Page 73 of The Ballad of the Vampire Prince

“I’m going to have pancakes. You want one?” Red shoots the tavern keeper one of his easy-going smiles and signals him for food.

I release a sigh, wondering how long I must tolerate him before Nel graces me with her presence. “Give me a reason not to kill you.”

“Rhianelle will be sad,” Red replies, smirking into his chalice.

“She’ll recover.”

“No, she won’t. I’m her favorite knight.”

All the more reason to kill him.

“I’m protecting Rhianelle from the shadows,” he says, stretching at his seat like a lazy cat.

I push the thoughts of rearranging his inside for a moment. Rhianelle’s enemies don’t just rise from distant court in the south. She has them right here under her nose.

“Thanks for keeping my secrets by the way. I know I can count on you. We’re kindred spirits, you and I.” He gives me a broad grin. “I think we will get along just fine.”

I don’t know enough of elven politics to know if he’s really helping her. The guys he killed are the ones these elves call the Valorians. A bunch of fanatic knights in a strange cult.

“Look, I actually did you a favor,” he mutters dispassionately in a low voice. “I would have invited you to the Grimsbane’s torture, but I need to properly dispose this one.”

I lift my gaze to look at him with mild interest. Red didn’t pin the assassin’s death to the town’s murderer this time. He simply made the guy disappear.

“The Grimsbane is one of Rainer Wiolant’s guys,” he says simply.

The tavern keeper arrives at our table just as he says that, almost crashing forward with the plates of food. That stricken look on the poor lad’s face is not because of me but the mere mention of that name.

It seems that Nel’s uncle has a certain reputation. The guy invited me here and hasn’t shown his face since.

Red mutters his thanks to the pale server.

“I don’t mess with Rainer. No one does,” he continues solemnly. “Back when I was a commander of the Valorian, we had to check this case in the eastern border. Two hundred and thirty-eight slavers murdered in cold blood.”

Why does this fucker sound so surprised? He goes out every night to kill.

He lowers his fork and stares into his glass. “I mean, yes, they’re criminals, but the bodies… Good gods.”

His face twists like he accidentally drank sour milk. I contemplate killing him again before he can vomit in front of me. “I’ve never seen something so sick. It’s like the wrath of some dark god. Their bodies were crumpled like this.”

He crushes the paper napkin in his hand.

This little tale of his is useless when I lack any fucks to give. If Rhianelle’s uncle does possess such power, then he should have used it on me in our last fight. That way he wouldn’t have to worry about me warming his niece’s bed every night.

Red leans back in his seat with a wide smile. “I’d be careful if I were you. Who knows if that power runs in the family?”

I ignore him and train my eyes on the ivory building across the tavern. Little Fawn is somewhere inside. She was in a rush to go to the meeting this morning. I wonder if they provide her with meals during those discussions.

“Can we talk about something while we wait?” Red requests.

Do I have a fucking choice?

“The wolf from before… is it just following me or is it after my queen?” he asks, his face growing serious for once.

“No. Just you.”

“Well, all is well then. Oh, you’re missing a button.” He points to my sleeve with his fork.

I’m certain that it’s the tree rats Rhianelle’s been feeding that keep stealing my stuff.