Page 39 of Crown of the Courtesan

“Captain Wellcrest has proven to be an honest knight. I’ll have him send scouts to gather more information on the situation, and then we can make further plans.”

The tips of his tusks poke over his bottom lip as he slowly smiles. “I suppose that’ll have to do for now.”

After our conversation fades, I walk over and peer through the window’s thin pane of glass, trying to wrap my head around the impending consequences of these revelations. The rowdy noise filters through the air, and the street at the end of the alleyway stays crowded with dancing and drinks under rows of lantern lights.

An ache settles in my stomach.

I’d give anything to be under those lights. Not a courtesan. Not a queen. No problems. Just me.

As if reading my mind, Rett says from behind me, “The night doesn’t have to be over, you know.”

“I couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because someone might recognize me.”

“It’s past midnight, and you’re already disguised in men’s clothing.” He chuckles, shaking his head. Pulling a cap off the peg on the wall, he hands it to me. “Here, cover your hair. It still looks… girly.”

My cheeks bloom with warmth.

He plunks the hat on my head. “You ascended the throne today, and that deserves a drink. The tavern is crowded, and everyone is already knee-deep in their cups. Nobody will pay you any attention—except maybe to see why you’re with me.” He gives me a wink that makes a snort fly from my nose.

“I suppose so.” I tuck my hair under the wool cap.

“One more thing,” he says, dabbing a bit of fireplace soot on my cheeks. “Now, we’re ready to go. I’m dying of thirst after all this talking.”

He tells funny jokes down the length of the stairs, and we’re laughing as we enter the tavern, but we aren’t the only ones. Tables and tables of patrons cackle with mirth, the roar of noise rendering our conversation inaudible. Not a single person looks up.

I realize I’m happy I’ve lost my glow—I’m normal now.

Rett squeezes between cramped tabletops before waving me over to a table under a window fogged with condensation. He catches the observant eye of the barmaid and motions for two drinks. In barely a minute, double tumblers of ale are slammed down in front of us, foam spraying, as she sprints off to help other customers flagging her down.

I bring the wooden tumbler to my lips, savoring its pungent taste. Turning to my companion, I notice he’s chuckling.

“What?” I ask.

He reaches over and brushes the skin above my lip with his fingertip. “You have foam,” he says before sucking the froth from the side of his massive green finger. The tavern is sweltering, and my neck grows uncomfortably warm. I take another swig.

“It’s good, isn’t it?”

But before I can answer, several groups beat their tabletops rhythmically, chanting, “Sing. Sing. Sing. Sing.”

The barmaid grins as she tries to wave them off, but they keep at it until she surprises everyone by jumping on the table in the center of the room. Her bronze skin gleams under the hanging candlelight, and she flips her large midnight braid over her shoulder before blowing wisps of hair out of her face. With her skirts pinned into her belt over her outer stays, she stomps a beat with her black leather boot. The tavern claps with her as her voice resonates.

A princess of sea, there she was

Bright as ink on the scroll, she was

She was

“Drink!” Everyone roars, and Rett tips his ale back in unison with the other patrons. He nods to me to do the same and says in my ear, “It’s a game!”

A princess of land, there she was

Humble as a seed, she was

She was