Page 11 of Poisoned Kingdom (Secrets of Dagome #1)

Roksana

I left the merchant as soon as we passed the guard post at the entrance, sighing in relief when I wasn’t stopped.

The city was just as I remembered. Loud, constantly busy, and filled with people trying to turn their luck into gold. I swallowed hard, nostalgia tightening my throat at the sight of market stalls blocking the street.

Here, in the poor quarter, the merchandise was mainly household goods, not-too-fresh food, and trade supplies.

But as I walked towards the city centre, colourful wood replaced cloth, delicious aromas filled the air, and small but inviting shops could be found between the haggling merchants, showcasing treasures from all over the Tir ha Mor continent, not just the Lowland Kingdoms.

‘Come on, make your move,’ I whispered, waiting for someone to make contact. I knew they were watching, and uneasiness crawled down my spine like an army of ants, but no one greeted me.

‘You look tired, traveller,’ came a voice from behind as a hand brushed over mine. ‘If you need a place to stay, I know the perfect inn.’

I turned. The man facing me was a common thug who likely thought he’d spotted a poor, na?ve peasant girl he could snatch off the street.

As beautiful as Truso was, the city had two souls.

The first was hardworking and mostly honest. But the second?

It was ancient and as dark as death itself. That was where the Brotherhood thrived.

Brushing my hair in what could be considered an alluring gesture, I uncovered the small tattoo just above my temple. ‘What are you offering?’

The man paled, disappearing in the crowd faster than I could blink, and I smiled at how much power the small mark carried.

I passed by an old tavern, pushing my way through the crowd gathered to listen to a bard, when, this time, the tip of a blade pressed against my kidney. A slim male arm wrapped around my neck as if a lover was playfully gathering me into his embrace, and I was dragged into a dark alley.

‘Welcome back, Nightshade, we missed you. But announcing your affiliation like that . . . tsk. I was forced to kill the poor bastard. And for what? The woman I remember wasn’t this reckless—and certainly didn’t smell like she’d crawled out a ram’s arse,’ he murmured, voice distorted by the mask he was wearing.

‘Now, if you could be so kind, come with me before I have to cut that mark off your skin.’

I slipped my blade from its hiding place and laid its edge against the throbbing artery in my assailant’s groin. ‘Thank you, but no,’ I replied, pressing the tip forward. ‘Though perhaps you could relay a message for me?’

‘Sweetheart, I’m too old for posturing. I’ll make it hurt if you insist on playing with that toy. What can your little letter opener do? Shave my balls?’

‘Men have always told me size doesn’t matter.

Oh well . . .’ I chuckled, my throaty laughter giving him pause.

‘Should we test to see how fast you’ll be serenading Veles on your trip across the Veil when my poison fills your blood?

’ As if by magic, the bard in the tavern chose that moment to warble a long, earsplittingly high note.

I winced. ‘I wonder . . . will you sound as talented as that crooning fool?’

He stilled, and the knife pressed to my back trembled ever so slightly. ‘Still as brazen as a cocksure sailor, I see. Jagon’s men are looking for you, and Boyan has ordered you to leave Truso, so let’s go. I’ll escort you out of the city walls.’

‘Is Jagon in the city?’

‘No, he’s rarely here. Last I heard, he went to Wiosna.’ The man’s throaty huff made me smile. ‘It looks like both he and the king lost something there. Anyway, if I’ve learned anything about his habits, he’ll be back within the week. Now, enough questions. You need to come with me.’

I exhaled slowly. That gave me a week to prepare.

‘While I appreciate the warning, I can’t leave. Tell the old man that I’m back and still loyal to him. Please request an invitation on my behalf and inform him that I’ll pay my respects during the Mabon Feast.’ I stepped away then, hiding my relief when he released me.

My assailant removed his mask to rub the bridge of his nose, and I recognised him as a high-ranking Observer.

‘Fine, Nightshade, but know this: the old man’s influence is waning.

I’ll bet news of your arrival is already on its way to Jagon, and you know he’ll use it against Boyan.

You’ve already broken the law by entering the city without permission.

The old man will try to help you, but if you don’t show up and word gets out, he’s done for, and I won’t forgive that,’ he said.

I nodded. ‘I’ll be there. Just make it known that I was invited, and I’ll take care of the rest.’ I didn’t trust him, but I had no other choice. Still, I couldn’t resist indulging my curiosity. ‘Do you always interpret your orders so freely?’

Amusement crinkled the corners of his eyes.

‘Orders are for soldiers. I’m his shadow now, and I make my own decisions.

Your presence will slow Jagon down. In fact, it already has.

The bastard is currently combing the dwarven mountains looking for his lost little lamb.

Boyan might value your life more than the future of the Brotherhood, but I do not.

Make no mistake, I am releasing you because you are useful—for now, at least.’

‘Happy to hear it. I’ve always dreamed of having such an ally.’ The sarcasm slipped out as I looked him dead in the eye, but the man shrugged, unfazed by my tone.

‘I’m your replacement, not your ally. I’ll relay your request, and if Boyan still wants you out of the city, he has plenty of Blades to enforce it.

My regards, Nightshade,’ he said, disappearing into the crowd.

My knees buckled. The biggest obstacle was out of my way.

