CHAPTER 33: The Day Nikolai Met Rufus

  Abby tried not to fidget under Darcy’s warm smile.

  “Apologies, Abby," he murmured softly. "But you know this is just procedure."

  “Of course,” snapped Abby, face twisting into a disappointed frown. “I was the last to see him, it’s only proper I'm investigated. I suppose no exception could be made.”

  The eye-patched man stepped back at the hostile tone. “Yes, well," he cleared his throat, "We need to know everything that happened that night.”

  "Abby," called Cristin, a warning note in his tone. "Darcy is only doing his job."

  At the chastise, Abby stared down at her lap. She managed a curt nod.

  “The guards said you were delivering food under Nikolai’s command,” began Cristin, pushing himself off the wall. “We believe that's the key to how he got past the guards and escaped.”

  Abby flinched slightly. The image of two bodies being rushed to the infirmary flashed through her mind. Her nails dug into her skin. “How are they doing?”

  “We are hoping for the best.” Crossing his arms, Cristin leaned against the wall. “The assassin attacked to kill. If we hadn’t arrived when we did, they would have bled out. Even now, Johnathan has them under constant surveillance.”

  The two guards were from Feldgrau. They were young men who had been eager for the chance to travel. Darcy had watched them grow from scrawny teens. He had been the one to train the two and take them into the lord’s command. Now, they were dying. From a knife wound to the back.

  “It is my fault.” Darcy clenched his fist. “I was the one who advised the lord to send the assassin to the royal prisons. We should have gotten rid of him immediately.”

  “Darcy,” chided his partner. “Don’t do this to yourself. They are strong, they’ll make it.” Cristin squeezed the other man’s shoulders. “We will find the assassin.”

  Abby trembled at the thought. She couldn’t help but ask, “And what will you do when you catch him?”

  “Find out his accomplice and have them both hanged by the old laws of Feldgrau,” replied Darcy without a hint of hesitation, his single eye darkened with hate. The calm commander burned with the desire for revenge. “They forfeited their lives when they dared to touch our lord and attacked the lady.”

  “Won’t the people think our lord too harsh?” Abby licked at her chapped lips, fingers fidgeting nervously. “Perhaps they will accuse him of being merciless.”

  “Abby, they will think him weak if he does not,” retorted Cristin sharply, voice hard. “When our enemies realize we will allow assassins to live, what will they have to fear?”

  “It is harsh, Abby, but necessary,” Darcy adjusted his eyepatch. “The old laws exist for a reason. Only the lord may pardon him, and he certainly won’t be doing that.”

  Cristin suddenly straightened as a thought just occurred to him. “Abby, Nikolai never ordered the prisoner to have a last meal,” his eyes narrowed and his lips pressed into a thin line. “Who told you of this?”

  The older woman was silent. She looked down at her scratched palms and rough hands. Although most heavy labor was left to the other servants, her years of working in the castle had taken its toll. The callouses and short nails did not belong on a proper lady… although Abby supposed she hadn’t been one for a long time now. Despite her lectures to the Raven General, the other had a natural majestic air to her that the older woman could no longer muster. Maybe in another life, she mused, one where she hadn’t given it all up.

  “Abby? Are you alright?” asked Cristin. He stepped forward, hands worrying over her. “Cristin, go fetch her some water.”

  “No need.” The head servant straightened, a calm but stern expression settling on her face. “There was a servant, one of the new ones we brought in. They said it was the lord’s command. I had not seen much of them so I decided to deliver the meal myself.”

  Cristin and Darcy exchanged a glance.

  “Abby, would you be able to identify them?” asked Darcy.

  In her lap, Abby’s fist clenched. Cristin said it himself, there would be no mercy. Even if she begged, Abby knew Nikolai would not pardon her son. But could she really sentence an innocent soul to cover up for her own crimes?

  “Yes.”

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  Romelo was a master performer. He had scammed hundreds of people. Half of them were still unaware of it to this day.

  But under the Lord of Feldgrau’s glare, his confident mask slipped. He felt like a rat caught in a predator’s paws. It was as if those blue eyes, a shade deeper than his own, could pierce through his skin seeing all that laid underneath.

