Page 41 of Tales of a Deadly Devotion (Tales of a Monstrous Heart, #2)

‘You seem familiar to me,’ she mused, both hands on her cane. Curious but coming no closer. Something unsettling in her expression. In those sharp gold eyes, as if this woman knew too much and you had no hope of keeping any secrets in her presence.

‘It’s probably all her “wanted” posters,’ Gideon answered quickly, shooting Emrys a warning glance.

Thankfully, Gideon’s comment was enough to steal her attention once more. Focusing it back on Emrys. ‘What do you want, Blackthorn?’

‘We believe Montagor has turned to blood summoning. If he’s digging, he’s looking into the past. And he’s also seeking lords’ blood for his summonings.’

‘Why on earth would he need that when the houses have no power in these lands?’ Sigrid snorted, only Lady Ramsey didn’t share in her amusement.

‘He’s seeking a relic then?’ the Lady assessed. Despite her youth, I noted how heavily she leant on her cane. How pain rippled across her expression. ‘Which means you’re looking for something of my father’s?’

Lord Ramsey. I knew the house name. Knew them for being so closely entwined with the King’s missions in Elysior. Not a member of the lords’ rebellion. No, he was a sadistic brute. Crimes that spanned chapters of text. Mass graves left in his wake, signs of his devotion to his saint, and his king.

‘The old bastard kept many dark secrets,’ Gideon answered. ‘What is your price?’

The Lady smiled, something wicked flickering in her eyes as they ran over the three of us and, for the first time since stepping into this room, I feared we’d walked into a trap. ‘If you wish to trade , I usually like a demonstration of goodwill. To test loyalties. It’s the Reaver way.’

Gideon gave Emrys a side glance, but Emrys remained still at my side. Waiting.

‘I’m a fighter short,’ she offered. ‘I have a miroc bull that needs teaching a lesson. Rumours are you’ve gone quite … soft in your later years, Emrys.’

Confusion furrowed my brow, only for an unamused sound to slip between Gideon’s lips. ‘Pray do tell what we get from this?’

‘What you’ll be needing. If Montagor is coming east, he’s looking into the past. Only he doesn’t know what for. Not yet.’

‘And you do?’ Gideon demanded.

Sigrid went tense at his clipped tone, however the Lady laughed, another soft and genuine sound.

‘My father was the Mad King’s favourite advisor. What wicked things they’d whisper to each other in bed. Many have come to me seeking the things my father knew. And none of them have been seen again.’

‘Montagor?’ Gideon frowned.

‘You think that mad weasel would ask a woman anything?’ The Lady quirked a brow.

‘You already knew we’d end up here,’ Emrys demanded, a darkness lacing his tone with warning.

‘I didn’t survive this long with beauty alone, gentlemen.

’ She leant back against the panelled wall.

Head tipped in challenge. ‘The moment that Institute fell I knew how this would play out. My father had a journal he kept, filled with pieces of his madness. He handed it off before he was killed. Whatever he knew will be concealed in those pages.’

Gideon swore, probably at the prospect of another doomed hunt.

‘To whom?’ Emrys demanded.

‘Lord Turner. Rumours say it was buried with him, kept safe for when they could resurrect the bastard with one of their dark summonings.’

‘Where?’ Gideon demanded, a sudden urgency as his aether flickered in the space between his fingers.

‘I failed to ask my father before I drove a dagger through his eye.’ She nodded, opening her desk draw before pulling out a thick gold coin. The old currency from before the wars. ‘You’ll be needing this to find it.’

‘You’ve never looked for it?’ I asked, unable to ease my doubt that the answers could be this simple. That she would be this helpful. That the answers could be lying in a grave somewhere. Waiting.

‘I have no desire to read the monster’s ramblings. I lived with them long enough.’ Pain laced her features as if remembering something before she tucked the coin into her skirt pocket. ‘Some dark things are best left to rest.’

I noticed then how unsteady she was, how Sigrid came closer upon instinct.

Emrys seemed to sense her tiring as well, but where I thought he’d use it to his advantage he simply nodded, almost out of respect of all she’d shared.

Of course, these dark histories were something they had endured together.

‘Very well,’ he answered as he began to shrug out of his coat. The Lady laughed, excitement flaring in her golden eyes as she grabbed the small bell off of her desk. Shaking it.

‘What are you—’ I began as Gideon cursed next to me. Only for a young boy to arrive in the doorway. A small trut, earth-born fey with bark-like skin, and dull green hair.

‘Simon.’ The Lady smiled. ‘We have our fighter. Tell Mr Briggs we’ll begin shortly. Bring the patrons.’

‘Sorry ma’am, he says he’s not happy with the prize money for the delay. Wants an increase,’ the boy stuttered, wringing his flat cap nervously between his palms.

Sigrid stepped forward as if to sort out the issue but the Lady lifted a graceful hand, her smile wicked. Those golden, amused eyes coming to my own.

‘Tell the bastard we’ll throw in a kiss from the Kysillian girl who burnt down the Institute as an extra reward,’ she grinned. Gideon swore and Emrys’s magic became a deadly static in the air. ‘Just to sweeten the deal.’

Bollocks.