Page 76 of Slaying the Shadow Prince
‘Since I inspected the steel source with her. Since I asked her myself.’
‘And you trust her?’
‘Without question.’
At this, Wilder paused, glancing across at Drue.
Talemir followed his gaze. In Adrienne’s presence, Drue came more alive than ever. The women were trading stories of their journeys, laughter bubbling at their lips. The sly, knowing looks they exchanged told Talemir they were saving the best details until they were alone.
It felt surreal to have them all here, when only two nights earlier, Talemir had had Drue spread before him on the bar as he’d feasted upon her… And where they all sat in their chairs now, he’d spilt himself into her wicked mouth on the floor —
A gust of wind swept through the tavern.
And something wet landed in Talemir’s lap.
He sprung back to find a bloodied dead weasel draped across his thighs.
Disgusted, he looked up to see Terrence landing on the arm of Drue’s chair, puffing his feathered chest out proudly.
Drue herself was biting her fist to keep from laughing. ‘I think it’s a gift…’ she managed.
Talemir glanced from the mangled creature in his lap to the hawk, who was preening, looking incredibly pleased with himself.
‘Uh… Thanks…?’ he said, grimacing as he picked the dead animal up by the tail.
Terrence gave a contented squawk.
And the crew burst out laughing.
Except for Fendran, who watched Talemir thoughtfully. ‘Strange, that…’ he said. ‘That bird usually hates everyone.’
When the laughter had died down and Talemir had rid himself of the weasel, Wilder leant in, looking serious.
‘Something has changed between you two…’ He gave a subtle nod towards Drue. ‘You look to her constantly. Not just for her beauty, but… something else.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Wilder.’
‘I’m not blind, old master… I’ve never seen you like this with a woman before.’
Heat bloomed in Talemir’s chest, and he stared across at Drue once more, unable to deny it. ‘She’s no ordinary woman,’ he told his apprentice.
17
Drue
After hours of talking, Drue stretched as she stood, her muscles stiff both from the days of riding and from sitting still for too long. The night had grown late and soon everyone around her was settling their sleeping arrangements. Many from their forces had spread out across the village, taking shelter in the abandoned buildings throughout. Thankfully, Drue’s father and Coltan, who’d insisted on accompanying him, were also allocated elsewhere.
The tavern became Adrienne’s domain, with her inner circle of rangers and soldiers claiming the cushioned booths and unceremoniously unravelling their bedrolls on the floor. Wilder had pushed all their chairs back and reserved spots by the fire, but there was no sign of Talemir.
She was still in shock over Terrence’sgiftto the Warsword. Her father had been right. The hawk usually hated everyone. In fact, he hated men specifically, and she had seen his initial disdain for Talemir. And yet…
As Drue looked around, she felt a pang of regret for the evening of passion that had been stolen from her, her toes curling in her boots at the thought. She had just brought him out of whatever despair he’d clearly fallen into when the others had arrived. Though she’d been incredibly relieved to see Adrienne, and to find that Wilder and the other injured parties had recovered, she selfishly wished she’d had one more night alone with the Warsword.
‘Are you going to the well, Drue?’ Adrienne asked, interrupting Drue’s thoughts and waving her canteen hopefully.
Drue’s brow furrowed. ‘I wasn’t, but I can…’
‘Much obliged,’ Adrienne said, tossing her the vessel. ‘I’m parched.’