  It was unnerving to say the least.

  “Romelo,” called the ice prince at last, voice soft as always.

  The thief stiffened, “Yes, my lord?”

  Folding his hands on his desk, the lord shot him a curious look. He tilted his head with genuine interest. “Do you wish to go back to jail?”

  “Of course not!” In a shock, Romelo fell to his knees. He shook his head rapidly, pushing down the nausea. Sweat ran down his forehead.

  “My lord, I-“ Romelo cut himself off. Life’s cruelty had taught him pride meant little. In fact, it was groveling which came easy. “Please, my lord, have mercy.” He cursed his own stupidity. “I should have reported this to you at once. It was foolish of me to wait.”

  The lord gave a faint hum but his gaze was set back to the ever-present documents on his desk.

  Romelo gulped. He could practically feel the steel bars closing in around him.

  “But my lord, I did report this to you. I didn’t really try to hide it,” started the lookalike, testing the dangerous waters. When the lord didn’t erupt into anger, he cautiously tread forward. “Surely this counts for something. A lesser man may have kept silent until it was too late. Or never even said anything,” he trailed off.

  Romelo swallowed down his nerves. “Some might even say this behavior,” he tried for a relatable chuckle, “it even merits reward.”

  “A reward?” There was a pause. This time it was the lord’s turn to chuckle dryly. “You seem to have misunderstood something, old friend.”

  The their stiffened at the title. A chill ran down his spine and he shifted uneasily.

  “Romelo, by the old laws you would be hanged off the walls of Feldgrau.” The lord sighed like it was another bureaucratic matter of little importance. His tone was as blank as his face, not sparing a hint of the lord’s true emotions. “You could still be hanged. In fact, a good many of those you swindled have asked for it. The only reason you still walk this land is because I have use of you.”

  As the poor man trembled, the ice prince made a beckoning motion. The guard standing at the door strode forward. The man eagerly unsheathed his sword, letting the heavy metal scrape against the carpet like an executioner’s blade.

  “Easy there!” Romelo’s voice was pitched. Scrambling forward, he perched himself on the lord’s desk, desperation surging through him. “I meant no harm, my lord! Please, have mercy. I am grateful for all you have given me!”

  “Good.” The Ice Prince picked up his quill. “Do not become a liability, Romelo.”

  The guard sheathed their blade. He leaned forward and yanked the thief away from the desk.

  Romelo tripped and landed on the floor. “My lord, I am your humble servant.” He didn’t even have the heart to level a glare at the guard, solely focused on trying to read the lord’s mood. “Anything you ask I will make sure to fulfill. Please give me another chance!”

  “Keep your head low and do not leave the residence. The Lucky Charm is no longer safe.” Seeing that the man was about to protest, the lord added, “The courtesan likely told the queen you are a double. If she has, Her Majesty will have your head for impersonating royalty.”

  And with that, the protests died on Romelo’s tongue. He wanted to slap his past self. Telling Elody his true identity was a slip-up, a mistake he never would have made in the past. Living as the lord’s double had been luxurious. He had enough food to eat and all the paints he desired. Such a lifestyle had dulled his edge.

  However, if the ice prince no longer needed him to roam the streets in his place, Romelo’s only use was as bait for assassins. “My lord, I have many other skills. I can also-“

  He was rudely cut off as the lord’s patience finally snapped. “You have done more than enough.” There was a finality in his tone. The blue eyes fixed on him grew even colder. “Do not make me regret this, or I will hang you myself.”

  The master thief gritted his teeth. Hiding his trembling fists behind his back, the man bowed low. “Yes, my lord.”

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  “Well, this is curious,” Faye set down her cup of tea. The acidic water was Aimee’s concoction. Despite the acrid taste, the Raven General hadn’t the heart to toss the girl’s hard work away. Settling into her seat, she shot her guest a curious glance. “Usually, it’s the other way around.”

  “Ah, well,” fidgeting in his seat, Rufus ‘ cup trembled in his hold. He cleared his throat. “Yes, I guess it usually is.”

  Leaning her chin against her hand, Faye gazed at the boy. “You’re not here to congratulate me on my recovery,” she guessed.

