Page 87 of Fate's Sweetest Curse
“Any idea where he is?” Phina asked, nodding in the direction of the forge.
“No,” I said. “Do you know where he’s staying? I have a question about Gildium and would rather not wait.”
Phina had arched a brow, but whether or not she believed my excuse for asking for the location of Noble’s lodgings, she hadn’t let on. All she’d said was that he was staying at the Royal Inn of Fenrir, just a few blocks from the Walk.
When I’d tried his door just after suppertime, he hadn’t been in.
Perhaps I should’ve waited for him to return, but after storming out of our training session and avoiding the lab, Noble apparently wasn’t too keen about providing me with answers—so here I was instead. Finding answers for myself.
I smiled against the rim of my mug, thinking about how much Noble must’ve hated the gimmicky name of his inn. The expression fell when I thought about him staying there for the past fewmonths. Was it all he could find in the city? Or had he not been expecting to stay in Fenrir as long as he had? Phina had made it sound like he was a permanent researcher on her project, but what had made him leave Richold’s tutelage to travel all the way here from Waldron? Certainly, he couldn’t have just been following me? Had there been a new development in the study? I’d been so offended to see him at the Collegium that I hadn’t really considered his timing—until now.
I was still circling the topic in my mind when the door of the Ire banged open, letting in a gust of cold air and three Mighty Knights. They must’ve just finished a shift, as they were still dressed in their golden armor and adorned with their glorious weapons. There was a woman—tall, athletic, terrifying, stunning—and two men who looked vaguely familiar.
No,veryfamiliar.
They were from the night in the alley with Phina and the mysterious hooded figure. I couldn’t recall if I’d learned the name of the one with the longbow, but the man with the twin shortswords who’d argued with Mariana was named Faren. As the trio strode up to the bar and ordered their drinks, I watched them over the rim of my dwindling mug of ale, tracking every animated gesture, every loose-limbed shrug and fulsome laugh.
They found a table not far from mine and seated themselves with a clamor of scraping chair legs and the noisy clacking of all that metal strapped to their bodies. My stomach clenched with anticipation as I casually shifted sideways in my corner, pretending to relax into my seat as I strained to listen to their conversation. I hadn’t been looking for Faren, but perhaps he could point me in the direction of the actual knight I sought.
Hopefully Faren was akeep your rivals closesort of fellow.
“Everyone is so quick to assume a conspiracy,” the woman was saying, her voice deep and confident. “Do they forget that burglaries happen? Not every criminal can be an assassin.”
“Penniless Collegium students hardly make good marks,” Faren said, leaning back in his chair. “What would a burglar expect to find? Valuable books?” His tone was all sarcasm.
The woman scoffed. “Oh, but a trained assassin targeting—and then failing—to murder a student makes more sense?”
“A research student,” Faren emphasized.
“What research could be so valuable?”
“Do you not read history?” the other knight—the quiet one with the longbow—asked.
“Too busy kicking your ass in the training ring, Lee,” the woman said.
Faren laughed into his ale.
I glanced around, wondering if anyone else was listening. The fact that three Mighty Knights were speculating about Viren’s incident so openly—and with such a lack of actualinformation—was rather disconcerting. I would’ve expected them to have uncovered more intelligence by now.
Viren was still convinced that the Valiant had targeted her and judging by the glimpse I’d gotten—wavy dark hair, short stature, very Mariana-like—I was not disinclined to believe her. Then again, it seemed unlikely that the Mighty would not know that another Order was targeting students; theyhadto be privy to the Valiant’s machinations, right?
Inclining my ear in their direction, I was somewhat dismayed to hear that they’d dropped the topic of Viren’s attack and were now arguing about the relative importance of knowing one’s history for tactical and political purposes. Lee had become rather vehement, while the woman had crossed her arms over her gold breastplate and was scowling at the ceiling. Faren was laughing good-naturedly, clearly enjoying the conflict.
A loud crash drew everyone’s attention—including mine. A fight was breaking out on the opposite side of the Ire, with lots of shouting and a broken chair. Knights rushed to intervene, including Lee and the woman, leaving Faren alone at their table. He glanced over his shoulder at the building melee, obviously wondering if he should get involved or stay put. Eventually, he must’ve thought better of it, because he leaned back in his seat and crossed one ankle over his opposite knee.
This was my chance.
I tossed back the rest of my ale for fortification, then stood and strode over to Faren’s table. He was a rather handsome man, with a delicatebone structure and light brown hair that shined golden in the light of the cast-iron chandelier overhead. He was fiddling with a small carved figurine. The wood was worn smooth from handling, and with his thumbs brushing over its surface—back and forth, back and forth—I couldn’t quite tell what it was. A fox, perhaps?
He didn’t look up until I was looming over him.
“Faren, right?” I rested my fists on my hips, hoping I looked confident.
Faren appeared almost amused to see me. “You’re Phina’s nosy apprentice,” he said smoothly. “I didn’t catch your name that night.”
“It’s Hattie.”
Faren gestured to the empty chair his fellow knight had occupied; across the pub, she was standing between two arguing brutes, a palm on each of their chests, keeping them apart.
