Page 4 of A Kingdom so Crimson

I placed the cup back on the table, watching his back as he stalked away. Unlike the other large men in the tavern, he was tall and sculpted, with leathers strapped across his back and chest. His dark brown hair barely brushed his shoulders, and he moved with a purposeful stride. Noting he had a peculiar ruby pommel dagger at his side that glimmered in the light.

"Tyran," Calum swore under his breath.

I raised a hand, frustrated that Calum had brought me here. This was not my idea of fun. "Maybe that's our sign to head back," I stated, standing up.

"Come on, El, just one more—"

"Who do we have here?" interrupted a raspy voice. Calum's eyes widened as he quickly stood up beside me.

The voice belonged to a tall, fat man who looked like he had never bathed. Behind him stood three other men, their sun-blotched faces twisted into grimy, yellow smiles.

"No one," Calum replied quickly. "We were just leaving."

"Leaving, hm?" the man cooed, eyeing me with a disturbing delight. "PerhapsIcan leave too. What's your name, sweetheart?" he asked, tilting my chin to meet his gaze.

I stepped back, fire raging in my eyes. "Don't. Touch me." I seethed, assessing my options for escape.

"Touch you? No," he said, clicking his tongue. "Iwon't touch you," the man mused with a sickening grin. "But they will," he gestured to the men behind him.

I slammed my fist into his nose before realizing what I was doing. The sickening crunch of bone echoed in the tavern, and a sharp pain shot through my knuckles. The room fell silent as every pair of eyes snapped to us. The man I struck snarled, his face contorted in rage as blood poured from his nose, dripping onto the muddy floor. His eyes blazed with a venomous fury.

Before I could react, the three filthy men from behind him lunged at me, their grimy hands grabbing me all at once. Calum's shout pierced the air as he threw himself at them, fists flying and striking at their arms and backs in a desperate attempt to free me. But there were too many, and they dragged me outside into the darkening night.

I thrashed and kicked wildly, my foot connecting with one man's face, sending him sprawling to the ground. Another seized my injured arm, and pain shot through me as the wound reopened. My screams mixed with Calum's frantic yells as the tavern door slammed open behind us, revealing the silhouette of the man who had bumped into me earlier.

He was on the four grimy men in seconds, knocking them out with lethal intensity. His movements were swift and precise, and a blur of force left each man crumpled on the ground. He fought with a practiced efficiency, and each strike was calculated to incapacitate them.

Once the last man fell, he turned to me, his features unrecognizable in the darkness. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice steady despite the chaos that had just transpired, and reached his hand to me.

I nodded, still trying to catch my breath, and reached for his hand. He pulled me up with ease, his grip lingering a moment longer than necessary. "You've got a solid arm," he remarked, histhumb brushing over my bruised knuckles before he abruptly let go. I gave him a curt nod, unsure of what to say, and took a step back.

Heat flushed my cheeks as Calum rushed to my side, causing the man to step back slightly.

"El, I'm so sorry," Calum said, his voice filled with relief, though his expression quickly shifted to concern as he glanced at the man.

"You're bleeding," my rescuer noted, gesturing to my arm. I looked down and saw that my cream shirt's sleeve was soaked with blood. "Take care of yourself."

"We should go," Calum cut in, his voice tense as he glanced nervously around. He gently tugged me away, urging us to leave. The man turned and walked into the dark alleyway, vanishing into the shadows and leaving us to find our way back before Jesri found out.

We returned just as the servants were setting the dining room table.

"This never happened," Calum whispered urgently as we reached the hallway leading to our rooms. I nodded in agreement, eager to forget the entire ordeal, and quietly slipped into our separate rooms.

Inside, I found Aoife waiting for me. Her eyes widened in alarm as she noticed my bloodied arm and her nose wrinkled at the grimy, alcohol-laden scent clinging to me. Without a word, she swiftly helped me out of my top before efficiently patching up my arm again, for which I was silently grateful.

"Thank you," I murmured as she finished, but she was already at my armoire, pulling out my white Spring Harvest dress and laying it beside the icy blue gown she had brought in earlier.

I raised my brows and walked over, gently touching the white dress. "I thought I was supposed to wear this for the Spring Harvest tomorrow?"

Aoife shrugged, her expression softening. "Jesri wanted you in your usual Harvest dress for dinner tonight instead. But this one," she said, holding up the new beautiful icy blue gown. "You'll be wearing for the party tomorrow."

Itwasa gorgeous gown, but everything came with a price for Jesri.

"May I ask why Jesri insists I wear this one tonight and even went so far as tobuyme a new gown?" I asked, eyeing the blue dress with suspicion.

Aoife gave me a knowing look, fully aware that Jesri was trying to impress my so-called mentor with my appearance. The thought made bile rise in my throat, and I immediately wanted to refuse the blue gown. I'd rather be seen in a sack than cater to any man who lets his manhood dictate his actions.

I pursed my lips, fighting the urge to roll my eyes, disgusted by the memory of those grimy hands and leering eyes on me earlier in the tavern. But amid the repulsion, I couldn't help but feel a flicker of gratitude for whoever my rescuer had been.

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