Page 76 of Tales of a Deadly Devotion
‘Back to your positions,’ she threw the command over her shoulder. The cloaked figures had the barest hesitation before they slipped back onto the streets and into the bustle of people at the market stalls. A shifting of light above told me more had been perched on the roofs above. Neither Emrys nor Gideon seemed disturbed by the prospect. Anticipating it.
Of course, none of this was new to them. Elysior had been in conflict for longer than it had been at peace.
‘Shall we?’ The female turned to lead the way. It was perhaps unwise for her to give us her back, but the broadsword strappedthere seemed to be a taunt. That she’d enjoy bringing down anyone foolish enough to attack her.
She turned to one of the damp, brick walls that had penned us in. Only then did I notice the scratches on the stone. Faint rune marks in the shape of a narrow archway.
She tapped twice on the red brick, the wall peeling away with a clatter of stone and dust to reveal a short passage, resembling something a servant might use.
What greeted me was the smell of hay, dry wood and sweat.
‘Brilliant bloody idea as always, brother,’ Gideon griped, fixing the sleeves of his jacket, his eyes darted around, as if needing to know every exit. ‘The Reavers are clearlythrilledto see us.’
‘Quiet,’ was Emrys’s dark command as he – thankfully – went first, despite the fact I was certain every gentlemanly urge in him fought against it. With Gideon cursing at my back, I had no choice but to move forward, at least thankful to be out of the wet gloomy weather and to be able to take down my hood as I pushed the small packet of chocolates into my skirt pocket.
The stone passage led past tall archways and inside what appeared to have once been a theatre. I’d never been in one but I’d seen pictures. Viewing boxes, extravagantly decorated walls – only now the paint was chipped and peeling. A once-grand chandelier hung above reflecting the dim lamplight. Only the stage was now gone, and instead a large fighting pit took up the space. Surrounded by wooden benches, some men gathered, smoking pipes and handing around betting slips.
What would the Reavers be doing gathering by a fighting pit? The stories my mother told me were of the Reavers being freedom fighters who worked the streets and villages. How they kept fey and mortals safe though an undergroundmovement. So at odds with the version before me now as we moved further through archways until we passed through thick velvet curtains to an office at the back.
Greeted by bookcases and an assortment of shelves holding what appeared to be shipment scrolls. The smell of tobacco hit me first. Eyes moving to where smoke clouded. Coming from the rouge-painted lips of a beautiful woman sitting behind a large, ornate dark wood desk.
Her warm brown skin was only marred by creases around her golden eyes as if she smiled often. Dark hair was arranged perfectly on top of her head, her red nails tapped on the leather desktop where it was littered with papers and silver coin. The excessive frills of her expensive silk shirt making me certain Thean would be jealous of the monstrosity.
‘You are as clever as I remember, Blackthorn,’ came her hoarse voice as smoke seeped from her lips. She took another drag of her thin cigar, leaving a red stain at its base. ‘I knew you wouldn’t waste time on those old bastards still calling themselves lords.’
‘I told youonea day,’ Sigrid warned, as she pried the thin cigar from the woman’s delicate hand and placed it in the ashtray, which appeared to be made of a bejewelled human skull. Those gems throwing multi-coloured shapes across the floor between us in the lamplight.
‘With a Blackthorn on my doorstep it appears I’ll be dead long before the smoke takes me, my love.’ The woman behind the desk grinned, her attention moving to me. Or more my unease at her choice of human remains as decoration.
‘Don’t worry, my dear, he deserved it.’ She tapped her red nail against the skull’s socket.
Emrys’s face remained impassive, his hands sliding casually into his pockets at my side. ‘Lady Ramsey.’
‘We both know that title means little anymore, Emrys.’ She waved her ring-covered fingers dismissively. ‘However, it is good to see such a handsome face. Even in such dismal circumstances.’
‘Troublesome times don’t seem to have affected your business,’ Gideon offered dryly, eyes moving over the shelves filled with scrolls and small money pouches left unguarded on the sideboard. As if anyone would be foolish enough to rob this woman.
‘Not yet,’ the Lady countered, her attention remaining on me. Running from my damp skirts to cloak-covered shoulders. Where my hair had slipped free to curl around the sharp point of my ear.
‘Montagor was swifter than I anticipated,’ Sigrid said as she moved to stand behind the Lady, her face grim and tense as if anticipating an attack. ‘It appears madness is guiding him.’
‘To remove the Council suggests he’s set on following the Mage King’s legacy. Hunting a way to free the darkness from beneath,’ Gideon answered.
‘I was about to reach out to Lord Farrow for you, Emrys. Since the bastard has eyes all over the southern lands.’ The Lady nodded as she took a sip from a glass of port on her desk, leaning back in her extravagant chair. ‘However, he became …reluctantto correspond once he heard Gideon Swift was back in the fold.’
Her golden gaze seemed to gleam with amusement.
‘A piece of advice, dearest Gideon. Next time you decide to insert yourself into someone’smarriage, maybe make certain we don’t actually need their help afterwards?’
‘The bastard and his wife invitedme. It’s not my fault they both became quite obsessed,’ Gideon replied, making the lady’s grin widen. ‘Besides, if you’re lecturing anyone on dangerous entanglements,Priscilla, surely it’s my brother you should be speaking to.’
Gideon’s eyes drifted over me with mild annoyance to make his point clear. Sigrid gave a short, amused snort as Lady Ramsey’s prying eyes found mine once more.
‘I’mnot married,’ I snapped. Cheeks burning, unable to think of anything else to say to fill the awkward, tense air.
‘I doubt it would stop him if you were,’ Gideon added wryly, as Lady Ramsey’s laugh filled the small office. Only heightening my embarrassment. Emrys didn’t even blink to rebuke the remark.
‘Always the scoundrel, Master Swift,’ the Lady chuckled.
