House of Secrets and Vows (Crown of Deceit #1)

6. The Silver Lady

6

THE SILVER LADY

Q uin reads from the wrinkled note he’d just pulled from his pocket as we leave the rebellion headquarters. “The Silver Lady.”

I snap my attention to him. “What about The Silver Lady?”

“That’s where we’ll find the guards.”

The Silver Lady—the tavern where Aella went missing. The place where she…

I can’t bring myself to say the word.

I haven’t returned to the tavern since that night, at least not in person. Though I’ve visited the tavern in my dreams too many times to count.

For the first two months, I’d have at least five nightmares a week, taking me back to that night and forcing me to flee to save myself. Now, the visions haunt me less frequently, slipping into my sleep only on occasion.

With every nightmare, I desperately wrack my brain for some alternative. To find some missing piece I didn’t see that could change Aella’s fate. And every morning after I dream of that night, I awake to a silent scream, my sheets soaked with the sweat of terror.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Quin says as we walk down the dark streets. A clear night sky spreads above us, quite the welcoming change to all the rain showers plaguing us in the long weeks of spring.

Summer is almost here, and with the improved weather, more citizens roam the kingdom at night than they did over the colder and wetter months.

“This is where Aella...” I hesitate, not wanting to finish the sentence.

“Oh.” He places his hand gently on my shoulder, his large palm covering it entirely. “Felix didn’t say anything when he gave me the assignment.”

“Of course, he didn’t.”

Quin squeezes my shoulder. “Do you want me to do this one alone?”

“No,” I snap too quickly. “I need to face this.”

And all missions are to be done in pairs, one of the biggest resistance rules. The last thing I need to do is mess up and grant Felix a chance to reprimand me.

Quin nods, gives one last squeeze, and then pulls his hand from me. He has never met Aella, and I've kept the details about her and that night vague. I’m grateful he never presses me for more than I willingly give, an unspoken truce between us.

After three more blocks, we arrive at the tavern.

Everything about the outside looks as it did the last time I was here. There is a crack in the wooden sign hanging next to the door, light shines inside the large window covered with an opaque curtain that blurs the people sitting in the booth enough to be unrecognizable, and two silver bells hang from a ribbon on the handle.

Quin pauses a few steps from the entrance. “You’re sure?”

I let my step around him and into the tavern answer for me.

I pass the empty seats where Aella and I had sat, avoiding even a glance in the direction, and choose a booth in the back corner. I made the mistake of not having an escape plan that night, a mistake I haven’t made again since.

Quin offers to go get us something to drink from the bar, and I let him.

I’m being colder to him than usual. He doesn’t deserve it, but I can’t quell the anger brewing inside. I’m mad at myself, mad at Mavet for creating the House of Blood in the first place, and most of all, I’m mad at Prince Nevan.

Mavet had said it was an initiation. If the prince hadn’t joined, the group wouldn’t have been out that night. Prince Nevan already has everything a human could dream of—beauty, power, riches, an entire kingdom, for fuck’s sake. And somehow, that wasn’t enough to keep him from becoming a monster.

Quin returns with two mugs of mead, and I pray the liquor will curb the wrath pulsing through me and grant me the focus I need. The sweetness of orange blossom enhances tonight’s drink, so different from the deep mulberry flavor of the last time I was here.

Instead of sitting across from me, he plops beside me and scoots across the bench until his leg presses against mine.

“Well, hi, there,” I tease in an attempt to pull myself out of the painful memories threatening to swallow me whole. Ever since my talk with Alabek, I’ve been especially on edge.

Quin tilts his head toward me, a quick shadow flitting over his face, then grins. “Hello, gorgeous.”

When we awoke after the first night we spent together, those were the first words he said to me. Despite our interaction being more about numbing my pain than any true romantic feelings, I grinned at his words—the first smile I allowed myself since losing Aella.

I lean my head on his shoulder and exhale a long breath before changing the subject. “The guards will show up here, and then what?”

“We’re to distract them as long as we can.”

“And how do we do that?”

He rests his hand on my thigh. “We’ll just have to improvise.”

Planning isn’t Quin’s thing, and it's one of the things I like most about him. Our missions always hold an edge of danger and excitement. It’s beyond foolish, but in the momentary rushes of adrenaline, sometimes I can almost forget the hole in my soul that Aella’s presence used to fill.

We fall into silence and sip on our mead as we wait.

