Page 5 of The Fury She Holds
Tal jerked her head away from the captain and pushed him. Carrick stood up, nearly knocking the table over, and bumped Daire with his chest. “Captain or not, your rank means nothing to me,” he threatened. “You’ll listen to Tal, or you’ll get out.”
Daire sneered at Carrick. The two towering men stood eye-to-eye, but Carrick bested the captain in muscle. Several of Daire’s regiment had scattered around the tavern, hands on their swords, ready for a fight.
“Enough.” Talwyn sighed. She stepped between the two men and pushed Carrick back into his seat before turning to the soldier. “What do you want, Daire?”
“A word… alone.” He narrowed his eyes at Carrick.
“Fine.Alone,” she emphasized the word, nodding at his watching soldiers.
Daire nodded and his men swiftly found their own spots around the tavern. He walked out the door and away from anyone within hearing distance, Talwyn close behind.
When she’d had enough, Talwyn crossed her arms and stopped. “I think this is sufficient.”
Daire turned with a smirk on his lips. “You always did try to control the situation.”
“And you always assumed I’d fall in line like one of your subordinates.”
“A woman’s place is at her man’s side, not fighting his battles,” he shot back. Besides Tal, the women in his life hadbeen decorations for their husbands to flaunt around like some kind of trophy, never speaking, never doing anything without the man’s permission. Their time together had no effect on his narrow-minded views.
She glared at him. “My food is getting cold.”
Daire sighed and changed his tone. “The king is looking for a wife.”
“Wasn't he already betrothed?” King James was barely three years older than her; a child compared to the rulers of the surrounding kingdoms. He remained unmarried and had a reputation of using his position to his advantage with the ladies of the noble families—married or otherwise.
“He’s broken the engagement.”
“So?”
“So,” Daire began, “there will be events held in his honor to help him find a wife. His counsel is pushing for a profitable marriage with a foreign royal, so he’s agreed to a masquerade to host ladies from the surrounding kingdoms.”
Tal inspected her nails. “I don’t see what this has to do with me.”
“As captain of the palace guard, I will be invited as an esteemed guest. And I am expected to bring my own lady to escort.”
She paused her annoyed theatrics and peered up at him. “Your own lady?”
“Yes, Tal.” He sighed, exasperated.
“I’m no one’s lady.”
“Well, clearly, we’ll need to work on your appearance and behavior, but I have the palace dressmaker at my disposal, and he can work wonders. And as long as you don’t speak to anyone, the night could be quite enjoyable.”
Tal barked out a laugh. She had been a fool to let their friendship mature into something more. Clearly, the man couldbenefit from actually listening to himself. “I thought I made it clear that I despise being used.”
“Used? Tal, this is your chance to get away from the docks. I’m offering you an advantageous marriage, that—”
“Marriage? Again? You think I want to marry you? What we had was a fantasy of your own making, Daire. Look at me.” She held out her arms, displaying her leather pants and lack of corset or skirts, her belts and straps with multiple sheaths for knives and daggers, her messy hair and dirt covered skin. “This is the real me, a bounty hunter. Not some shy little mouse for you to play with or show off to the vultures at your table. Let it go. I will never be the lady you wish me to be. Go find some innocent brat to spoil with your wealth and big ego. I want none of it.” She turned to storm off, but he grabbed her arm. On instinct, she used her free arm to unsheathe a dagger and held it at his exposed throat.
Daire tensed, but to his credit, he didn’t let go of her arm. He gulped before saying, “Do you really want to spend the rest of your life having to carry blades out of fear? I could protect you. You’ll never want for anything.” The misguided sincerity in his gaze infuriated her.
“If you think I carry these out of fear, then you know nothing about me, especially not what Iwant.” She tore her arm out of his grasp and stomped back into the tavern.
In her anger, she slammed the door open, causing everyone to jolt and stare at her. She seethed under their gazes and clenched the dagger still in her hand. A few soldiers reached for their swords until their captain appeared behind her.
“I’ll await your answer,” he said quietly enough for only her to hear. With a single gesture, he signaled his men to follow him out of the establishment.
At their exit, Sybil yelled, “And stay out, ya lumpish milk-livered pignut!” A roar of laughter erupted, followed by a few cheers of, “Here, here!”
