Page 50 of Poisoned Kingdom (Secrets of Dagome #1)

Roksana

I ’m going to kill him. I’m going to look him dead in the eye and force-feed him the nastiest, foulest-smelling poison . . .

I stopped, reining in the storm of revenge fantasies just as Rey kissed my hand, brushing his lips over my scraped knuckles and blowing on them like some gallant idiot. Infuriating as he was, the king had all the predictability of mountain weather. And damn it, I smiled.

I snatched my hand from his and grabbed his elbow instead, dragging him towards the house.

My heart had nearly stopped when I saw Irsha draw his knife while this fool had only smiled as if it were the happiest day of his life.

I looked back, noticing the blood on his temple, but as Reynard came closer, I caught the unmistakable smell of wine on his breath.

‘Next time you want to get drunk and start a fight, tell me so I can pour horse sedative down your throat,’ I snapped.

He halted on the steps, forcing me to face him.

‘You think I’m drunk, Viper?’

His voice was practically a purr, but all I could see was the damned blood dripping from his wound. The cut was too small to bleed that much unless Irsha had used poison.

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake, come here,’ I muttered, yanking him closer. I leaned in, inspecting the wound. The blood was dark, steady, but not gushing—nothing vital, thank the stars. I moved closer, trying to sniff out poison, but all I could smell was lemongrass and musk.

‘If I’d known you cared this much, I would’ve let your friend cut me a little more,’ he murmured, peeling off the remains of his mask and nuzzling my hair. ‘Want to lick it, too? I don’t mind.’

‘One more word,’ I said, straightening and shooting him a glare, ‘and I’ll finish what Irsha started.’ I’d instinctively titled my head, giving him access to my neck without realising it.

The grin on Reynard’s lips widened. Mask or not, it was a wolf staring back at me, and he knew exactly what his words were doing to me. I wished I could forget he was the king and simply enjoy the mischievous man shamelessly flirting with me.

‘Come inside. You’re bleeding on my stairs,’ I said, feeling utterly defeated by this growing attraction.

‘My apologies. If you could show me where you’d like me to bleed?’ Rey answered, playing with a lock of my hair that had escaped my braid when I fell.

‘Gods give me strength,’ I muttered, pulling him into the house.

My townhouse was cosy and perfect for a young working couple, but with two hulking men in my kitchen, the space looked uncomfortably small.

It didn’t help that Tova literally brought his work home with him, the entire table covered with srebrec ore and stolen documents from his latest investigation into the dwarven traders.

Tova’s workshop was even worse. It was an outbuilding in our courtyard, at a distance from the house, but ever since he’d fired up the small furnace, you couldn’t avoid the smell of smoke in the house. And with srebrec involved, that meant no one was safe.

‘Find yourself a chair,’ I said, shifting a pile of maps aside. ‘And then tell me what in Veles’ arse you’re doing here.’

‘That’s an excellent question. I’d like to know that too,’ Irsha chimed in, grabbing the pitcher of water and emptying it with a few large gulps. ‘Gods, Sana, your creations are getting nastier,’ he said, wiping his tongue on my clean tea towel, ‘and they taste much worse than I remember.’

‘Serves you right for starting a fight,’ I shot back. ‘And what do you mean you’d like to know too? That’s rich. Maybe you should start by explaining why you attacked the king. What if you’d killed him?!’

Irsha opened his mouth, but I cut him off with a hand.

‘Just don’t. If this was about you two comparing the size of your daggers, I swear . . .’

I shook my head in disappointment, snatching the cloth from Irsha to wet it. Reynard had already claimed a corner of the table, lounging like it was his private salon. That damned smirk of his was firmly in place as he listened to our exchange.

I walked over and pressed the cold cloth to his scalp, trying to stem the bleeding.

He shivered as the water trickled down but said nothing. Instead, he placed his hand over mine, thumb gently stroking my knuckles while he fixed Irsha with a look that could melt steel.

‘He started it,’ Irsha said, lips tightening, ‘turning up armed and wearing a mask. I thought it was one of Jagon’s goons!’

‘He started it? Oh, brilliant. How old are you? ’ I asked, glancing down to where Reynard’s arm now encircled my waist. I ignored it, needing to deal with Irsha first.

‘And don’t give me that look, Blade,’ I said. ‘I know about Jagon. Boyan already warned me. Honestly! Do you really think Jagon would send one man for me? What a bloody insult.’

‘Don’t be so harsh, Sana,’ Tova interrupted, appearing with a pair of tankards.

He handed one to Irsha and sipped from the other.

‘I wasn’t expecting the king of Dagome to show up in our courtyard either.