  Surprisingly enough, despite her disappearance form the queen’s court sessions, no one seemed to suspect anything was amiss. The Lord of Feldgrau had hidden everything perfectly.

  “Recovery?” The boy was startled at the mere suggestion.

  “Recovery from what?” he asked, setting down his cup of tea. It was his turn to study the Raven General. She looked… as she always did. Perhaps her face was a shade paler than the last he had seen her. But… As he looked her up and down, Rufus couldn’t find signs of anything amiss. “I was not aware something happened to you.”

  “That’s because you were only listening for news of something happening to Nikolai,” replied the woman bluntly. She crossed her arms, shooting the boy an unimpressed look. “Are you here to warn me off? Afraid I’ll kill the Ice Prince and pin the blame on you?”

  Having grown accustomed to her straightforward ways, Rufus only scratched the back of his neck. “Well, aside from a slightly burnt residence, the lord seems in good health.” Focus, he chided himself. “Actually,” Rufus exhaled shakily. “Raven General, I have come this time with a request of my own.”

  “Only a request?” Faye leaned back. She seemed to muse over the idea for a moment. “And if I deny it?”

  Rufus stared down at his lap. “I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

  “That depends entirely on your request.” Amber eyes regarded him steadily. “What is it you want, Rufus?”

  Steeling himself, the young lord glanced around. He couldn’t help but shiver. The great hall of the Prince’s Residence was quite unnerving. A few faded paintings hung on the wall. Although they were cared for, It was clear the space was not personalized.

  The Prince’s Residence once belonged to the great Feldgrau family… before they all mysteriously died off. The loss seemed to cling to the gloominess of the dark walls.

  According to Eburean custom, the residence was a lady’s place of power. Their great hall was the couple’s court for entertaining friends and enemies alike. But this great hall felt as if it were borrowed.

  For a moment, Rufus wondered what the great hall of the ancient Feldgrau castle was like. It was an ancient structure, centuries older than its royal counterpart here. Was it large and dominating, mocking outsiders that dared to sit in it? Or were the walls narrow and sharp, suffocating those with poisoned thoughts?

  Rufus felt a sudden sense of relief. At least here, even the Raven General seemed as much a stranger within these walls as he did, it gave him the confidence for his next words.

  “I wish to request,” Rufus coughed, feeling slightly nauseous from the nerves. The young lord cleared his throat. It was now or never. And like that, the words tumbled out of him. “I need a private audience with the Lord of Feldgrau. There are important matters I must discuss with him.”

  To the boy’s surprise, the Raven General did not press the issue.

  “That sounds simple enough,” she agreed easily, waving for him to stand. “I shall pass along your request. A messenger will reach out with the date and time. When the day comes, we shall go together.” Reaching down to grasp her cup, she downed her tea in one go. Her face pinched with distaste as she croaked out. “Well, Rufus, if that is all...”

  “Actually, I need to talk to him alone,” Rufus winced at the way the Raven General stiffened. Disregarding his survival instincts, he pressed on, “And preferably as soon as possible. Such as, most definitely, today.” Face flushed with terror and embarrassment, he squeaked out as politely as he could. “Thank you?”

  Scarred fingers tightened over the painted china.

  Faye set down her cup with deliberate thud, shaking the table.

  Rufus held his breath, willing himself not to spring out of his seat. And run.

  "A meeting alone?" The woman rose to her feet and fixed the young man with a hard stare. “Now, why would you want that?”

  Rufus gulped audibly. “Uh, well, you see, that’s the thing. I can’t,” he let out a pitiful laugh that sounded closer to a sob. “I can’t tell you that.”

  Amber eyes flashed. "Is that so?"

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  Rufus stood awkwardly.

  He shuffled awkwardly in the empty space. Here he was, standing alone in another lord’s private study. It was certainly improper, and definitely impolite. Even his patient lady mother would have him flogged if she ever found out.

  Crossing his arms, Rufus rocked back on his heels. Should he sit? Should he stand? The boy’s gaze darted around the study, debating. Everything was neat and organized, except for the desk with its precariously leaning stacks of parchments. It was messier than his father’s desk!

