door frame. Do you really want to tempt the gods tonight?"

The king jerked slightly and glanced over. The top of the sigil could still be seen at the base of the stairs. He glanced back at Bella, looked at Eirwyn, then back again.

"The guards will escort you home, dear sister. Go now, before I change my mind."

Eirwyn had looked at Bella, but Bella didn't dare take her eyes off the king.

"Go on," Bella said softly. "We'll be alright."

She only hoped it was true.

Eirwyn whispered, "Honifery protect you."

Bella nodded, noting the way Gastone watched Eirwyn walk slowly across the floor like a hawk eying its prey. The gods would see justice served, but she just hoped it wasn't justice for her death or the destruction of her father's tavern.

She swallowed hard and lifted her voice. "The same goes for all of you. Get out."

The wall of chairs shifted, allowing the patrons to mass rush the door. Two of the guards left with Eirwyn, but two more remained, one on either side of the door.

The king released his magic, the white smoke drifting from his hands. Bella returned the chairs to their tables, but the barstools remained protectively behind her.

"You worship the old gods?" he asked.

She nodded slowly. "I find their ways make more sense than what the new religion spouts. The popular opinion isn't always the right one."

Gastone snorted, a white tendril of smoke curling from his nose as he smiled. "How clever. Jurus, Borga, and now you quote Honifery? How curious..." He paused, and she shifted on her feet as he staRed at her.

"Do you follow all of Borga's teachings?"

She held her hands together in front of her, portraying an air of confidence even though her stomach was in knots. "While Borga is popular today among those who wish for more freedoms, I follow Borga because he ensures the ale and wine are safe and brings more travelers. Without Borga, I'd have no business."

The king's eyes glittered, sending a spark of awareness through her. She was walking a fine line and couldn't let her guard down. He nodded regally, as if deciding something and pleased with his decision.

"You mentioned a private room? I'd like to see it now."

Bella tilted her head, not trusting him for a second, no matter how drawn to him she was. . "Certainly, your highness. Would you like a pint of ale as well?"

He nodded, and the light from the fireplace illuminated his high cheekbones, straight nose, and perfectly styled hair pulled back at the nape of his neck in elaborate braids.

"I would, thank you. I apologize for the mess. I will, of course, have it fixed tomorrow."

Bella nodded and waved to the narrow hallway that led to the room, her stomach twisting in knots as nerves assailed her.

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