Page 120 of Flameborne: Chosen

I didn’t hesitate, didn’t think, just ran after her, sprinting past the door as it flew open again and others poured out into the night.

“Stay back!” I snarled—the Furyknights drawing up sharp, surprised as they recognized me. But then I was into the dark beyond the tavern, cursing when Bren ducked into an alleyway three doors down.

By the time I reached it she was bent over, one hand braced on the wall, vomiting.

I slid to a halt, panting, holding one hand up to keep the others back who’d stayed outside the tavern, but not followed because I’d growled at them not to.

“Bren,” I said quietly as she wiped her mouth on her sleeve and sucked in a shuddering breath.

I don’t know if she hadn’t realized I was there, or if it was simply because it wasme,but she startled and shot upright, stumbling back a step or two, wide-eyed, before she came to a halt at attention.

She quivered from head to toe.

Her eyes were so wide, even in the darkness I could see the whites of them.

I raised both hands, palms out to show her I meant no harm. “Breathe, Bren. Just breathe.”

She blinked several times, rapidly, then heaved and stumbled aside again, retching, her body convulsing as it tried to bring up the nothing left in her stomach.

I ground my teeth and glared back down the street towards the men.

When she’d coughed and was breathing again, but not looking at me now, I kept my voice low so they wouldn’t hear.

“Did they give you spirits?” I asked quietly. “Did they—”

“No. N-no. Nothin’ like th-that. It was… It wass all jussa mistake,” she panted. But she didn’t meet my eyes.

“Bren… if there’s been…misconduct,you don’t need to protect them—”

“No, no. Itss… they were nice,” she said plaintively, but her voice shook, and I could hear the tears coming. “They were good.” She tried to stand to attention again, but her hands were shaking, and the tears threatening. “I don’ wan’ them to see me cry,” she breathed, and the tiny crack in her voice broke my heart.

I wanted nothing more than to gather her in and soothe her, cover her from other eyes, spirit her away. But we had an entire audience—worried and whispering to each other, waiting to hear why I’d stopped them running after her. Not to mention the patrons inside the tavern that weren’t Furyknights.

This little spectacle would be gossip for the entire city tomorrow if we weren’t careful.

At a loss, I turned and caught eyes with Sovanne, beckoning him to come closer.

I stepped to the edge of the alleyway so Bren could see me, but Sovanne wouldn’t see her when he trotted up.

He saluted, and there was no alcohol on his breath, thank God.

“Report,” I muttered.“Quietly.”

Sovanne nodded once, then murmured his reply in quick, short sentences. His expression worried. “She’s been fine. No one harmed her. She went to the water closet and on her way back a man—not one of us—touched her. He claims he didn’t, but she was sure. We intervened and it should have been nothing. But she fled.”

Shit.“Who saw it?”

“Everyone saw us step in for her. But only the staff heard the initial exchange. I’m sure others have heard it by now, though,” he said, glancing back over his shoulder towards the tavern and frowning.

I nodded. “Take the men back in. Smile. Laugh. Tell them all that everything is fine. She was just drunk and needed some fresh air. Stay for at least an hour. Until the looks and whispers stop. If the man wants to leave, let him do so, but get his name. We’ll see if there are any other reports from the women. Just, make it nothing.”

“Yes, sir. But she’ll need—”

“I’ll get her back. Thank God I was coming as she left. It makes it clean and easy. Don’t worry, soldier. The divine hand has provided.” I winked and he huffed and then turned to trot back to his men and do exactly as he’d been told.

Thank God.

Thank God I was here.