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  “Gods, I hope this works,” he muttered under his breath.

  With a frustrated huff, Rufus plopped down into the chair. “I need to put on a strong font.” The young lord crossed his arms., straightening his posture.“Yeah!” He puffed up his chest, nodding firmly. The Lord of Feldgrau might be intimidating but Rufus was the son of General Langard! Technically, they were of similar standing.

  Rufus was clinging onto that technicality like a lifeline.

  “You’re in my seat.”

  Rufus launched to his feet immediately. Face burning, he whipped around, arms automatically raising in surrender. “Apologies! I meant no disrespect I-“ The words died in his throat.

  Rufus quivered under the eye-patched man’s glare… he swallowed nervously, eyes trained on the sharp sword aimed in his direction. “My lord, please forgive me.” His voice wobbled as he took a wide step away from the chair. “Please don’t kill me.”

  The man did not lower his blade.

  “Who are you?” came the low growl.

  Rufus’ eyes widened comically. “Uh, Lord of Feldgrau, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he tried for a smile but it fell flat. “I apologize for any indiscretion, my lord, but I am-”

  “Boy, you are addressing the wrong master,” came the sharp reprimand.

  The eye-patched man scoffed. The sword lowered slightly. He sidestepped to reveal another figure standing behind him. The eye-patched man tilted his head at the boy, gesturing at the shaking form with his sword. “I do not believe an assassin would be so… dim, my lord.”

  The room grew colder.

  Blue eyes locked onto Rufus, assessing him with a quiet intensity. “At ease, Darcy.”

  The young lord froze at the cold stare. He barely registered the eye-patched man sheathing his sword.

  It had been many years since Rufus had seen the Ice Prince in passing. Somehow, the Lord of Feldgrau had only grown colder and more aloof. Despite his handsome features, he was the kind of man who could make you feel like a speck of dust.

  The Lord of Feldgrau tilted his head, scanning the room.

  “You’re not my wife,” he observed flatly.

  Rufus hesitated for a moment. “I’m afraid not.”

  The lord’s gaze swept through the study as if he expected someone to materialize out of the shadows. He even glanced up at the ceiling.

  Rufus forced an awkward smile.

  Trying to fill the void of silence, he blurted out, “The Raven General told me to wait here.” He fiddled with his thumbs. “She said that she arranged a meeting with you?”

  From the lord’s snort, Rufus could only guess the Raven General had not specified who the meeting was with.

  “Where is the lady now?” Darcy’s tone remained wary, his hand rested lightly on the hilt of his sword.

  “She wanted to go to the festival,” Rufus eyed the sword before meeting the lord’s stare. “If you need to make certain of my identity we can go find her-“

  “That won’t be necessary,” the Ice Prince cut in. He stalked towards his desk. “I know who you are, Rufus Langard.”

  “After using my name for so many years, I’m not surprised,” spat the boy. The words tumbled out before he could stop himself. Rufus slapped a hand over his mouth, immediately regretting ever opening his mouth.

  The lord settled into his seat, picking through the parchments without pause. “So you’re the one who told Faye.” Though his expression remained unreadable, there was a sharpness to his words. “I was led to believe you were quite useless, my lord. It seems they were wrong about you.”

  Squaring his shoulders, the boy met the lord’s challenge. “I am resourceful when I need to be.”

  Their silent staring match lasted a moment before Rufus looked away.

  “In truth,” the boy admitted quietly. “I came today because I need your help, Lord of Feldgrau.”

  The Ice Prince folded his hands. “And Faye knows of this?”

  “She led me to your study, didn’t she?” retorted Rufus. He couldn’t shake the odd feeling that their conversation kept returning to the general. Rufus pressed forward. “Please, it is an urgent matter that endangers you as well.”

  “Endanger me? Lord Langard, I am a forgotten prince, practically exiled to the borderlands,” The lord managed to pull off boredom and confusion in the same blank expression. “Who could possibly want to do me harm?”

  But Rufus wasn’t fooled. He knew better than to fall for it. “The queen, my lord.”

