Page 46 of A Rising Hope

I held open the canvas flap, letting Finn and Zora enter into the dark tent first. A fucking mistake, I realized a little too late, as my powers surged with a screaming warning.

A stranger lounged in Gideon’s old chair with her legs up on the large glass table. She didn’t so much as flinch at our appearance. Though it was dark, her copper eyes marked mine, and we both recognized each other for what we were.

She paused picking at her nails with a curved dagger.

A thought and mental shields surged around Zora and Finn.

“Truth Teller,” I snarled, warning them. My blade silently drawn.

But Finn raised her hand up, stopping me.

The intruder’s lips stretched into a feline-like smile.

“Hello, Freckles,” she purred.

“Hello, Priya,” Finn replied, matching the stranger’s scheming smile.

34

FINNLEAH

“You write shitty notes.” Priya hissed in her typical fashion, with a bit of disdain in her tone. She chucked the paper on the table. I recognized it immediately—the little note I left for her before I abandoned her, never to return.

“You should really practice your reading if it took this long to read it.” I shot a snarky reply. Priya smirked and so did I, despite the narrowed glares we sent each other.

Her copper wicked eyes scrutinized me from head to toe, pausing on Gideon’s swords I carried. “So, what are you now? Some kind of peasant knight girl?” She stared at the rope tied at my waist, holding up the pants I stole from Godric.

“Oh, you didn’t hear? Assassins are so little in demand, I had to retrain as a peasant knight girl.” I mocked her in return, giving her a theatrical curtsy, simultaneously ignoring the stares from Zora and Orest as their eyes darted between Priya and myself.

“Demand forbadassassins was always terrible, Freckles. Perhaps you should try to be a better one next time.” Priya let out a dramatic exhale.

She stood up, dressed from head to toe in her dark brown leathers. I counted the daggers that she hid. Not a single one missing—a good sign. Poisons on her, tinting the precious jewelry a hue too dark.

“Have they not heard of fashion here, or are you all just poor?” She glared at Zora’s outfit, sauntering through the tent towards us.

My brows bunched up in amusement.

“Come on, Priya, assassin leathers are just so last season.” I tilted my chin up, grinning.

As much as I wished to deny it, I was delighted to see her. And considering I had never seen Priya smirk so much continuously, I would bet my riches on the fact that some twisted part of her was delighted to see me too.

She paused near Orest, and I was sure Zora was going to murder her right now.

“All that talk about me being a Truth Teller, and you just go get yourself one with a dick instead?” Priya clicked her tongue. She shook her head with disapproval and then darted her sharp eyes to me. “Not very womanly of you, Freckles,” she uttered, content to see a flash of surprise on my face at her revelation. “Ah, you didn’t know. Well, that’s a shame. You know what they say, one is on me, two is on you,” she chirped, enjoying the little theatrics.

She sent a cold, warning look to Orest. “Your childish shields are no match for me, boy.” She released a sigh, dismissing him. A chill ran down my spine and her powers, as if claws, reached for my mind.

She tried.

But no longer could.

I let my fire burn the little spider she cast in my direction.

Whether it hurt Priya or not, she didn’t show it, only stepping one step closer.

“I see you’ve been busy.” She threw an inquisitive look in my direction. The only sign of her realization of the shift of power, of my control.

My lip curled up, challenging her, warning her. I was far from the starved and hurt slave she found on the shore of the cold river. My powers itched underneath my skin, ready to lunge, but I held them back, letting only a spark of fire flicker in my eyes as I stared at the stranger who saved my life one summer afternoon.