Fortune Favors the Cruel - Kel Carpenter Page 0,30

sir.” The old man’s voice shook as he relayed the information to Lazarus. “We don’t get many visitors in Ishvat, but the stables out back will be able to hold them overnight for your stay.”

“Not a problem, we won’t be here for long,” he said as he took the keys. Lazarus nodded towards the front door and Dominicus and Draeven nodded back as they followed his silent command and went back for the horses.

“You’ll be bunking with Lorraine,” Lazarus said, handing Lorraine the key along with a pouch of coins that he’d pulled from beneath his cloak. “Take her with you to get supplies. We’ll be in the stables until you return.”

Lorraine nodded. “Of course, my—Lazarus.”

Quinn glanced sideways, catching the look Lazarus gave the old innkeeper, who seemed to be more busy humming to himself than paying attention to Lorraine’s slipup. He motioned with two fingers for them to step outside, and Quinn and Lorraine followed.

“We’ll need food rations for another week, and—” Lazarus pulled a slip of yellowed parchment from his pocket and handed it over. “See if you can find this,” he finished, meeting the other woman’s eyes meaningfully.

Lorraine nodded and slipped the parchment into the folds of her dress before Quinn could get a glimpse of what was written.

“And, Lorraine”—Lazarus reached for Quinn and dragged her closer, pushing her at the other woman—“keep this one out of trouble.”

Midnight Misdeeds

“Gambling is a poor man’s vice and a smart woman’s web.”

— Quinn Darkova, former slave, unofficial prisoner, want-to-be-killer,

and vassal of House Fierté

The room smelled stale, like the hay in the beds had been left to sit for far too long, and the wooded floors damp and in need of fresh air. Quinn wrinkled her nose against the distasteful odor, but Lorraine didn’t seem to mind as she bustled in with the remainder of their purchases that hadn’t been stored in the horse’s saddles. Quinn took in the room, a single small bed shoved up to the wall near the lone window and she headed for it.

When she landed face down into the straw mattress, she coughed, turning on her side to watch Lorraine ready herself for bed.

Dinner had been a block of cheese and cured rabbit around a cracked table that was missing a leg, followed by hushed talk that Quinn wasn’t permitted to hear so Lorraine excused them both. Back in Dumas, she would be getting ready for her act right now, but ever since she’d signed that contract with Lazarus every day had been consumed by riding and short, restless sleep, along with the occasional daydream about stabbing someone. Quinn was tired, but not physically. She was tired of being watched and controlled every moment since she signed the next five years of her life over. Not that she had a better choice after the stunt in the marketplace. She’d been kicking herself for that slip in sanity every damned day. Still, she was beginning to recognize Lorraine’s nightly routine by now and knew the others would be retiring soon as well.

Turning onto her back, Quinn fitted her hands behind her head, linking her fingers to prop herself up as she stared at the wood ceiling thoughtfully.

“Aren’t you going to get ready?” Lorraine asked as she unpinned her hair and began to braid it down the side.

“Hmmm,” Quinn said in a dismissive response.

Lorraine opened her mouth to tout another lecture, likely on her manners, but there was an abrupt knock at the door that Quinn made no move to answer. Dressed in her night shift with her hair undone, Lorraine cracked the door to peer out. She took a quick step back and pulled the door open the rest of the way. Lazarus stood there, his large frame eating up most of the entryway. Quinn sat up.

“Do you still have that parchment I gave you?” he asked, directing his question to Lorraine without sparing her a glance.

“Yes, sorry, my lord.” Lorraine turned away and rifled through her cloak, finding the yellowed paper and handing it over. “I wasn’t able to find what you needed.”

Lazarus shook his head. “I didn’t think you’d be able to in this small of a town, but I wanted to be sure.”

Quinn listened intently, her eyes sliding down to Lazarus’ pocket just as he turned his dark gaze on her. She slowly raised her head and met his eyes.

“I expect you to stay in tonight,” he said sharply.

Quinn shrugged.

“I mean it,” he snapped. “Do not leave this inn.”

Quinn flopped back down on the

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