Boyan’s invitation would remove the target from my back as long as I fulfilled my promise and came to see him during the feast.

I counted the days. I’d left the dwarven kingdom in the heat of summer, and—with my near drowning and the fever afterwards—my journey had taken maybe three weeks, which gave me some time.

I had two, possibly three, more weeks before I had to face the Brotherhood.

It wasn’t enough time to enact a solid plan, but I already had a few ideas, and Jagon’s absence presented the perfect opportunity to execute them undisturbed.

I started walking again, passing several shops as I skirted the affluent district, until finally arriving at an opulent building.

Its artfully carved latticework announced its owner’s wealth as shadowy figures moved sensuously behind darkened crystal windows, hinting at the carnal pleasures hidden inside.

My destination, the infamous House of Lilies, was a banqueting house and a theatre.

However, behind its facade of lavish balls and parties, it was a brothel where the cream of Truso’s society gathered to enjoy the finest and most perverse desires.

Liliana prided herself on catering to her clientele without prejudice.

The only rule? No one harmed her entertainers.

Those who dared paid in blood, often never to be heard from again.

The sun was setting, but it was still too early for the doors to be open to the public, so I didn’t expect a quick answer when I knocked.

‘We’re closed. Come back in two hours,’ came a voice from behind the small, half-open window set just above the knocker, which, despite being shaped like a tree branch, was remarkably similar to a certain part of the male anatomy.

‘Not for me, friend,’ I said, slipping into the old rhythm. ‘Tell the madam Nightshade is back in business.’

I reached into the sad remains of Tova’s purse. The owner of Lilies’ wasn’t fond of being awakened before sundown, so being here this early would likely cost me a pretty penny.

‘Madam’s in bed,’ the voice replied—but the hand that appeared through the window curled into a fist the moment a gold coin landed in its palm. ‘But for such a generous patron, I’ll see what I can do.’

The window shut, and I leant against the wall and started counting. I hadn’t even made it to fifty when the door was yanked open.

Even with tussled hair and a dishevelled negligee, Liliana Ordon was stunning.

Her signature white hair, slightly pointed ears, and eyes as blue as a cloudless summer’s sky betrayed her fae roots, and although she’d never known her father, his heritage was hard to miss.

She studied me for several moments, blinking and shaking her head while the doorman twiddled his thumbs.

‘May I come in?’ I asked, acutely aware of the protracted silence. My voice seemed to focus Lily’s gaze, and she rushed towards me.

‘Roksana!’ she exclaimed, grabbing my collar and pulling me into a tight hug, tears flowing down her pale cheeks. ‘I thought . . . they said . . . Irsha told me you’d left, but I was sure those bastards killed you.’

I stumbled forward, and we would’ve landed on the corridor floor if not for the helpful doorman catching us.

‘Well, I’m alive, but can we talk in private?’ I asked, cautiously hiding my emotions.

Liliana and I had forged our bond through shared hardship, though she was never one for overt displays of affection.

After coming to a hard-won understanding, I had agreed to craft certain oils for her girls—subtle weapons to use when clients became too bold.

Nothing cooled a man’s ardour more than a limp dick, and if that didn’t work?

Well, those occasions ended with oblivion and an empty purse to go with a burning sensation that lasted well past the long walk home to their wives.

But to say Lily never showed affection wouldn’t be fair.

We had spent countless hours trading stories of misadventures, and in those quiet moments, she came the closest to feeling like family during my time in the Brotherhood.

Well—her, and Irsha, master of the Blades and my former lover.

Seeing her today was the happiest and most worrisome moment I’d ever had.

‘Of course, come in,’ she said before turning to the doorman.

‘You there, go upstairs and tell the girls to ready the guest room.’ She scrunched her nose, only now noticing the stench that surrounded me like a heavy cloud.

‘And a bath. Ensure there’s plenty of hot water.

’ To me she said, ‘Why do you smell so bad?’

I chuckled, feeling something inside me ease. She seemed healthy and untroubled by Duke Tivala’s thugs . ‘This lost sheep found her way home in a shepherd’s wagon. How else would I smell?’

It looks like Jagon was too busy chasing after my ghost to follow through with his threats, I thought.

‘Are you hungry?’ Lily’s voice broke through my musing.

‘Huh?’

‘Are you hungry?’ she repeated the question, and I nodded with a smile.

‘Ravenous, and . . . Thank you. I was going to ask to stay for a night or two,’ I said, hesitating. I didn’t know how much I could share, but some things she had to know. ‘I’ve come back with trouble on my tail. Jagon found me, and he’s already tried blackmailing me with your life.’

She rolled her eyes and shrugged. ‘And here I was, thinking my life had become a little too boring and predictable—no one to poison, no one to scandalise with gossip . . .’ She laughed.

‘So, eat, and then we’ll talk. And don’t you dare think about leaving.

My home is yours. Stay as long as you need. ’

My throat tightened. I’d just told her taking me in was dangerous, but she’d brushed it off as if it didn’t matter. I followed Lily to the kitchen, fighting the overwhelming urge to turn and run away, leaving her to her comfortable life.

Her kindness, even after all these years, unravelled me, and I was terrified she’d pay the steep price for being my friend.