Page 4 of A Dagger in the Ivy

The workers’ eyes dart nervously between each other, a hint of apprehension flickering in their gazes. The scruffy-bearded one hesitates for a moment before nodding toward the back of the shop. “Roy’s in the back.”

I glance in the direction he indicates before I return my gaze to him. “Is he the only one who staked them?”

The one with the bloody apron plants his palms on the counter. “No, but he made the final call.” His voice is gruff, and his eyes are weighed down with dark bags.

“Take us to him, then.” I keep my chin high, my shoulders squared.

Their delay in cooperation causes Aila to reach for her sword, but the men react as soon as her fingers curl around the hilt.

The first one’s breath hitches. “Wait.”

The two workers regard each other before the bearded one gestures with his hand. “Follow me.”

With a nod, I gesture for Aila to tag along as we trail behind Beardy toward the rear of the shop, our footsteps clapping against the tiled floor.

“Roy,” Beardy calls out. “Royal Regiment is here to see you.”

Roy cuts a striking figure, his features weathered and worn from years of hard work. His greying hair clings to his scalp in unruly tufts. Guarded eyes hold a quiet intensity, betraying the weight of his responsibilities as the town’s butcher. His movements are slightlysluggish, as if burdened by his actions. Yet beneath the weariness, there lingers a sense of determination, an unwavering resolve to defend the choices he’s made.

“The regiment? I’ve committed no crime.” His shoulders are tense, drawn tight with the strain of his decision, and his jaw is set in a firm line, as if refusing to show any hint of vulnerability or regret.

“Are you a simple man, Roy?” I ask.

Wrinkles form between his brows. “What do you mean?”

“Only a simple man would not understand that murder is a crime.”

“Actually,” Aila puts in, “I’ve met many simple men, and eventheyacknowledge that murder is bad.”

His gaze meets ours with a mixture of defiance and resignation. There is a haunted look in his eyes, a shadow of doubt that flickers briefly before he squares his shoulders. “I murdered no one. Those three were still very much alive when I left them.”

Beardy interjects. “He did it for us. For the whole town.”

“Quiet, Finn!” Roy shoots him a warning look.

Finn ignores his glare. “Surrendering the lives of a mere three—including your own brother—to save the lives of many. That’s got to account for something.”

“Yourbrother, Roy.” I clench my fist, resisting the urge to whip out my dagger and make him know real fear. “Your flesh and blood.”

Roy speaks through clenched teeth. “I did what I had to do to protect this town. Those creatures were a threat. It would have been all of us fucking dead.”

“They were innocent people. No one deserves to die like that.”

“Innocent or not, they were what the Shadow Tsar was after. We’ve seen what the carnoraxis are capable of.”

“That doesn’t justify murder.”

When he glares at me, his eyes blacken. “Well,youwere meant to protect us, Commander. So where were you?”

I flinch. It’s a mistake, and I know it right away. I’ve unwittingly given Roy and his men the sense that I’m vulnerable. And they don’t hesitate to act on it. Anyone who has no qualms against sacrificing hisown brother will not hesitate to fight someone they barely know. Not to mention that he is also a fae. Though I don’t know which powers he has, mine have not fully manifested.

However, I am more than agile with a blade.

I palm my dagger when he takes a step toward me. Aila unsheathes her sword, eying the other men in the room.

Now it’s Roy’s turn to flinch.

I hold my weapon steady between us but do not advance. “You chose fear over compassion. You let panic dictate your actions, and innocent lives were lost because of it.”

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