Page 73 of Shadowlands Omega

“I…” I glance at the stairs, gnawing my lower and upper lip together. “Before he took those lashes for our family…I denied him.”

“Shit. Well that would do it.”

“Yeah. I just…” I wring my hands together, listening for feet on the stairs. “I thought he would know that I obviously would accept him now, but he isn’t acting like it…”

“Don’t say it, Kia. Don’t accept his hand. Are you crazy?”

“Areyoucrazy? I…thought you were starting to like him.”

“Like him? I’m not so easily swayed as the rest of the damn family. I haven’t forgotten what he did to us in that church and you’re my favorite sister…”

“I’m your twin, you have to say that…”

“…and you deserve better than that murdering jackass.” He glances to the left and to the right, worried about the ears that might overhear our exchange.

“He’sLordof the Shadowlands. I don’t think Mama would agree with you.”

“Mama’s got four daughters that she thinks are only going to be successful in life and give her grandchildren if they’re married off to wealthy men. She’s desperate.”

I frown again as the conversation veers quickly back into dark territory. “Yeah. Desperate.”

“Seriously. Don’t worry about that shit. Forget about all the shit with Trash City and our family and the dungeons and the church and the lashes and everything we’ve been through these past weeks. You don’t have to like him because of that.”

“I don’t have to hate him because of that, either.”

Cyprus looks unamused by and unimpressed with me. He opens his mouth, but I cut my fingers across my throat harshly at the sound of pounding feet on the stairwell. Mara reappears a moment later. “Our Lord is still busy with the innkeep, but he’s given me keys. Apparently, they only had two suitable rooms available, so we will be sharing.”

I glance down the hallway. While the lower floor boasted customers hanging from the rafters, up here, it seems mostly empty. “Really?”

“Yes. Follow me. I’ll show you to your and Lord Yaron’s room.”

“I think I should room with my sister,” Cyprus says and I’m surprised by the authoritative tone of his voice.

Mara must be, too, because she jerks up. It takes her a moment to respond. She glances between us. “I believe it would be our Lord’s preference to room with his Lady.”

“She is not his Lady. She is unmarried and Lord Yaron hasn’t won her yet in the Red Moon Festival.”

Mara gawks. She looks between me and my brother and then furrows her brow, pivoting towards me. “My Lady, I apologize. I did not mean to assume that you would be sleeping with Lord Yaron.” I blush at her wording, but only because she blushes, too. “If it is your desire to room, rather, with your brother, I would not deny you that right. I am more than capable of rooming with our Lord.” Her cheeks flare bright red at that and I might have laughed if I weren’t also so uncomfortable.

Cyprus is shooting me death glares and I feel totally exposed. “I, um…” I don’t feel worried about Mara and Yaron together in a room…but I do feel worried about what Yaron will think if I choose to room with my brother over him…and I feel worried not about what my brother will think if I choose to sleep in the same room as Yaron, but because he’s chosen to speak up for the first time today and I want to support him.

“I…yes. My brother is um…he’s correct. I suppose, it would be the proper thing to do to room with Cyprus rather than Ya…our Lord.”

We all stand there uncomfortably exchanging glances before Mara glances down at the two sets of keys in her hands and huffs, “Alright. Follow me.”

She walks to the end of the hall and follows the path the drunk couple made to the right. That hallway dead ends and Mara uses one of the keys to open the door. “You two will be staying here, then. This is the smaller of the two rooms. Lord Yaron and I,” she swallows, “will be staying three doors down, should you need us for anything.”

“I’m pretty hungry. Should we go down to the tavern now or wait for Lord Yaron to return?”

“No!” Mara practically leaps at me, as if trying to physically restrain me from fighting my way past her to the mayhem downstairs in order to get some stale bread and watered down soup. But I haven’t moved anywhere. Mara gives me a gentle squeeze and, as if seeing how violently she’s holding me, blushes harder and retreats. “Lord Yaron specifically did not want you to return to the tavern. He’ll have food and a bath sent up.”

“Oh. Okay,” I say, turning towards Cyprus, who holds the door open for me. We bid Mara a goodnight. The door clicks shut, the latch clearly sticky. The moment he gets it closed and locked, however, I square off to face him in a room so small it makes our family’s old quarters look like a castle. There’s also only one bed. For the ancestors’ sake.

“First, I’m not staying in this room. The whole reason we’re here is to talk to Madame Zenobia about her dealings with Trash City and see if any of the other customers know anything that could help us find them. Second, I’m not sharing a bed with you. You’ll have to sleep on the floor.”

“Wait, why should I sleep on the floor?”

“You sound like you’re twelve, don’t mope. I’m your big sister, so I get the bed.”

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