  Behind the lord, Darcy shifted. His hand fell to his sword, but neither man seemed truly surprised.

  “Well, that is unfortunate,” said the ice prince. Finally, he looked up from the pages. “What is your request?”

  “A promise of protection.” Wringing his hands together Rufus mumbled, “And before I tell you the information, you must swear that this person will not come to harm.”

  “I cannot do that,” came the blunt reply.

  Rufus’ stomach twisted. “Then I will not tell you.”

  There was but a moment’s pause before the Ice Prince finally shrugged.

  Lowering his attention back to his papers, the lord faintly gestured to his door. “Darcy will see you out.”

  “You-“ Gaping, Rufus stared incredulously at the man. Where was the crafty intelligence the Raven General had boasted about? The boy shot to his feet. “But you might be in danger! What I say might save you and your household, my lord.”

  Rufus bristled at the lack of response. Was this such a hard request? “I’m not being unreasonable,” Rufus stomped towards the desk. “All I need is a promise you won’t harm them!”

  The lord leaned forward. “And if I decide this person should die?”

  The boy recoiled back like he had been physically struck.

  A silence stretched between them.

  “Die?” Rufus paled. His heart thundered at the thought. “But they are innocent! Truly, this I promise you!”

  The ice prince did not waver.

  Rufus slammed his hands against the table. “It’s not like I’m telling you to protect a murderer! Lady El is-“ the boy stilled as he caught himself. “I mean, this person-“

  Finally, there was a reaction.

  “You refer to the courtesan Elody,” he drawled, as the lord’s gaze turned to ice.

  Rufus’ breath hitched. This entire time… the lord had been baiting him, he realized.

  “So you know of this matter as well,” the Ice Prince’s voice was dark, void of any cheer. “I must say, I am quite impressed, Lord Langard.”

  The eye-patched man suddenly spoke, expression much easier to read in comparison to his master. Disgust twisted his face. “She is a liability now, my lord.” Darcy strode forward to put himself between Rufus and the Ice Prince. “Not only has she given us up to the queen, but she is telling this to her other patrons as well.”

  The ice prince nodded slowly. “A serious breach of the Lucky Charm’s contracts.” He turned to Darcy. “Go inform Matron Athena of this. She will handle the rest.”

  Darcy bowed, “Yes, my lord.”

  Rufus gasped for breath, struggling to stay afloat amidst the sudden changes. Despair washed over him. He had just doomed Elody. “No, no, no! My lord,” his lungs squeezed, and he wheezed, “Please, she has only told me of this! No one else!”

  “You expect us to believe that?” scoffed Darcy.

  Rufus glared at the eye-patched man, a retort on the tip of his tongue.

  “You are already one too many,” said the lord, voice calmly cutting through the tension. “It is only your father’s honor and friendship that stays my hand. Otherwise, you would find yourself in the same position as your paramour.”

  The young lord fought to regain his composure. He looked away, blinking harshly. Rufus swallowed hard. His best friend was going to die because of him. And there was no one to turn to, not without putting even more targets on her back.

  “You can’t do this.” Rufus choked out. He rubbed roughly at his face, unashamed of the tears. He never had much dignity in the first place. “Please, my lord. Find it in your heart to have mercy.” He frowned, “If you have one that is.”

  The Lord of Feldgrau stared blankly at him. “Heed my words, Rufus Langard. You may believe yourself useless,” he said. His words were sharp, devoid of the coddling tone most lords at the court took with Rufus. “But your words hold power.”

  The boys’ eyes widened.

  “If only you had remained silent, your courtesan would have remained unharmed.”

  And with those words, the world seemed to crack around Rufus. His heart thundered, already dreading the Ice Prince’s next words.

  “If you tell the queen or any of the royal guards what has transpired today, you not only doom yourself but your family will also be led to ruin,” warned the Ice Prince. “And it will not save your courtesan.”

  Rufus’ eyes hardened. “Are you threatening me?”

  “Yes,” the lord replied firmly. “Your courtesan’s life is already forfeited. Do not bring everyone else down with you.”

