Page 65 of Forged in Cursed Flames (Crown and Crest 2)

Obviously thinking I’m ridiculous, Henrik shakes his head. Amusement brightens his features, though he tries to conceal it in order to look stern. “Go.”

And I do. Very quickly.

“You appear to be alive,” Henrik teases when I hurry from the outhouse like a beetle fleeing in the night.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I hastily walk back to the tavern’s rear door. “I’ve seen things that will haunt me for the rest of my life.”

Laughing, the commander follows me into the building.

“You hush.” I shove him toward the table. “Go take care of ‘Kip.’ I’ll be there in a moment.”

I pause by the bar, waiting for the barman to look my way. When he does, I say, “Here’s your key.”

The elf’s hands are full as he fills a tray with drinks. He jerks his head toward the back wall. “Hang it on the hook for me?”

Nodding, I step behind the bar to put the key in its place…and then I freeze.

Ayan stares back at me, smirking in charcoal.

I blink several times at the wanted sketch, craning my neck forward to examine it closer, my eyes focusing on the ridiculous number of zeros in the bounty.

The elf is wanted for treason, attempted murder, trespassing, anarchy…and the list goes on.

“You know him?” Harlon asks from my side, scaring me so badly I almost smack him by accident. “Duke Augmirian is offering a hefty reward to the man—or woman—who brings him in.”

“I wish I did.” I offer the elf a smile. “Makes me want to become a bounty hunter.”

I turn away, heading back to our table and being very careful not to look at Ayan. In fact, maybe I’m a little too careful.

Harlon follows me and returns to his empty seat across the table, which unfortunately has a good view of our cloaked companion. I can feel the elf studying me, and I glance his way and offer him a friendly smile.

Act casual, Clover.

Don’t give yourself away.

“Where did you go?” Lawrence asks, taking my hand and brushing his lips affectionately over my knuckles. Below the table, I ram my knee into his.

He smiles to himself, but he doesn’t let go of my hand.

“To the outhouse,” I say. “A beetle attacked me, but I survived.”

Lawrence chuckles, though he doesn’t ask me to elaborate. To the crowd, he says, “The hour is late. Where in your village may we rent rooms for the night?”

“The apothecary lets out rooms above his shop,” Harlon says.

“We’d hoped to speak with him anyway,” I say as I rise once more, eager to get Ayan away from prying eyes. “Is he here? I’m ready to retire.”

I glance around the room, suspecting most everyone in the community is here.

Harlon nods toward a pair of older elves in the corner. They sit at a small table, engaged in a quiet conversation amongst the chaos of the room. “Man on the left.”

“Thank you.” With a yank, I pull Lawrence up. “Come on, Kip.”

The prince stands, ending up entirely too close. He smirks down at me with his warm brown eyes. “In a hurry to get me alone?”

I tilt my head to the side, wondering if a nice, firm smack to the back of his head would blow our cover.

As if reading my thoughts, Lawrence laughs and puts space between us. “Dunce, go secure a few rooms.”

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