Page 62 of Prince of Darkness and Deceit

I haven’t forgotten they’re my enemy, but the odd tension hovering between Rian and Jaxon reminds me they have secrets. They don’t trust me. Which reinforces the fact I can't trust them with the book in my possession.

I grip the strap of my satchel tighter and continue hobbling toward town, passing the southern shacks, nearing the market.

I expect silence, so I draw up short when boisterous laughter and enthusiastic cheers float through the air. My brow furrowed, I tilt my head back and look at the sky. The moon has reached its zenith, bleeding silver over the dark town, confirming the late hour.

While the Elders are continuing with the Late King’s Festival, the late-night party to honor King Korrin won’t begin for days. And last I heard, the town is still under curfew.

So who is out celebrating?

The pain in my heel has morphed into an unrelenting ache, but curiosity overrides my discomfort. I veer off the path leading to my home, weaving through the empty streets, until I come upon the source of the happy noise. Odden’s Tavern.

Under different circumstances, I’d peek through the grimy windows to see if Ferria, Anton, or Lev are inside. But after two nights of sleep deprivation, the wise choice is to go home and fall into bed.

I turn back toward the street that will lead me home, but pause when the tavern door swings open and two figures stumble down the uneven wooden steps. I recognize the messy blond hair of the broad man with his lips glued to the petite woman in front of him. Dian and his betrothed.

I step back to avoid notice right as Dian pulls away from Gayla to scan his surroundings, undoubtedly searching for a more private place to make out with his fiancée, when his glassy eyes lock on me.

“Elara!” he slurs with a wide grin. “You made it!”

“Uh. Yeah. Actually.” I hike a thumb over my shoulder. “I was just on my way home⁠—”

“No way.” Dian strides forward and wraps an arm around my shoulder, dragging me to the door. “Come on. Lev’s been looking for you.”

I try to dig my heels into the ground, but Dian is too strong.

“Stop it, you brute.” I smack his arm.

He doesn’t even flinch.

I throw a desperate look at his betrothed. “Help?”

Gayla giggles. “Sorry, Elara. You’re on your own.”

“Traitor.” I narrow my eyes with faux outrage at the young woman.

I don’t know Gayla very well. She’s a couple of years younger than me, and any free time I have is spent with Ferria or Lev. But she seems nice. And she makes Dian happy.

Gayla answers with another laugh, then follows me and Dian back inside the tavern.

The scent of stale mead soaked into wood assails my nostrils the moment I cross the threshold. Odden’s Tavern is packed.

Patrons ranging in age from late teens to mid-fifties spread throughout the sparsely decorated space. Most are so deep in their drinks they don’t notice my arrival. Those who do are quick to look away, but not before I see their suspicious, almost fearful expressions.

Drinks slosh as patrons sway side to side to the music playing from the guitarist in the far back corner, closest to the liquid-stained slab of wood that serves as the bar top. Everyone is laughing and chatting, enjoying a night of no responsibilities.

I wish I could do the same. Even now, responsibility weighs heavily on my exhausted shoulders. I tighten my grip on my satchel.

Dian tugs me to the center of the room, where a head of wild red curls catches my eye.

Ferria sits at a table with Anton, Lev, and two of his fellow soldiers and childhood friends, Blyne and Welm. My twin sister sees me, lifts an acknowledging brow, but doesn’t speak. The rest of the table’s attention, as well as the one next to them, remains focused on Lev.

When Dian and I reach them, I realize why. My escort's arms fall away as we listen.

“... and then I drove my sword into the beast’s eye just before it could chomp Giles’s flank,” Lev says, holding his audience captive as he regales the listening crowd with the tale.

Blyne whistles low.

Welm shakes his head. “That was a close call, brother. Too close.”