Anytime my thoughts veer to Aella, I steer them back to Quin’s finger casually stroking my upper leg. He doesn’t ask me how I’m doing, another thing about him I'm grateful for. We never talk about our feelings or our lives outside of our missions.

After two hours and two more glasses of mead, three soldiers saunter into the tavern, swords strapped to their belts and armor covering their torsos. Since the attack on this tavern, the House of Blood has gotten bolder, giving the crown the perfect opportunity to add more city guards to the kingdom at night under the guise of protecting the people.

Instead, it only brings more fear to the streets and leads to more innocent Valazicans being thrown into the dungeons.

The oldest of the guards, bald with a salt-and-pepper beard, leads them to the table right next to Quin and me.

“Gods above, I thought we’d never get out of there,” he says as he pulls out a chair and falls back into it.

Another guard chooses a seat across from the old one. This one is much, much younger, with barely a visible wrinkle on his dark skin. After he sits, he scratches his nose and glances at the bar. “I’m starving.”

“How do you eat so much and stay so scrawny?” The third guard shakes his head and plops next to the young one. Anyone would seem scrawny compared to him. His thick neck and broad shoulders showcase his strong physique, even in his armor.

Quin leans in and whispers in my ear. “Pretend I’m telling you just how mouthwatering the curves of your breasts are.” He runs a finger down my upper arm. “And just how much I want to take you back to my bed.”

A tingle sparks between my legs. I turn to face him, a playful grin on my face. “You’re the one who wanted to come out tonight.”

“Only to show you off to the world.”

We fall seamlessly into two characters madly in love, our usual ruse and one we fake almost too well.

“I thought you’d want me all to yourself,” I say.

He reaches up and tucks the strand of hair falling into my face behind my ear. “You’ll be all mine later.”

He winks, and I know that part isn’t pretend if I don’t want it to be.

We pause our flirtation to listen to the guards as they discuss the latest attack on a theater right in the middle of opening night. They don’t mention the House of Blood, and I wonder if the crown even knows who’s responsible for all the recent disruption.

The tavern fills as we oscillate between eavesdropping and flirting, and soon there isn’t an open seat in the building.

Quin lifts his glass and goes to take a drink, only to slam it into the table.

“It’s empty.” He slurs his words, his voice nearly a yell that catches the oldest guard’s attention. “Get me another.”

The authority in his tone can’t be missed, quite the change from his earlier playfulness. He dips his chin just enough to alert me to the change in ruse.

“Of course.” I smile at him before standing up. As I spin from Quin, the young guard eyes me up and down. I only bat my eyelashes and continue past him.

The barmaid hands a tray of drinks to a group of men at the far end of the bar. One tosses her a coin.

When she notices me waiting, she groans. “Paisley, I need some help.”

I ignore her rudeness. This place is packed, and she's the only barmaid I've seen all night.

Another woman comes out from behind a set of swinging doors that lead to the kitchen. Her hands grip her small hips, elbows jutting out.

“What do you need?” she asks the other barmaid.

“Help her.” She nods at me. “Then get off your lazy ass and take more orders.”

The younger one, whom the woman calls Paisley, glares, and when she turns to me, I suck in a breath.

She is the same barmaid from the night of the attack. Tonight, her fire-red hair is styled in a simple braid, a stark difference from the elegant curls she boasted before. And there is no sign of the smile she wore the last time.

The annoyance in Paisley’s stare softens as she takes me in. Her brow narrows for a flash before an overdone grin takes over her face. “What can I get you, Miss?”

“You were here that night.” Words trickle out of me without thought. “They let you live?”

The young barmaid ignores me completely. “Our huckleberry mead is especially flavorful right now.”

Did they do something to her mind? Is that even possible?

“I got out, but my friend was still here when I left,” I continue, hoping to stir something in her memory.

“Are you okay, miss?” Concern purses her lips as she continues to disregard my questions, and I almost believe her ignorance until I notice her clenched fists.

“Please. I need to know what happened to her.” I grit my teeth as I lose feeling in my limbs. They’d let this woman live. Surely, the barmaid had seen what went on after Alabek and I escaped.

Had she seen the prince? Would she even know who he was?

“I can’t help you.” Paisley swallows. “I’m sorry.”

“Watch yourself,” the oldest guard’s voice carries across the room.

I pry my attention from the barmaid and look at Quin, who stumbles into a chair at the table we’d been sitting at. The three guards stand above him, hands on their swords.

“Where’s my wife?” He holds onto the last word and meets my gaze.

