Page 67 of A Broken Throne of Bronze

The man’s words get cut off by Viridian’s hand around his throat. Squeezing.

The drunk man’s eyes bulge. He lets me go and plucks at Viridian’s hold on him with both hands, to no avail. Face reddening, he pants and gasps for air.

“That’s enough!” The barkeep slams his fist onto the counter. “Cut it out or take it outside!”

Viridian gives the man’s neck one last squeeze before letting him go. Rage simmers in his expression, but he doesn’t say another word.

“Come on.” I tug at Viridian’s sleeve. Sneering, I say, “It’s not worth it.”

Reluctantly, he follows me back to our table. Still simmering, his eyes are locked on the drunk men at the bar when we sit.

“Here you are.” Our waitress arrives with a tray. She places steaming bowls of stew in front of us, then two ales.

As soon as the tankards are set on the table, the waitress leaves as quickly as she came, beckoned by another patron.

I pick up my spoon and dip it into my stew. It looks to be a simple beef broth with vegetables and some meat.

“Are you all right?” Viridian asks, voice laced with concern.

“I am.” I look up at him and return his coin purse. “Thanks to you.”

His eyes meet mine, and he holds my gaze. I don’t know how long we stare at each other, but I can’t seem to tear my focus away from him. It’s as if he’s the flame, and I am the moth drawn to it.

“It was worth it, you know.”

“What?”

“Back at the counter.” Viridian’s resolve is clear on his face. “You said it’s not worth it, but to me, defending you always will be.”

“Oh.” Warmth blossoms in my chest. I don’t know what to say.

“So,” he says, changing the subject. “What did the barkeep tell you?”

I brush my hair behind my ear, finally breaking from his stare. “Something about the last ball your fa—” I catch myself just in time to look around to make sure no one overhears us— “the High King hosted.”

Viridian cocks his head, raising a dark brow.

“Supposedly, it’s been over one hundred years since the last royal ball.”

He goes quiet. “Before my mother died.”

“Yes,” I say. “Something happened there. Something the High King doesn’t want anyone to know.” When he doesn’t say anything, I continue, furrowing my brow. “The royal historians, the nobles… They’re hiding something. I know it.”

I don’t know why, or how, but I’m sure of it.

“Right,” Viridian murmurs. “Then we look into the last ball hosted at High Keep.”

I nod. “That’s our only lead.”

“There must be some record of it at the castle,” he continues, picking up his spoon. “If there is, we’ll find it.”

I swallow, directing my attention to my food. Lifting the tankard to my lips, I take a swig of ale.

“Ahh,” I breathe. “That’s good.”

“Is it?” Viridian eyes his tankard with suspicion.

I gesture to his ale with my own in hand. “Try it and see for yourself.”

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