Page 1 of A Kiss From a Dragon Lord

1

ANWYN

Ishould’ve left this small town weeks ago.

It’s always a risk staying too long in settlements like this one. It’s easier to go unnoticed in larger towns; people hustling from their homes to work don’t give someone like me a passing glance. In places like this, everyone knows each other. And a stranger taking up with the elderly woman in town, claiming to be her long-lost sister’s granddaughter, arouses suspicion.

Mrs. Hitherbend is pushing her eightieth name day, and her memory has faded with time. Our paths crossed when I arrived by rowboat two months back. The town I was in previously had noticed me skimming some money from the mayor I was working for. He was a callous old man with wandering eyes and hands. He’s lucky I just took his gold, not something he had a more permanent attachment to.

I had just enough coin to bribe a tradesman to take me as far as he could. That’s how I ended up here. Mrs. Hitherbend saw me as soon as I docked and said I looked like her sister she hadn’t seen in years. The lie I told her just spiraled from there until she gave me lodging in her house.

To be fair, I haven’t completely exploited the woman. I’ve kept up with her washing, cooking her meals, and helping her with the tasks she’s too frail to do. She’s even given me a few gold coins for my work. Honestly, this is the best job I’ve had in a while.

I learned at a young age that we only have ourselves in this world. My parents died when I was young, leaving me penniless and with few options. I could either work myself to death as a servant to a noble family or sell my body to one of the brothels.

Instead, I decided to travel. Taking odd jobs in each town and creating aliases wherever I went in case the ones I took from tried to come after me. My crimes are minuscule compared to the ones I watched the wealthy commit on a daily basis. Each one of them using their wealth to circumvent justice or exploit those beneath them for sport.

After living so many years on the run, I began to see people as opportunities.

Life with Mrs. Hitherbend is monotonous, but an opportunity to acclimate smoothly to this new town nonetheless. It only took a short while for the townsfolk to accept me. The original plan was to stay through the winter, but as I was absorbed by the routine tasks, I let my guard slip. I had gotten too comfortable, and someone had finally taken note of me.

Mr. Wicksome.

A foul man, who I am now pouring tea for as he sits in Mrs. Hitherbend’s kitchen. She absentmindedly prattles on about her chickens while his eyes rake over me. I was aware of his suspicions since I first arrived in this town. Two weeks ago, I overheard him talking to the blacksmith, saying there was something off about me and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

I should’ve left then, but the tradesman who brought me here before is returning tomorrow. I just have to make it through today, and tomorrow I will be on to my next destination. It’s exhausting going from one place to the next but better to leave than be stuck with no way out.

“Ethel?” I cringe at the use of my fake name. “Could you fetch Mr. Wicksome and I some of those biscuits the Lees brought over last week? We rarely get visitors, and a man of your importance, Mr. Wicksome, deserves the best.”

Forcing myself to smile, I nod and head into the kitchen.

Reaching up onto the top shelf, I pull down the jar of biscuits. The ceramic container sits heavy on the counter as I unscrew the top. My stomach sinks when I hear the wooden legs of a chair squeak against the stone floor.

There’s heat at my back. I don’t need to turn around to know who’s standing there.

“I know your secret,” Mr. Wicksome whispers near my ear, his hot breath making bile rise in my throat. “Anwyn.”

Fuck.

I straighten my spine and turn towards him, meeting his beady eyes. His dark brown hair is graying at the temples; his skin is wrinkled and pot-marked. His clothes are made of quality wool but overly done, making him look less like a nobleman and more like a gaudy bird.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He chuckles and shakes his head.

“You may be shocked to learn that I know a few people from that town you claim to be from. I gave them your name, and no one had heard of you.” He steps closer, and I back up a step until the counter’s edge presses into my back. “You haven’t been very good at hiding your trail.”

Mr. Wicksome curls a loose piece of my blonde hair around his finger.

“The butcher in that town recognized you from a coastal town down south. Only you went by Lila there. There is a shopkeeper down there who you worked for, but he knew you as Sophya in an eastern farming town. I was able to track down that farmer who remembers you staying with his family as a young girl named Anwyn.”

My mouth goes dry; my palms begin to sweat.

“And in each of those towns, under each of those names, you are wanted for something, isn’t that true?” My blood ices over.

“What do you want?” I spit out. The way his eyes linger on my chest tells me all I need to know. There are men like him everywhere. I’ve always been able to outsmart them before they got too far. My stomach curdles as I realize I may be out of moves. One word from him about where I’m located and all of my pasts may find me here.

“I am a powerful man, Anwyn. With the sway over this town to protect you if the people here found out what you truly are. They would not take too kindly to a thief and a liar deceiving them.”

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