Page 128 of I Ran Away to Evil 2
The process to put on the outfit he’d picked out for me was somewhat arduous, but it certainly looked regal—and more importantly, it felt comfortable to wear. And his decision to finish the bottle of wine before changing into his own clothes might have prolonged the task.
“… and any Sumbrian who thinks that we would let that happen is a fool.” Linden was telling me about the ambassador of the elven nation who put forth a proposal to the house of servants, what Peldeep called their governing body, ordering a ten percent reduction in port taxes for five years as a part of the marriage agreement between Knight Commander Bastian and Countess Peregrine Fern. The couple were set to be wed this week at the end of the Apple Blossom Festival, and Sumbria was in full form with their usual diplomatic arrogance.
This was why the Dark Enchanted Forest did not host resident ambassadors like most of the other kingdoms … Her Eminence Feliwyn would have just eaten them if they proved too much of a bother, and Keith was too distracted withgolemancyto bother.
My friend was a lot like the dragon who raised him, even if he denied it.
“I’m still surprised they place so little weight into the prophecies,” I said, walking up a half flight of stairs.
Linden shook his head. “Fools, the lot of them. Though Benji, that’s my brother’s husband, was telling us Peregrine isn’t so bad. Her father has always been a reasonable elf to bargain with. He’s also an exceptional talent; nobody’s managed to assassinate anyone in his family yet, and not for lack of trying!” The half giant laughed heartily. “Count Valin just sends our assassins back with a polite note every time. He’s a good sort.”
I recalled the number of times we’d had to send assassins back to Peldeep or Servalt, and the troubles figuring out which one belonged to which organization. I said as much. “How can he tell if they’re yours? The assassins, I mean. They’re usually tight-lipped about where they come from.”
“Is that why King Keith is always sending us Servalt’s operatives?” Linden shook his head. “Did Derek not let him know that you can tell by their blades? Peldeep uses pettle steel pommels. It’s subtle, but it lets everyone know who’s whom without anyone having to break their professional confidentiality oath.”
“I’ll be honest with you, no. I don’t think anyone knew that. Now that we are on the topic, I have to ask; of the twenty-odd assassins we sent back from the Drendil Bridge Battle,” I asked, “how many were yours?”
“Eight.”
Linden stopped outside a set of sliding doors and squared his shoulders. I followed suit, settling comfortably into a confident and poised position.
My stomach flipped twice when he opened the thin paper door and let us into the dining hall.
First, because I was not ready to see an entire room of Bronwynn’s roguish relatives who might not rival me in level but were mostly giants and in all honesty intimidating by the sheer fact that they wereBronwynn’s relatives.
And second, becauseshesat in a red dress with black accents that complimented my own so perfectly. Bronwynn was smiling at something her mother said, the light catching the fire in her hair and the joy in her eyes.
There was that moment at the table, when her father had asked me if I loved her … the answer had come so readily.
Suddenly, standing in a room full of assassins didn’t seem that bad.
I was ready.
Until my prospective father-in-law reached out and slapped my back with enough force to topple a tree. My Constitution barely let me keep still, and I took twenty points of physical damage from the attack.
“Alright, all,” the half giant’s voice pitched over the room. “Let me introduce you to Commander General Rufus Triever of Nilheim.”
There was a dramatic pause as all eyes bore into me with a mix of curiosity, reservation, or indifference. Until Linden added, “He’s come to court my daughter, Bronwynn.”
That was when the room exploded into a ruckus.
CHAPTER 78
That’s The One Oscar Bit
Brownie
Brownie was born and raised with a large family, so she was used to the loud, boisterous cacophony of giants, trolls, foxfolk, and humans all talking over each other during dinner. Rufus, she knew, wasnot, and she felt that he handled the onslaught of questions admirably.
“What? No!” Cousin Terra, a human Courtier, gasped, hiding her smile behind a colorful fan.
Uncle Tobias, a storm giant and her sixth uncle, asked, “How long hasthisbeen going on?”
“That’s the one Oscar bit,” Jasmine, a human Arcane Assassin, explained to her fox husband, Cousin Luke. She wasn’t trying to be quiet about it, either.
“I’m surprised she landed someone so—” Cousin Terra’s husband, the puma beastman Mark, began to mutter. He didn’t finish his sentence before his human mother-in-law, Aunty Martha, jabbed him in the side.
Brownie’s father headed off most of the inquiries while escorting her beastman to the seat beside her. “He’s only just arrived, so don’t overcrowd the man,” Linden ordered. Instead of taking his usual seat beside her mother, he sat beside Rufus so the two of them were defended on both sides by her parents.
