Page 80 of The Fury She Holds
Tal hurried down the street, unsure of her destination. Her mind raced with thoughts of betrayal and confusion. Her breath hitched. She pulled a dagger from the sheath at her hip; the familiarity of the handle helped her focus to keep her fury at bay. She paced toward the water, where the sound of her boots on the wooden planks of the pier provided a rhythm to focus her thoughts.
“Tal, wait!” Faron called behind her. He grabbed her arm, turning her around.
She ripped it out of his grasp. “Majesty?” she spat the word at him.
He flinched. “Please, Tal.”
“The king!” She ran her empty hand through her hair and turned her face to the sky. “Was this all a joke? Have you had your fun pretending to slum it with the poor orphan from the docks? Am I a joke to you?” Her voice shook with anger.
“Let me explain,” he pleaded, holding his hands up in surrender.
“Explain what, Faron? Hells, I can’t believe I trusted you. I was a fool. Theking! The rake king who spends his mornings sneaking out of women’s beds. Gods, I should have known someone like you would never—” She wouldn’t finish the thought aloud.
“Tal, please.” He reached for her again, but she pulled back.
“Don’t touch me,” she snapped. Tears burned in her eyes, but she willed them to stay put. A thought occurred to her. “Is that why you were at the incinerator that night? Did you plan for that to happen? Try to get close to me, so you can get me alone? Take me back to your dungeons? Hells, did you order the mages to come after me? You did a fine job acting surprised when I showed you my fury, didn’t you? When did you really learn about my magic? What were you planning to do with me?”
“Gods no! Tal. I had no idea. How could you think that?” He stepped closer to her again when she tried to back away.
“You lied, Faron. You lied to all of us. You lied to me. You—” Her voice broke. “You kissed me, Faron. Was that a lie too? Dammit I can’t believe I actually thought—” A tear fell onto her cheek, and she cursed herself. She dropped her dagger and wiped at it angrily with both hands.
“Please, just let me explain.”
“What is there to explain? You had your fun slumming it with the commoners, watched us starve and suffer in filthand violence, then went back to your pretty palace with your overflowing plates, and stupid balls. Did you go back to your noble friends and laugh about the commoner who reeks of rubbish and thinks the king lo—” She caught herself on the last word.
“It wasn’t like that, and you know it.” His tormented gaze burned into her.
“Do I? Because I don’t even know who you are. Isn’t that right,James?” She used the king’s name like a weapon. Another tear fell, and she let it. She clenched her fists at her sides.
“My name is Faron.” He stressed each word. “Let me explain,” he pleaded.
“No.”
“Tal—”
“I said no! I don’t want to hear it.” She bent and picked up her dagger, flipping it in her grasp for comfort. She couldn’t look him in the eyes. “Don’t follow me,” she said at last and continued down the docks until she could find a tunnel entrance. She didn’t glance back, but she knew Faron stayed where she left him. He called after her twice but didn’t follow.
That night, Tal sat in Gale’s Tavern. There were places closer to the tunnels where she could get a pint, but none that she could get away with swinging a fist at a few patrons. She needed the rush of adrenaline to distract her from her anger. She curled her hands around the metal cup and hunched in her seat. Her eyes scanned the patrons, searching for one who would fight back, and her gaze caught on a familiar face with sandy hair near the bar. When their eyes met, he turned his head in an obviousattempt to appear occupied. Tal narrowed her eyes at him, noting the nervous tapping of his fingertip on the bar top.
“So, what if he’s the king?” Sybil broke Tal’s concentration and gnawed on a greasy piece of mystery meat. She had returned from her bounty earlier that afternoon, and it took both her and Carrick to stop Tal from burning down half the docks. “I say that actually works to our advantage. He’s got even better connections than we thought. Hells, he’s the most powerful person in the kingdom. What’s wrong with that?”
Tal stared at her drink but remained silent.
“Oh, I see. It’s because you kissed him, isn’t it?” Sybil leaned forward, excitement in her deep brown eyes.
“Drop it Syb,” Carrick warned while Tal seethed.
“No, no. That’s it!” She slapped the table. “Our little ball of fire isembarrassed. Did the pretty royal hurt your ego?” She smirked.
Tal, who had taken a swig of her ale, slammed her pint on the wooden table. She leaned across and hissed, “If you want to keep the pretty hair on your head, I suggest you shut your beak.”
Sybil’s grin grew further as she sat back. “Ooh ho ho! Wait a minute, I think shelikeshim! She thought she had a chance! Don’t worry, you can still be his mistress.”
Tal shoved her chair back as she planted her feet and stared at Sybil with fire in her eyes. She clenched her fists, and almost hoped Sybil would challenge her to a fight.
Carrick pushed away from the table. “Grab your drink. Let’s go.”
Tal stomped to the bar. She shoved Eddard’s shoulder. “Following me? Has he sent his pups after me?”