  The boy hung his head. Gritting his teeth, Rufus could only hold back his anger and shame. The boiling emotions bubbled beneath the surface. “You’ve fooled everyone, Ice Prince,” he seethed. “They think you’re even more of a fool than I. But the truth is that you’re a cruel monster.”

  “There is a danger living in your house with the means and desire to kill you,” Rufus’ eyes blazed as he spit, “I hope it succeeds.”

  “Darcy,” the lord turned to his commander. “Escort Lord Langard out.”

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  Faye bit into the butter bread Aimee had brought for her. She stuck out her tongue. Scrunching her nose, she stared in affront at the pastry.

  The obscene amount of sugar doused her tongue with unpleasantness. She wrapped it back in the fabric. Her stomach grumbled in protest.

  Faye kicked at the dirt. It was foolish to come out without a meal but she had been too excited. Her shoulders drooped.

  There were only a few days left to the Lantern Festival and Faye refused to miss it.

  She hummed a marching anthem under her breath as she eyed the different stalls and merchants. This was a different part of the city. One she had never frequented before. Her eyes scanned the colorful decorations and flowing silks hanging off the terraces.

  “The Street of Joy,” she murmured.

  Bian had mentioned a few of his clan mates traded information here. The Street of Joy’s information network was one of the strongest in Eburean. But after an unnamed bad experience, Bian refused to take a step there again. He always sent others on his behalf despite how it went against his cautious nature.

  Faye’s curiosity had gotten the better of her. What could possibly have left the little bird so flustered and nervous? She also had some information gathering to do.

  The number of couples seemed to thin as she walked down the street. A heavy mix of floral scents thickened the air. The colored lanterns grew bolder, the saturated colors blended with the low light. Silks and beautiful men and women filled the streets. Their painted smiles and alluring calls only added to the mysterious atmosphere.

  Faye’s ears perked up. To her right came the sound of protests and grunting.

  A woman cried out, “If you have any decency left, leave me alone!”

  Faye pulled her hood tighter. She eyed the display of ribbons across the street. These were made to accompany the ones Ebureans received from their parents at birth. If she had been alive, Faye wondered what color her mother would have picked.

  “Leave me alone or I shall cry out loud!” the woman’s voice rang out again. “The royal guards will come running.”

  The only guards in the Street of Joy were hired men who hired hands, loyal only to their establishments.

  Faye reached into her pockets. Did she bring enough coins? The light blue ribbon was quite fetching. The color reminded her of the open skies over the grasslands. And a certain lord’s glinting eyes.

  “Help!” screamed the woman, voice shrill with desperation. “Please someone help!”

  Faye grimaced. Not enough coin. What a pity.

  “Somebody, please!” The woman’s voice grew frantic.

  The Raven General’s shoulders drooped.

  In the alleyway, those who witnessed the scene hurried to pass and cross to the other side. Three burly men crowded around a woman. The passerby shot the frightened maiden a pitying look but made no move to answer her cries for help.

  One of the men stepped forward, looming over the woman. He reached a hand out to touch her face but was slapped away. The woman hissed, “Stay away from me!”

  He scowled, “I thought women from the Lucky Charm were nice! You’re not nice at all.”

  “I am not from the Lucky Charm!” she protested, backing herself into the wall. “You’ll regret laying a hand on me! Leave before it is too late!”

  “That’s what they all say!” The men laughed cruelly. “It’s never true.”

  A new voice suddenly chimed in. “That I highly doubt.”

  The men stared at one another in confusion. The voice hadn’t come from any of them.

  The woman peered over their shoulders to stare at the mysterious party. The cloaked figure’s face was hidden by their hood. But there was a distinct swagger to their walk. “Step away,” warned the stranger. “Last chance.”

  Before anyone could react, a rough hand gripped the woman’s chin. She cried out.

  “We’ll deal with you after,” the leader spat. His foul breath was hot against her skin. He let go of her, tossing her helpless form to the ground.

  The woman glared at their backs.

  The three turned to face the interloper. They towered over the smaller figure, smirks crackling with anticipation. Cracking their fists, they grinned at one another.

  “I was itching for a fight.” the stranger said. They opened their arms wide as if asking for a hug. “What are we waiting for?”

