Page 12 of Fragile Oath

I did not wish, but this was the opening I needed.

“If you think that’s enough time.” I gestured for her to stand as I followed suit. “Shall we move this to our usual room?”

A small, knowing smile tilted the corner of her full lips as she took my hand in hers, leading me to the most secure room at the back of the brothel.

“We might be a while,” she called over her shoulder to my cousins.

Gwyn audibly groaned in response, only half for the sake of the onlookers.

A few snickers sounded throughout the room, along with some drunken cheering. It was all for the show. A performance. If there were any rebels or gossipmongers present, all they would see was the womanizing nephew of the king with his favorite whore, settling in for a night of fun. It would make sense, once word got out that I had been jilted.

Ignoring the pang of guilt that twisted my stomach, I told myself that reputation was what I wanted right now — needed, in fact.

As soon as the door closed behind us, the smile fell from Isobel’s lips. After securing the lock, she tucked one of her long, silk scarves under the gap in the door — an added measure to ensure our words wouldn’t carry.

“What is it?” I asked, noting the tight set of her shoulders and the concern filling her deep brown eyes.

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she blew out the candles in the room until we were shrouded in darkness. Her shadowy figure moved to the window, slowly pulling back the curtains before gingerly opening the glass panes and poking her head out to look around before closing them again.

The silver glow of the moonlight filtered in, illuminating her tense features.

“Isobel,” I said more firmly, my hand instinctively going to the hilt of my sword to fend off whatever threat she was so concerned about.

Still, she was silent. When she was satisfied with whatever she did or did not see outside, she turned back to face me.

“There are eyes everywhere,” she said in a low tone.

Isobel was always careful, but this was another level. Only one group inspired that kind of fear. The Viper’s rebels.

“The Uprising?” I asked quietly.

She gave the barest dip of her chin. “They know you’re looking for her.”

My insides went cold, and I pitched my voice even lower. “Have you seen her?”

“No,” she whispered, with a shake of her head. “But I know there was a body at the Red Lion today.”

Panic seized my lungs, my stomach dropping as the worst possible scenario came to mind. Was it–

“It was a man,” she clarified before I could voice the unspoken question aloud. Her expression softened, her large black eyes turning thoughtful as she studied me.

Gradually, my lungs filled with air once more.

“Lots of bodies turn up there,” I said, willing my heartbeat to calm.

“Yes,” she agreed. “But this one was killed by the Viper’s men.”

I didn’t ask how she knew. Half the court might have been pointedly ignoring the threat of the Uprising, but the rumors had spread fast amongst the people. Everyone knew what it meant when a body was mutilated with deep purple veins.

That poison was unique to the Viper.

It shouldn’t have been connected to Galina, not when bodies had been turning up all throughout the kingdom. But it felt too close, and I had no other possible leads to follow.

* * *

Pulledby some combination of instinct and desperation, I snuck out the back door of the brothel and made my way over to the Red Lion Inn.

The dusty street and chilly night air were honestly preferable to the seedy inn. As soon as I opened the door, the scent of Perpetual Stew filled the air. There was something extremely off-putting in whatever ingredients were added to the pot.

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