Page 92 of Of Bargains & Betrayal

Goddess, if looks could kill, Enora would’ve had me quartered on the floor. “But I thought if maybe you knew you had a friend here, that⁠—”

“He is not my friend.”

I resisted the urge to bore my nails into my palms. “Oh, I realize now that there is nothing but fire under that old bridge, trust me, Miss Wynn. But that does not change my intent. I am not here to chew you up and spit you out, and neither is the rest of Grimmoria. Despite the circumstances, and whether you want to believe it, you have allies here. I think that’s more than can be said about your current state of affairs in Odessa.”

Enora watched me for a long, tense moment after that.

We both knew I was right. Whether she would ever come to terms with how she was swindled and betrayed by her own family, I didn’t know, but it was as plain as the day was long. Was what I was confident her brother had done a little overelaborate for wanting to be rid of his sibling? Absolutely, but far be it from me to judge the actions of a pissant king.

“How long have you known?”

My attention snapped up from the dwindling nytefire in the hearth. “Known what?”

“Who Kieran really is? How long have you known?”

“I’ve always known.” I shrugged. “He kept none of his past a secret from me.”

Enora scoffed, shaking her head. “And how long is always?”

“Not long after he vacated Odessa. Maybe half a year later, tops.”

“How?” She tightened the blanket around her like it were a piece of armor. “Where did you meet him?”

How I thought this might be anything other than an interrogation was beyond me.

“We met at an inn in the Wastes. Well, actually—” I huffed a dry laugh. “We met outside the inn while he was getting pummeled by a couple of barbacks for trying to skim a meal. The poor kid was starving, nothing but skin and bones and the wildest determination I’ve ever seen.”

It was a time I looked back on fondly, now that it had been nearly fifteen years. A series of chance events on a pissing-rain night introduced me to the young man who became not only my right hand in everything, but my closest friend. He’d been nothing but a scraggly, starving boy back then, but it only took a day or two for him to cement just how much of an asset he would be to our traveling syndicate.

It had been the wrong thing to say, though, because I watched Enora’s face fall from seething to devastated. Her throat bobbed, and she shook her head, turning all her attention away from me and towards the hearth.

“I can’t stay here, you know that, right?” she said, her voice getting shakier with each word. “I-I can’t marry you, and be around him, and just live here, and—and⁠—”

She clamped her mouth into a thin line, but her lips trembled something fierce. The dying flicker of blue nytefire in her eyes became more prevalent as a sheen coated them. I’d lost count of how many times I’d felt bad for this woman in the last few weeks.

“Leaving’s not an option, I’m afraid,” I said carefully as I raised my bargain-marked palm. “Because of this.”

Her attention snapped over, and she scoffed. “You conveniently forgot to mention that when you coerced me.”

“It’s just the nature of this sort of bargain, I’m afraid.” She rolled her eyes, but I continued. “And it’s not that you can’t leave, per se, but the bargain will drag you back. When left unfulfilled, it will become agonizing for both of us. And since we struck it here and agreed to see its terms fulfilled here, you’ll wander back to Grimmoria without even realizing it.”

“And then what? Will you have me imprisoned for trespassing again? I’d love to see what kind of deal you’d force me into then. Or wait—maybe I wouldn’t even make it back. Let the Wastes eat me alive. That would sure solve a multitude of problems for both of us, wouldn’t it?”

“Enora,” I sighed. Now, I hadn’t doubted my mage when he said Enora wasn’t the type to handle things rationally, but being treated to a front-row display of that was a hell of an experience.

“I can’t be around him,” she stated, her quick flip in tone from condescending to devastated only further highlighting just how badly she was unraveling. “I just can’t.”

“Why?”

“He—” Just as quickly as the word left her, she drew her lips into a tight line and shook her head, though not fast enough to stem the single tear that slithered down her cheek. She fought a hand out from under her blanket, wiping at her face as she whispered, “Fuck. Not again.”

“He…?” I repeated.

She shook her head once more.

There didn’t seem to be any point in doing anything other than going straight for the jugular. The princess was pissed with everyone, and my mage was pissed with me. Eilir certainly had some feelings going on too. I wasn’t confident much more harm could be done, and, selfishly, I wanted to confirm my suspicions.

“He, what, broke your heart?” I hedged. “I imagine young love can be quite fickle like that.”