Page 80 of The Throne Seeker (Vallorian #1)

R ose convinced Moretti that she’d come to the Snorri alone and was spending the summer with an aunt living on the outskirts of the city.

Her fictitious aunt had forbidden her to come, but she had slipped away, eager to see what all the fuss was about.

If Moretti had any questions about her story, he didn’t ask, appearing to accept the tale.

Moretti never left her side on the journey back into the heart of the city. She was relieved to hear the mention of food, not having eaten a single bite since breakfast. His colleagues accompanied them in the carriage, all of whom were highly intrigued to know more about her.

Moretti remained quiet, listening intently to her responses to the endless questions thrown at her.

She told them as little as possible, sticking to half-truths.

His gaze frequently shifted to the window, perhaps looking to see if Onyx was still trailing them, drawing attention as they traveled through the streets.

Rose wrapped her arms around herself, still caked in mud in what had to be the nicest carriage she’d ever stepped foot in.

With every movement, the drying mud flaked off her dress, leaving the black carpeted floor a dusty mess.

Moretti didn’t mind her unruliness in the slightest—so much so that he’d kept his hand on her knee the entire way.

“You can wash up when we get there,” Moretti assured her, noticing her tugging at her dress. “I have a large assortment of dresses; you can choose and keep any one that suits you.”

“Do you bribe every maiden you meet with a dress?” she asked, half serious.

His friends snorted at her question, acting as though the notion was ridiculous.

“You’d be the first—well, aside from my sister and mum,” Moretti added, thinking about it more.

Rose raised a brow. “I don’t believe you.”

“Believe what you wish, goddess, but it’s true.”

“Goddess?” She laughed at the nickname.

“That’s what they’re calling you,” Moretti said with a smooth grin. “You’re practically royalty around here now.”

“And rightly so,” Talon spoke up, his dark hair hanging in front of his eyes. “I’ve never seen anything like it. It was bloody incredible. How’d you learn to ride like that?”

Rose’s lips slipped up into a coy smile. “Instinct, I suppose,” she claimed vaguely.

Talon’s eyes gleamed. “Perhaps you could teach me a thing or two.” He leaned closer with a handsome smile.

“Perhaps I ought to teach you a thing or two about manners,” Moretti said, resting his elbows on his knees and leaning forward toward his friend in warning.

Talon backed off, slumping back into his seat with a scowl.

After what seemed like an eternity, the carriage pulled up at their destination. Rose peeked out the window, expecting to see his estate. Instead, she saw an enormous tavern.

Blood drained from her face.

Moretti exited first. “Coming, goddess?” He winked with a smile, holding out his hand.

She scrambled for an excuse, fighting her trembling hands. “I can’t?—”

“Don’t let the riffraff scare you,” he said, defusing her refusal.

She resigned, taking his hand and suppressing the lump threatening to rise in her throat.

“Onyx can stay out here with the horses. He’ll be well taken care of until you return. I promise.”

She threw a questioning glance at Onyx.

Go. I’m in no danger, Onyx prodded her. I’ll be close by; if you need me, just call.

Onyx’s reassurance was the only thing that got her through the double door.

It was the grandest tavern she’d ever seen—nothing like the monstrosity she’d stayed at with Roman.

The three-story building had tall ceilings, new furniture, and sleek, polished wooden finishes.

The wall behind the hand-carved bar displayed more bottles of wine than she’d ever known existed.

Even the glass coasters were embossed with a large roaring lion that read The Lion’s Den at the bottom.

Men and women crowded around the bar, all holding drinks.

As soon as they’d walked through the doors, cheers greeted them, but they weren’t for Moretti.

“The goddess has arrived!” a man in the crowd roared, lifting his mug into the air in celebration.

The volume boomed as others cheered alongside him. Rose shoved aside her fear and let a proud grin slip onto her lips, playfully bowing.

“Round’s on me!” Moretti declared at the bar, and everyone cheered again.

Once their attention was redirected to their drinks, Moretti gave her a lopsided grin. “Come on.” He put his hand on the small of her back.

Rose took it one step further, sliding her hand into his. If it was for her own reassurance or just playing the part, she wasn’t sure.

Moretti welcomed her advance without a thought, tugging her closer.

He ushered her to an adjacent dining room.

The wooden tables were placed on the outskirts, leaving a gap for the stage in the center.

