Page 54 of Winter's Fate

“Fled, like the traitor she is,” the master said.

Thaddeus held Callum for another beat, and then, apparently satisfied that his brother no longer intended to murder General Moore, he let go and turned toward the master. “We have a tradition of housing every lost soul in the Vales who appeals to our door,” he said. “No matter who they are. Is it not so?”

The master flushed, eyes flashing, but Thaddeus held his ground, merely meeting the man’s gaze with calm patience. Maybe he wasn’t as naive as Callum assumed.

“It is so,” the master said grudgingly. “The Book requires it.”

Moore gestured to Callum, his face red. “But heattackedme.”

Whiny, for a general. What in all the worlds had Hawk beenthinking?

The master, who had regained his composure, drew up taller. “And that is a matter for your king to address. And to punish, as I’m sure he will. Our healers will see to your injuries.”He glared at Callum. “And you will be gone in the morning, or I’ll know the why of it.”

And with an imperious flap of his robes, he swept out of the room.

By the timeCallum made it out to the courtyard, Laena was gone. He shaded his eyes against the bands of red sunset, which were setting the pink-petaled trees alight with blazing glory. He walked behind the main building, in the direction his soldiers—Moore’s soldiers—had headed earlier, where he found Godfrey and Edmun leaning together against the trunk of a well-placed tree.

Edmun looked up at him with a frown. “Captain?”

Callum grimaced. “I believe you know it by now, if you did not know it before, but that title is no longer in use.” Edmun lifted an eyebrow, and Callum sighed. “And I apologize for the deception.”

“Young brute.” Edmun shook his head, though the news could have been no surprise to him.

It was the hurt on Godfrey’s face that made Callum want to cringe. The young man was frowning, as if he could not believe Callum would have lied. But he had. Completely and thoroughly. He’d lied, he’d led them into danger, and he’d failed them. Multiple times.

At the moment, all he cared about was finding Laena.

“I can’t deny it.” Callum glanced around the yard again, barely seeing the neat row of guest cabins lined up there. “Have you seen Princess Laena?”

Edmun shook his head, but Godfrey cleared his throat. “She went running out the main gates,” he said. “Into the city.”

Godfrey might be angry with Callum, but he adored Laena.They all did. Callum nodded his thanks, and Godfrey looked away, swallowing hard.

He’d make it up to the young soldier later, if he could. He’d make it up to all of them. For now, he had to find Laena.

He didn’t know where a disgraced princess would choose to go when distressed. But he knew well enough where a disgraced captain would go, and he’d spent enough time with Laena by now to learn that it might very well be the same place.

Inasvale held a surprising number of taverns for a city run by holy men. Not that holiness necessarily translated to sobriety—the poisonkeepers were known to age their own wine, after all—but the size of the population hardly seemed fit to support the number of drinking houses he now walked past.

He fully expected to find Laena in the first pub, where cheerful flute music emanated out into the streets, or perhaps the second, where a splash of stained glass decorated the front door. Almost ostentatious by Inasvale standards, that amount of decoration.

By the time he reached the eighth tavern, he was beginning to think he’d miscalculated. Perhaps disgraced princesses visited seamstresses or bookshops or a blacksmith’s forge. Though at this hour, those options were limited at best. The sunset had given way to a milky dusk, and stars were beginning to shine boldly through the heavens. Lantern-bearing travelers made their way through the streets, their straight-backed daytime postures relaxed into smiles and even laughter.

Callum found Laena in the ninth tavern, which bore a painted sign dubbing it the Playful Otter. Did everything in Inasvale have to be so damned… well, cute? For a place that protected the known world from the threat of evil banished mages, it was too charming for its own good. Could do with a few more mercenaries or a hardhearted pirate or two.

Perhaps the master provided enough unpleasantness for an entire city.

Laena sat at the end of the bar, with such an impressive distance between her and the next customer that he had to assume she’d violently rebuffed any attempts at conversation. He only hoped she’d done so without her ice magic. If the master heard of it, she’d be clapped in irons before the sun rose.

One elbow on the bar, a half-empty bottle of wine, and a glass at her side, she’d certainly wasted no time. Her complexion was no longer ghostly pale—in fact, she appeared rather flushed—and she’d found a ribbon somewhere to secure her hair at the nape of her neck.

“Mages,” she said when he eased onto the stool beside her. “I thought I’d be unfindable here. Un-find-able? Is that a word?”

“Is it not a word simply because you said it and I understood it?” he asked.

“That’s preposterous. You’ll understand what I mean if I say I’m plimping down to the store, but that doesn’t make it a word.”

“You’re making assumptions,” he said. “If you say you’re plimping down to the store, I have no idea if you’re skipping or walking or riding, or if the word simply means you’re going without specifying the manner in which you plan to achieve it.”

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