’ He glanced at Reynard, then added with a smirk, ‘Forgive me, Your Majesty, but I can see your hands are too busy to hold a drink.’

That was Tova at his finest, but Rey’s smile only grew wider at his jab.

‘You are forgiven, Master Orenson. I’d also prefer my hands to stay where they are.’

‘Well, I don’t prefer it. Now, hold this damn cloth,’ I said before turning toward Tova. ‘And you—give me that bloody beer.’ I pulled away from the king, taking the tankard from the stunned dwarf’s hand.

‘I was trying to be nice, Sana. That was my beer!’ Tova complained.

‘Now it’s mine. Get yourself another one and pour some for the king since his hands are free.’

Reynard shook with quiet laughter. Even though my body was still tense from the realisation that we had barely avoided serious consequences from his and Irsha’s fight, I couldn’t help but smile.

He looked so . . . relaxed and at home in my humble kitchen.

I could easily picture him sitting there, eating breakfast after staying the night.

The mental image shifted—Reynard naked, tousled from sleep—and suddenly, the beer in my hand couldn’t touch the dryness in my throat.

My pale complexion betrayed my thoughts, and I silently cursed the treacherous blush crawling up my neck.

Reynard must have noticed, because the wicked man stretched out on the chair, displaying his impressive physique before reaching up and loosening the laces of his shirt, letting the collar fall open.

I choked as beer flooded my windpipe, causing a coughing fit. Bent in half, I cursed everyone in the room while the three men observed me in silent amusement before Tova patted my back.

‘There, there, you don’t have to try to kill yourself to prove a point. We’re all sorry for upsetting you,’ he muttered, marching back into the kitchen. ‘Do you want some, Your Majesty?’ he called out. ‘I know my drah’sa, and trust me, when she’s in this mood, it’s going to be a long night.’

Cheeky sod .

I grabbed a nearby rolled-up map and smacked him on the back of his head.

‘What mood exactly?’

‘The mood to beat poor innocent men who sacrifice their drink to slake your thirst,’ Tova said with a shrug.

Reynard placed the towel on the table and walked over to me. I stepped back when he reached for my hand, but with the table behind me, I couldn’t escape. The moment he captured it, he brought my hand to his lips, kissing the inside of my palm while my fingers cradled his cheek.

‘Please accept my apologies, Roksana,’ he said softly. ‘You are right. I shouldn’t have visited uninvited, much less have started a fight.’

Then he turned towards Irsha, letting out a resigned sigh.

‘Perhaps someday, Blades Master, you’ll join me on the training ground. I suspect we could learn a great deal from each other.’

Tova, naturally, snorted in the background, and I braced myself for another jab, but Reynard didn’t even turn.

‘Not another word, Master Orenson,’ he said. ‘Our wordplay has come to an end.’

My two closest friends hadn’t even realised when my mood had changed from teasing to annoyance, but Reynard had adjusted instantly, as if he were linked to my emotions.

‘Are you all right, little Viper? I’m sorry if I took it too far,’ he said with such sincerity that a strange sensation blossomed in my stomach. The weight of his words, the apology he didn’t have to offer, settled there like the beating wings of a butterfly.

Irsha had enough decency to look embarrassed before he coughed to get my attention.

‘Cold water won’t stop the bleeding. You’d better look at it, Sana,’ he said, and I realised the blood from Rey’s wound was still flowing.

It wasn’t much, and certainly not anything the massive warrior would notice for several hours, but eventually, with continuous bleeding, even such a small nick could cause problems.

‘Alright, let me see it,’ I said, touching the edge of the wound, smearing a little blood on my fingertips. A slight opalescent sheen caught my eye, and I turned to look at Irsha with a raised eyebrow.

‘Yes, yes, I know. It’s just a little herb of grace,’ the assassin said, answering my question. ‘He’ll live.’

‘Was it one of mine?’ I asked, touching the slightly swollen flesh.

‘No, it’s a cheap one from Jagon’s apprentice. I use it for marks who escape. It’s easier to track them if they’re bleeding.’

‘I don’t think I’d survive more of your venom, Viper,’ Reynard said, touching the wound. ‘It’s a small mercy the Blade has a tight purse. Will it stop soon?’

‘No, but I can fix it, so shift your rear. We’re going to my workshop.’ I pointed to the door, grabbing the king’s arm. Noticing his frown, I scowled. ‘Reynard, it’s just on the other side of the corridor. I have the antidote there.’

Once inside my apothecary, he looked around, eyes wide with a curiosity he didn’t try to hide.

‘Sit and keep your hands to yourself,’ I commanded, pretending not to notice his satisfied smirk after I returned with a small bowl of cold water and a set of rags.