Fuck . I shouldn’t have taken so long. I glance back at the barmaid, but she is already gone.

I hurry back to Quin. “I’m sorry, husband. I should have been faster.”

Flat on his ass on the ground, he leans back and stretches out his legs. “You’re always fucking up.”

“I…” My mind is too lost in its desire for answers about Aella to play along convincingly.

Our assignment is to stall the guards as long as possible so Felix and a few of the other rebel members can do whatever they need to do. Felix hadn’t given us specifics, which seems to be his new habit ever since I pulled away.

“Help me up, wench.” Quin reaches up a hand.

The guards step aside, watching warily as I do as Quin commands.

When he’s standing, he wraps an arm around my shoulder and leans his weight into me. Then he shifts his attention to the guards. “What’re you lookin’ at?”

“You’re causing a scene.” The oldest guard steps forward. “I think it’s time you go home, lad.”

“You tellin’ me what to do?” Quin’s voice booms through the room, quieting most of the loud chatter. I have never heard him yell at anyone when he wasn’t playing a role, but among the many skills he possesses, acting is at the top.

I scan the bar, desperate for Paisley to still be around so I can find her when this ruse is over, but the barmaid is nowhere to be seen.

“Get him home,” the guard directs his words toward me now.

“My wife will do what I godsdamn tell her to do.” Quin presses more of his weight into me, and I'm not prepared for it. I stumble and fall to the ground first. He follows me, grabbing for the table on his way down, but he can’t catch his balance. Instead, he lands on my thigh, and I cry out.

The oldest guard only glares at him, but the young one pulls out his sword as Quin rolls onto all fours and presses into the ground to get up.

I try to protest, to promise it's all just fine and I will take him home, but nothing comes out as the young guard swings down his arms.

I wince as I expect the sword to go straight through Quin.

But it isn’t the blade that strikes him in the head; it’s the butt of the sword.

His body goes limp, and he crashes into the ground.

“When he wakes up, get him home.” The guard sheathes his sword. “Or next time I use the other end.”

I crawl to Quin and push his auburn hair away from his neck then feel for a pulse, time sluggish until I know he’s still breathing.

“I will,” I promise the guard.

He and the others turn and leave the tavern without a look back.

All I can do is pray we’ve given Felix enough time as I sit with Quin and wait for him to regain consciousness.

Finally, two hours later, when all the other patrons have left for the night, and the barmaid on duty is cleaning up, Quin wakes.

He reaches for his head and sits up. “Well, fuck.”

“You’re lucky he didn’t use the blade,” I tell him. “Though Felix might murder us both if we didn’t stall the guards long enough.”

Which is all my fault. Quin only acted like a drunken fool because I’d been too scattered to offer any distraction.

After rubbing the gash on his head, he uses the table to pull himself up, then reaches his hand out for me.

We are almost out the tavern door when a female voice shouts behind me, “Miss, wait!”

“I’ll meet you outside,” I tell Quin as Paisley approaches me.

Paisley waits until he’s gone and the door has shut. “I wish I could help you, but the last thing I remember before waking up was the leader forcing the new one to drink from your friend.”

“Drink?” I shudder at the thought. What Alabek told me was true. The members were vampires, or something like them, at least.

Paisley fiddles with her fingers. “Everyone went around drinking the blood of the patrons.”

As she bites her lip, she reaches up and touches the side of her neck where two small scars mar her skin.

“What about everyone else?”

“When I woke up, I saw all the bodies scattered on the ground…” Horror contorts her features. “I ran out before anyone showed up to see what had happened. I couldn’t find the courage to return until two weeks ago.”

Gods. If Alabek and I hadn’t got out… “But they let you live?”

“I don’t know how or why, but the Blood King spoke to me in a dream as I was unconscious and told me never to speak of what I saw. He said sparing me was a small mercy, and to praise Malikar.”

“Bastard.” I wrap the barmaid’s hands with mine. “Thank you. I won’t share what you said with anyone. You have my word.”

As I find Quin waiting outside for me, thoughts bounce through my mind.

Nothing the barmaid shared is a surprise. I never doubted what monsters they all were. But hearing it and knowing that Aella truly is gone…

The world spins, and I nearly fall over.

Quin catches me, the warmth of his body pressing into me as he holds me up. “What’s wrong?”

Nothing, everything...I'm not sure how to respond, so I mumble the first response I can think of. “I think the mead is catching up with me.”

He doesn’t question me as he helps me find my balance again, and we walk down the street in the late-night chill.