Two opposite staircases led to the upper balconies above them with doors lining both sides, leading into what she could only assume were bedrooms, some couples already going up to claim them.

Her eyes got hung up on the stage, fighting the impulse to flee as her hands began to tremble.

“There is a room upstairs you can wash up in,” Moretti said, gesturing upstairs and handing her a brass key.

Rose forced her gaze to the balcony above them as dread crept its way into her soul. She hid the fear, but he’d already caught the hesitancy.

“You’ll be safe,” he clarified with confidence. “No one would be so foolish as to try something with you.”

“Except maybe me,” Talon retorted, wiggling his eyebrows behind them. His friends laughed.

It was supposed to be a joke, but it only made her shift in stance.

Moretti gave Talon a dark look that made him recoil. “Say that again.”

“Oh, come on, it was a bloody joke.” Talon groaned.

Moretti shoved him away, returning his attention to Rose. “Go on, no one will try anything.”

She pulled it together. “Too bad. I like a good fight,” she teased, even mustering a playful wink.

Moretti’s mouth broke out into a broad grin. “You think that’s a joke, but I’ve seen men kill for women much less worthy than you. Now go on, I’ll wait for you.”

She took her time going up the stairs, careful not to put too much weight on her ankle. With shaky hands, she grasped the key and entered the spacious suite, locking the door tightly behind her. She scanned the room, checking under the bed and the closet for any unwanted visitors.

When it was clear that she was alone, she exhaled softly, allowing herself to gaze into the mirror.

She was a mess. She took off her golden dress and found a new one in the closet before she began scrubbing her body in the wide porcelain basin.

Carefully, she placed the small pouch of powder on the large wooden vanity, her focus shifting to it as she shook out her wet hair, wondering how in Vallor she’d manage to slip it into Moretti’s drink without him noticing—there were too many eyes.

An idea popped into her mind. She debated it, contemplating if the risk was worth the reward. She settled on leaving it as a backup plan.

She tucked the small pouch away again in her breast, adjusted her new lavender dress, and went downstairs to find Moretti.

He sat in the middle of the table, lazily sitting in a plush chair, with an empty seat next to him reserved for her. He must have sent his friends away because they were no where in sight.

Thanks to her ankle, she’d only taken a few pathetic steps toward him when a stranger appeared.

She had to fight the impulse to jump out of her skin.

“Hello, goddess,” the large man said, blocking her path. “I feel quite fortunate to meet the winner of the Snorri. That was quite the show you put on.”

Rose strained to give him a smile, not liking how his gaze lingered. “Thank you.” She tried to sidestep past him, but he blocked her again.

“My name is Lorance Ilian. Perhaps you’ve heard of me?” He wore an expensive tunic with a family crest, parading that he was some wealthy lord in this enormous city. His long hair trailed past his brown eyes to his chest. He couldn’t have been a year older than Zareb.

Rose remained indifferent. “Sorry, no.”

He took a step closer. Rose’s fingers curled into fists. “It’s no matter. Why don’t you come sit with me so we can get better acquainted?” he asked with a leery smile that made her skin crawl.

“No, thanks.”

His face flickered with annoyance. “Excuse me?” Apparently, being told no was a new concept to him.

She stole a glance at Moretti, wondering if he’d come to rescue her. He was already watching them, wholly aware of what was going on. He merely observed, waiting to see what she’d do.

Lorance gripped her arm, redirecting her attention to him.

Out of instinct, her hand moved to the blade strapped to her thigh, raising it up to his throat. “Don’t touch me,” she seethed venomously. “I’ve never killed a man, but I wouldn’t mind the practice.”

She could have sworn she saw Moretti smirking like a predator out of the corner of her eye.

A group of men wearing the same family crest as Lorance circled the pair. Some of them even drew their swords like she was a real threat.

“Enough!” Moretti bellowed over them as he stood. “Let her go, Lorance, and tell your men to stand down. Or I’ll let her put that blade to good use. I wouldn’t mind seeing my greatest competition eliminated.”

Lorance gifted Rose a defeated scowl before striding away with his “jolly” band of men. She steadily lowered her arm and hid her shaky hands, stowing her knife back in its hiding spot.

Curse these bloody taverns.

Moretti was waiting by the window with a drink in his hand. The storm that had poured at the Snorri now splattered over the glass in fierce droplets, filling the crowded room with the pattering.