Page 43 of An Honored Vow

I forced myself to release a breath. The glamour still dangled from my wrist. It was enough to keep Kairn—or Damien—from recognizing me. There was no reason to believe that the glamour would fail, that Damien had discovered a way to break through it or track me outside of sleep, but my hand rested over the release ribbon of my skirt anyway, ready to attack.

I had learned my lesson in underestimating Damien. One sign of recognition from Kairn, and I would stab my blade into his gut before he could get his sword from its sheath.

A long moment stretched between us, Kairn taking his time as his gaze trailed over me. I forced myself not to look at Riven standing at the table behind him. Though I saw his jaw flex as Kairn smacked his lips at me like a dog begging for a bowl of scrap meat. I smiled widely instead of gutting him. Kairn didn’t have an inkling as to who I was.

We still had the upper hand.

“How thoughtful of His Majesty to send such an esteemed member of the Arsenal to protect us,” I said with a curtsy and an obvious glance at the giant silver sword fastening Kairn’s black cloak. “I feel safer already.” I stepped forward and let my finger graze over the silver fastener—the same symbol that had hung from my neck for thirty years. “Though I hope His Majesty understands that even hissharpestblades can grow dull without sufficientrelief.” I imitated Dynara’s low rasp, letting my words hang in the air like a secret between me and my target.

Kairn blinked. I didn’t know if he was shocked by my forwardness or had noticed the jest in my tone.

It didn’t matter. His hesitation was enough.

I pressed my chest against him, bending at the knees to widen the distance in our heights. It was strange how the largest of Mortals seemed to prefer the smallest of women. Kairn wrapped his hand around my waist and pressed me even more tightly against him.

I had him.

“I would be most delighted if you would join me for a dance.” I looked up at the man who had claimed my post, who had captured Nikolai and did gods knew what with him, and smiled through heavy lashes.

Kairn took my arm with a ghastly grin. I held my breath so I didn’t have to smell the stale sweat and dirt that couldn’t be covered by the shiniest leather armor. The crowd split as Kairn walked us down the hall. No man wanted to anger the gigantic assassin with a reputation for blood-filled rages. And the courtesans seemed relieved that Kairn had not chosen them.

My stomach hardened. I would never have let his hand touch any of them.

The drapes of fabric that covered the walls ruffled as we walked past. I hid my gaze behind my fan and caught the silhouette of someone running behind the curtains with a heavy bag slung over their shoulders.

The servants were escaping right under Kairn’s nose.

Riven followed behind us, ready to strike. Dynara nodded at a black-haired woman standing at the door and she dropped the tray she was carrying.

Riven stuck the dart into Kairn’s neck. He smacked his skin, looking for the culprit just as a line of courtesans dressed in feathered costumes exploded out of the side room. Kilmor and Dynara were lost in the wave of chaos, but Riven and I held strong, waiting for the Blade to drop.

But he didn’t.

“Out of the way,” Kairn barked, pushing two girls to the ground. He rubbed his brow and leaned against the wall. I turned to Riven with an outstretched hand and he slipped me a second dart.

“Sire, are you well?” I asked, shoving my cleavage into his face as I stuck the dart into his arm.

Kairn swayed again, catching his weight on a table full of drinks. Glass shattered, covering the floor, but Kairn still didn’t fall. He had taken five times the dose to quell the average man and that still wasn’t enough.

I turned back to Riven, ready to catch another dart, but Riven shook his head. My heart stilled. There were none left.

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

DYNARA’S EYES WENT WIDEas Kairn crashed through the doors to the great hall and stumbled down the stairs. Kilmor trailed after him like a lost puppy with two glasses of wine.

“Why isn’t he unconscious?” Dynara asked as a troupe of dancers took the stage at the far end of the room. The lords hollered and clapped, throwing loose coin onto the stage.

“The sleeping draught didn’t work.” I grabbed a glass of water from a server walking by. “Two oversized doses. I can get him out.” I took a sip of my drink. “But it won’t be discreet.”

Dynara looked up the stairs where Riven was watching Kairn, who still hadn’t fallen. “If it hasn’t worked now, it isn’t working at all.” She fanned her neck. “Can you get him out before …” She glanced up at the giant amber stone set into the roof of the ballroom.

Dynara checked the bead on the back of her bracelet. It was glass but contained a liquid that would turn bright red when it was time to leave. All the courtesans wore one. “Keera, you don’t have much time,” she urged.

I swallowed. “I know.”

Kairn stood to his full height, seemingly recovered from his momentary dizzy spell. Lord Kilmor threw up his hands and handed the man a drink. They both downed their glasses in a single swallow. Kilmor’s cheeks reddened, and he grabbed the server’s thigh as he set the empty glass on her tray.

“How you’ve lasted this long without slapping him is a miracle,” I muttered under my breath. Dynara had wormed herself into the House of Harvest with ease. She had been thespecial guestof the new High Lord of the Harvest for weeks. She had more patience than I ever would.

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