Page 22
Story: A Tongue so Sweet and Deadly (Compelling Fates Saga #1)
Chapter
Twenty-One
T he room downstairs had darkened, and Lessia swallowed as she swept her eyes over the old furniture and weathered walls. Only a sliver of moonlight from the boarded windows whispered across the dusty floor. The rest was veiled in shadows.
Craven and Venko were deep in conversation as they walked in, but their heads snapped up when Loche slammed the bottle on the table.
“These next weeks are going to be miserable, and not just because we’re stuck together.
There is no food to be found, we’ll have to melt snow for water, and it gets cold as shit in this house.
” Loche slipped onto a chair, pulled the cork from the bottle, and took a deep swig.
“I have more of these, and I’ll share as long as you bastards behave.
You’ll come begging for it by day four, when your stomach is aching and you’re cold to your bones. ”
“What about a fire?” Lessia hovered by the stairs, unwilling to move away from the little light that shone through the gaps in the wood beside the staircase .
Leaning back in his chair, Loche eyed her. “Do you see any firewood? They purposely remove it, and whatever you can find outside is going to be drenched by snow. We couldn’t make it dry quickly enough last time to light a fire until it was time to leave.”
Clenching and unclenching her fists, she stared at the men as they began sharing the bottle.
She could manage two weeks without food, and she’d withstood cold dampness before, but no light?
There was no way.
Lessia started toward the door when Venko waved the bottle her way. “You want a sip?”
She didn’t have time to respond before Craven spat, “I won’t drink from the same bottle as a halfling . Especially one with her reputation. Who knows what she might have picked up from all her vile late-night activities?”
Lessia snapped her teeth together to keep herself from snarling at him.
She might have started and fueled that particular rumor, but Craven was no one to judge. She knew exactly what men like him did when they left their wives at home on their islands and ventured to the capital.
Loche slammed his hand on the table. “Don’t call her that! I told you two minutes ago to behave, and you’re already spewing your shit, Bernedir.”
Eyes flying wide, she looked at him, but his blazing gaze remained fixed on scowling Craven.
“She already roped you in, Lejonskold? I thought you were cleverer than that. She might be pretty to look at, but what Fae isn’t? They’re still evil beneath that pretty shell. As regent, you should be very careful with who you fraternize with, shouldn’t you?”
Loche’s lips lifted into a glacial smile.
“You needn’t worry; I would never fraternize with her.
We’re working with the Fae now, which you’re very aware of, Bernedir, as they supply the steel you need for your little weaponry collection.
Calling them repulsive names won’t help that collaboration, will it? ”
Lessia caught Venko’s gaze as the man fought a grin. Biting her cheek, she remained quiet, her eyes flitting between Craven and Loche.
“We wouldn’t need as many weapons if we didn’t work with them, Lejonskold.
If you didn’t call for so many of our men to become soldiers so we can keep braving the Eiatis Sea, we could cease the trade altogether.
That’s what I am here to stop. We need our men at home, where they can work the lands.
It’s becoming too expensive to hire people now, too few to choose from, and we have to keep raising prices of our crops.
” Red hues flared on Craven’s neck as he leaned over the table.
Lessia couldn’t stop her feet from bringing her closer to the men, heat flushing her own cheeks. “So you’re here to ensure you can continue with your slave work? Line your own pockets but not those of your people? You’re truly every bit of the crook I’ve been told.”
All eyes sliced her way, but she glared right back. “We’ve refused to purchase your goods for years because of the way you treat your workers. It’s vile, and so are you.”
A frown formed over Loche’s brow while Craven shot upright, his finger pointed her way.
“You don’t know what you speak of, girl.
How old are you? Twenty? Managing a few taverns in the slums makes you no businesswoman.
I have thousands—thousands!—of workers, and they’d have nowhere else to work if not on my lands. ”
She hissed between her teeth, “That’s because you won’t give up parts of your lands, as you should have under Loche’s rule.
You cling to your wealth because it’s all you have in that lonely, big house of yours, when you should have shared it to ensure everyone in Ellow can live better.
And if you must know, I am twenty-five, and while that might be young to you, old man , every single one of my workers can pay their taxes, care for their families, and live comfortably. ”
When Craven took a step toward her, Venko raised his hands.
“Folks, we’re not supposed to kill each other.
How about we follow Frayson’s advice and keep this to the debates?
There will surely be enough time to rip into each other then.
I, for one, would be happy to drink in silence until I pass out, so this time goes quickly. ”
A red haze tinted the corners of her eyes, and it wasn’t the darkness that made it difficult to breathe. But as she glared at Craven in the dimly lit room, she realized Venko was right.
She had more important things to worry about than arguing with an old noble.
Craven wouldn’t listen to a word she said anyway, and Loche would likely win the election again.
At least, he would if she could figure out how to obey King Rioner’s orders without learning something about him that would start another war.
Lessia forced her stiff shoulders to shrug. “You’re not worth my time, anyway.”
As the rage lifted, she realized the room had darkened further, and a prickle of anxiety ran through her, the familiar feeling of panic clawing at her chest.
With a final glare at the men, she made to stalk out of the house but froze mid-step when she caught Loche’s eyes.
His usual hostile gaze was nowhere to be found.
Instead, a flicker of something she’d yet to see sparked in them.
Lessia thought it might be curiosity but dismissed it when he drawled, “And where are you going? You’re not allowed to meet with that guard of yours. ”
Rolling her eyes, she spun toward the door again. “I’m going to find firewood.”
“There’s no point. I already told you,” Loche called out behind her.
Ignoring him, she slammed open the door and stepped into the freezing wind.
She wouldn’t make it one day here if she couldn’t find firewood.
She had no choice.
Table of Contents
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