Page 31 of The Fury She Holds
“Maybe. It’s just a thought.”
Sybil slammed her fist on the makeshift table. The wood cracked. “So, youdidtry to work last night!”
“Syb… why don’t you give it a rest for tonight.” Carrick, ever the peacekeeper, shot Sybil a warning look.
“Or some guy just took a personal interest in you,” Egan offered.
Tal nodded. “Either way. I was too drunk to see him clearly, and he wore this ridiculous mask that covered most of his face. I doubt we’ll see him again, but if we do, I’d like to be prepared.”
“I doubt he knew who you were, and after last night, I don’t think Daire will be quick to share that he invited someone from the docks. People would say he deserved to get vomited on for thinking a commoner could attend the king’s masquerade.” If Sybil had said it, Tal would have lost her hold on her fury, but level-headed Rainier gave his educated opinion on the situation. Tal swallowed and trailed her thumb nail along an imperfection in her cup.
Egan perked up. “Maybe Faron could identify him. He admitted to being in the king’s court. I bet he was there last night.”
He had a point. Tal hadn’t even considered the possibility that their leather-wearing swordsman friend would be at the ball. They hadn’t seen or heard from him since that night on the rooftop.
“Yes, the handsome one!” Sybil shouted. “Tal, why don’t you go drink-for-drink with him, and see how much information you can get out of him!”
Everyone groaned.
“Will you drop it already?”
“That’s enough.”
“I swear, if you say one more word…”
“I think Tal is going to melt your hair.”
Tal threw her dagger at the corner post of a leaning building. She had met her wit’s end with Sybil’s teasing, and the stuffiness of the tunnels made her nauseous. Carrick convinced her to join him above, and they wandered the streets chatting about nothing important. Tal commented on how dapper Carrick looked in his footman uniform the previous night, and the brute shoved her into an alley playfully. She stumbled a few steps but stayed upright and gripped the side of the building beside her for support. When she turned to step back into the street, an arm came around her throat, and something sharp pressed into her rib cage.
Tal stilled, quickly taking in the details of the situation. She had several weapons hidden on her, but she wanted to let this person think they had the upper hand. Sometimes these loutstalked more than they should. She tensed, and her attacker took it as fear. His hubris loosened his grip and left him vulnerable.
“One move, and I’ll puncture your lung,” the deep voice hissed, a wretched stench wafting from his mouth.
Tal had to exhale to keep her nausea at bay. She instantly recognized Duncan, Pochette’s bodyguard. He had been missing for weeks. It appeared he’d escaped the slaughter that the rest of his associates fell victim to. The man stood less than a head taller than her, but at least twice as wide.
“What do you want?” she asked calmly.
“They’re looking for you. If I bring you in, they’ll leave me alone.”
Tal rolled her eyes. “Who’s looking for me?”
“I am. But I’m not sureheknew that,” a deep, silky voice said from behind them.
Duncan jumped at the sudden appearance of another person. He pulled Tal backward into the wall and tightened his hold on her, pressing the knife further into the material of her jacket. She winced. If he punctured the leather, she would pluck the hair from his nostrils one by one.
Faron stood in shadow, his hood pulled up and two swords in hand pointing at Duncan. He tutted. “I would release her if I were you.”
“Shut it!” Duncan spat.
“You should listen to him, Duncan.” Carrick leaned against the entrance to the alley, a picture of nonchalance.
“I’m not afraid of him.” Duncan jostled Tal and he missed her hand slipping to the knife at her belt.
“No, but you should be afraid of me.” Tal jabbed her knife into the man’s stomach and twisted away from his blade. She wrenched her own knife downward until he released his hold on her neck, at which point she stepped back out of his reach.
“You continue to amaze me,” Faron said to her. His hood shielded his face, but she could imagine the embarrassingly awestruck expression there.
Tal used her heel to kick Duncan in his open wound, and he collapsed onto the cobblestones, clutching his side. “Who. Is. Looking. For. Me?” she repeated slowly.
