A man with a thick beard and bushy gray hair grabs my arm. He eyeballs me. “Who are you, sweet?”
80
Ugh. Trapped.
I play with a lock of my hair and try to look as vapid as possible. “Hey, sugar. I’m looking for the whore tent but all these tents look the same.” I manage to choke out a high pitched giggle. “You know where it is?”
He squints at me. “You new?”
I nod eagerly. “I’m to serve Lord Aron tonight.”
“Sure you are.” He reaches forward and puts his hands on me. Stunned, I wait in silence…and realize he’s patting me down, looking for weapons. “Not just any tart can show up here, you know. You have to be invited.”
“Oh, I was invited,” I reassure him, doing my best not to kick him in the balls when he feels my ass and then moves down my thighs. “I don’t have any blades.”
Just the vial of Godsfire in my pocket, that’s all.
“I’ll be the judge of that.” He turns me around roughly and then continues to pat me down, and I try to act like it’s normal. Like it’s what I expected to happen and I’m not out of my mind with terror right now.
I squeak in surprise when he grabs my tits, and shove them off. “Unless you’re Lord Aron, that’ll cost you some coin.”
He barks a laugh and then slaps me on the ass. “Maybe I’ll see you later then, tart. Whore tent’s that way.” He gives me a little shove in that direction and then leaves.
Oh thank fuck. I fight back the dizzying relief that threatens to choke me, blinking hard, and then continue on toward an entirely different tent.
The one with the spider.
I’m shocked I’m able to get there without being stopped again, but I make it. There are men in the front, so I carefully circle around the back. Here, it’s sludgy and muddy, but one end of the tent is loose, the stake losing purchase in the muck. I glance around, then get down on hands and knees, crawling underneath the side on my belly. I’m covered in mud from chin to toe, but I didn’t come this far just to get stopped now.
I have the Godsfire and I have my purpose. It’s now or never.
When I come in on the other side, I’m hidden behind a bunch of trunks. I get to my feet as quietly as I can and peer out from behind them. The inside of the tent is pretty nice. There’s a bunch of trunks, but there’s also a large assortment of food on a table, a mirror, and a loom for weaving. A woman sits on the edge of a cot, a book in her hands. She’s rather average looking, with brown hair and a young face. I kind of thought Hedonism Aron would pick someone more like Yulenna, but this is just a girl. Just an ordinary woman a few years younger than me, who can apparently read.
As I watch, she gets to her feet and moves to a trunk across the room, setting her book down and rummaging through the trunk. She pulls out a pouch and leans over it, and then I hear her snort deep.
Nose spices. She’s getting high. That works for me, though. Now’s my chance. I can’t wait any longer.
I close my eyes, think of my beloved Aron’s face. I think of the arrogant jerk and when he first held his hand out to me. Tadekha’s Citadel. Picking glass out of his back. Curling in bed with him. Touching him. Loving him. How he smiled down at me this morning as I lay in bed and I felt so protected and loved and…happy.
I’m doing this because I want that Aron to live on forever.
I open my eyes, ready to move out, when the tent opens. The flap rustles and a big man walks in, scanning the room. Outside, I hear the distant crackle of thunder. “Where are you, Naeri?”
The girl rubs her nose, sniffing again. “Here.”
The man steps forward, and as he moves out of the sunlight and into the interior of the tent, I bite down on my lip to keep from shouting in surprise. It’s Aron.
Sort of.
If I didn’t see the mismatched eyes, I wouldn’t have recognized him. This Aron is covered in glittering armor that’s been encrusted with gems. A long cloak sweeps over his shoulder, and it’s encrusted with embroidery and trimmed with thick fur. Everything about him is gaudy,