Page 78 of A Rose Among Snakes

I started, not expecting to be addressed. “Yes, I’m sure.”

Corman’s eyes widened. “Didyoukill one?”

I was still processing what had happened. The rush had faded, and I was feeling numb. How was it possible I had killed three men? Not just one, butthree.I wasn’t sure whether to be proud or disgusted with myself, guilt and smugness tangled together. Then again, violence was apparently a trait passed down by my father.

I opened and shut my mouth, and flicked my eyes over to Velian in a silent plea. He answered for me, “All three.”

Varying degrees of shock crossed their faces, from Corman’s hanging jaw, Denzen’s wide eyes, and Paolef’s raised eyebrows.

The latter let out a low whistle and said, “You must have been pretty lucky, then.”

Velian walked over to the campfire and sat down, leaning against a smooth boulder. Paolef brought him a flask of water and knelt beside him trying to look at his wound.

We all followed behind and as I reached the fire, Denzen scratched his strawberry-blond beard and frowned. “Was it an accident?”

“Was what an accident?” Velian asked.

Denzen looked at me. “You killed all three. How did you manage that?”

I sniffed and jutted out my chin. “I knew what I was doing. My father taught me how to use a sword when I was younger.”

“Pfft. Who’s your father?

I opened my mouth to say, ‘Gorham Nowen,’ but I choked on the words. Gorham Nowen may have been everything to me, but to these men he was nobody. With supreme control, I kept my voice even as I provided them with the name they would have been most familiar with. “Gory Novenna.”

The only sound was the crackling fire.

“Honestly?” Corman asked. “TheGory Novenna?”

I nodded, and Velian suppressed a laugh.

“No wonder you took them all out. You’re practically royalty!” Denzen sketched an exaggerated bow, then offered me his arm to usher me toward the fire. He sat me down next to Velian and brought me a bowl of the stew that had been simmering above the flames.

“How else may we serve you, Princess?” My chest swelled with an odd sensation, part pride, part discomfort. It was strange being around people who revered my father just as I did—had.

Beside me, Velian rolled his eyes. “Enough. Leave her alone.”

Denzen ignored Velian and continued waiting for a response, kneeling at my feet with his arms outstretched. Velian shoved him with his foot and Denzen toppled over. I cracked a smile, despite the uneasy feelings bobbing inside me.

From Velian’s other side, Paolef piped in, “You still haven’t said what happened to you.”

Velian grimaced. “What’s his name—Bomesson or something-”

“Oh, so you do know his name,” I muttered.

Velian threw me an impish grin before continuing, “He attacked me first, and Mihrra spooked their horses. I didn’t see what happened with the one who followed you.” He looked to me.

“I charged at him, making his horse throw him over a cliff.” I kept my tone steady, telling myself to state the facts and not dwell on my emotions.

“Genius,” Denzen breathed, still sitting at my feet.

“Anyway,” Velian said with a sideways glance at Denzen, “When Mihrra came back, she stepped in as one of them almost stabbed me in the back. She handled him well, but I was distracted when he tackled her to the ground. Bomesson took advantage and lunged for me. I barely stepped back in time. It’s not very deep, but it stings.” He lifted his shirt to reveal a shallow slash just above his hip bone.

Paolef leaned in to examine it. “You’re right, it’s not deep. And it’s mostly stopped bleeding, but you should still stitch it up.”

“Do you have anything for that?”

Corman, who was tending to the horses said, “I have a sewing kit!”

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