  With a shout, they all lunged at the same time.

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  Nikolai nearly slipped on the slick tiles of the roof. Catching himself at the last moment, he cursed his attendant. “Take the roofs, it’s easier,” he mimicked Cristin’s snide tone. For a man usually so terrified for his lord’s safety, the idea that Nikolai could faceplant into a stranger’s terrace seemed to escape Cristin’s imagination entirely.

  Treading carefully, the lord could only thank the fact he was almost at the Lucky Charm.

  Cristin was right about one thing. People rarely looked up. With the courtesan’s betrayal, it was necessary to be overly cautious. No doubt, Rewanna had stationed men to keep watch over the Lucky Charm.

  Unconsciously, Nikolai brushed a hand over his mask. He tightened the strings, just in case.

  “By the gods!”

  Nikolai stiffened. That voice was familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. Creeping to the edge of the roof, he peered down into the alley below.

  Three men, face bloodied and bruised were fighting against a smaller figure. The small fighter moved gracefully but their hits were full of vigor and force. Each strike landed with a surprising amount of force.

  “We’ll show you, little shit!” screamed one of the larger men. His teeth were dyed crimson, and his left wrist hung at an awkward angle, clearly dislocated.

  The figure merely laughed at the threat.

  “I’m looking forward to it,” they called, easily dodging out of the way of a heavy kick. In a split second, they landed one of their own against their opponent who flew back from the strength of it. “So far, this fight has been boring.”

  The hairs on the back of Nikolai’s neck rose. That was Faye’s voice! He was sure of it.

  In the corner, a woman cheered, her voice rising above the noise.

  For a split second, Nikolai hesitated. He wondered if he should intervene, plead mercy for those unfortunate enough to gain the Raven General’s ire. Three against one was quite unfair. In truth, the lord was surprised the fight was still going on. The three men were brutes but not great fighters. They were inexperienced outside the occasional bar fight. Their centers were unbalanced, while their punches were wild and uncoordinated.

  “That’s it!” One of the men was grabbing at their pants, head whirling around for a chance to flee. “I’m out of here!”

  “No, you aren’t!” Faye chuckled darkly. Cracking her neck, her eyes gleamed with dark satisfaction. “We’re just getting started.”

  “You bastard!” came the pained cry.

  Nikolai shivered at the sound but made no move to help. Those men didn’t deserve it. They were probably asking for the beating they were getting. Shaking himself, he quietly crept away from the commotion. He would leave Faye to her fun.

  ━━━━━━━━ ? ?? ? ?? ? ?? ? ━━━━━━━━━━━━

  The Raven General blew the hair out of her face. She spat out a wad of blood. One of the men had managed to land a lucky hit.

  She glanced up at the darkened rooftops. There had been a presence lurking there earlier. She thought perhaps someone had been watching.

  Tensing, she readied herself to end the fight. She had been toying with them long enough.

  Grabbing the leader by his collar, she lifted him forward with inhuman strength, bringing her knee up to his chin. The white of his eyes rolled back before he crumpled to a heap on the floor.

  “Who’s next?” she grunted, patience thinning.

  The remaining two men glanced at each other. They very much wanted to keep their lives… and their teeth.

  “Just you wait !” One of them rushed at her, but only to feint, grabbing their fallen companion to drag him away. Without another word, the two fled, running like they were possessed. In the blink of an eye, they were gone.

  Faye wiped at her bloodied mouth. “That was unexpected.”

  A hand landed on her arm. Faye clenched her fist. Another?

  “Thank you, sir! I do not know how I could ever thank you.”

  Sighing, Faye rolled her eyes. Turning around, she waved a dismissive hand. “It was nothing-“ She blanched at the sight of the person she just saved. "This must be a joke."

  Before her stood a beautiful young woman. Their pale eyes glistened with unshed tears and mudstains streaked across her pitiful face.

  The Rose of Eburean gaped. She was dressed in servant clothing, but her eyes were wide, clearly recognizing the Raven General as well. The woman faltered, taking a step back. “It’s you!”

  “Well met,” Faye said coldly. She crossed her arms. “Lady Asinara.”