Page 78 of Nocturn

The innkeeper moved to the first chamber with the propped open entry. Two girls rushed out, sweat glistening on their temples. They were dressed as servants, and one of them had a canine wraithling at her side.

Poverty was not only limited to redbloods, but bluebloods had freedoms while the redblood must have been assigned to this innkeeper. All still-living redbloods must be registered to a highborn blueblood.

Once I was inside, he shut the door. I scanned the well-sized area hosting a bed that would fit him. They must have ensured they had a place for him. Dusklight no longer filtered through the slim window pane near the bed.

Lord Draven took the bag from me, pulling out the Creation Scripture, and slapped it on the wooden desk across from the bed. Then he drew out a journal, quill, and ink.

“Your meal will be delivered.” He tapped the top of the leather book, causing the candle upon the desk to shudder. “Translate.” With that ominous order, he left the chamber, leaving me in ringing silence.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Wounded

Islumped on the hard wooden chair at the desk in the inn, pressing cloth to my nose.

I was in desperate need of a break. Every part of the second handkerchief had absorbed blood.

Not even the bath Lord Draven had delivered for me had aided the throbbing in my temples.

Enough time had passed that I had managed to translate a few pages. More talk of redbloods being a weakness and the cause of so much damage. It droned on incessantly.

Nothing but crumbs remained on the metal platter. As simple as the buttered bread was, it was delicious paired with the rice water. I lifted the metal lip to my lips and finished the last of it.

Simply delicious. And it caused a warmth in my belly. I peered back at the bed. If I slid into it and slept . . . One moment, it was a single bed. Would he force me to sleep on the ground or . . .

Perhaps he would allow me to rest beside him.

Flutters expanded in my belly rampantly.

I closed my eyes, thinking of the prior night we claimed each other. The glide of him inside me. How deliciously the pleasure bloomed.

Frustration gnawed at my belly. What was taking Lord Draven so long to return?

I huffed, stretching my arms from side to side. If he was not here, I would bring him here.

I would show him . . . What did I want to show him?

Heat flushed down my neck, and I pressed the back of my hand to my cheek. I was so warm. My feet moved before I made the decision. I was at the door and descending within moments. Each step elevated my pulse.

Finding the large bastard should be easy.

I laughed to myself.

One of the patrons eyed me with concern, scanning my servants’ gown, one specifically denoting redbloods. As if I had morphed into a Hollow before his eyes.

I snorted. That may as well be what redbloods were with how all looked down upon us. I crossed the entrance; a thick metal bar fitted to the hooks framed the door. Laughter echoed from the hall opposite the one I exited from. I followed the sound down a path that opened into a bustling saloon.

The scent of mead lingered in the air.

My gaze went to Lord Draven immediately.

He sat with legs splayed wide, a tankard engulfed by one hand. A woman approached his side, so loud that I heard her ‘Your Highness’ from where I stood.

I scoffed, anger welling with intensity.

This was what he did as I translated and bled out from my nose? Preposterously unfair.

How Elite of him.