“Can’t? Or won’t?”
“Bit of both. Sorry, Mia. Afraid your evening is doomed to be another disappointment.”
“Where were you tonight? Didn’t you have a guard job at a fancy party?” Her expression turned calculating. She was sensing a story.
“It’s really nothing special. Just a client who prefers discretion.”
She rolled her eyes again. “Those are always something special.”
Felix hoped she knew him well enough by now to know he wouldn’t tell her anything, no matter what she tried. He shrugged and crossed his arms.
After another long glare, she threw her hands in the air in surrender. “Ugh. Fine. When will you be back?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” His grin widened.
She attempted to swat at him, but he sidestepped neatly around her. “Unsure. Not for a while.”
Mia clicked her tongue, looking away in an attempt to school her face into a scowl. “And what am I going to do in the meantime?”
“I don’t know, fuck someone else?” he said, then laughed and bounced two steps backwards as her hand shot out again. “I’ll see you when I get back.”
She huffed. “Don’t count on it.”
“Wouldn’t dare. Bye, Mia.”
She blew him a kiss. “Bye, asshole.”
***
The pink and red light of dawn streaked across the lake as Felix returned to the Trevalyan estate. Rather than heading for the main entrance, he skirted the estate wall and made his way to the small gate by the lakeshore as instructed. A bleary-eyed guard waved him through with barely a glance, and Felix followed a winding path through the garden, the early morning air cool against his skin. It looked like it would be a fine day for travelling.
A pavilion was set up near the bench where he had left Isolde, its pale fabric rippling in the breeze. Nearby stood two figures, their travel packs resting on the ground behind them. Felix raised an eyebrow. It seemed this would be a larger group than he had expected.
The pair soon noticed him. The first was a broad-shouldered man. He was older – around fifty, maybe – with a warrior’s build, a clean-shaven, scarred face, and short-cropped hair. The second was a woman. She was ruddy-skinned like an islander, and clad in the functional attire of a scout. A longbow hung on her back, and her straw-coloured hair was pulled into a braid. Her gaze swept over Felix, measuring him up as he approached. Her companion followed a step behind.
“You’re the mercenary?” Her tone was curt; her expression one of vague distaste.
Felix cocked his head. “Not a morning person, I take it? I’ll keep it in mind. Name’s Felix. Nice to meet you too.”
The woman rolled her eyes, but Felix caught the faintest twitch of amusement on the man’s face. She turned to him, her voice lower but no less sharp.
“I still don’t understand why we have to drag along this complete stranger just because he happened to be there. How do we know he’s trustworthy? He’s been off in town for hours! He could have been rounding up a rabble of thugs to –”
“Luella,” the older man interrupted sternly. “Lord Trevalyan and the mages want him there. That is enough for me, and it should be enough for you.” Hestepped forward, extending a hand to Felix. “I’m Garren. This is Luella. We’ll be travelling with you and Lady Trevalyan.”
Felix shook the offered hand firmly, appreciating the no-nonsense introduction. “Good to meet you, Garren.”
His attention flicked briefly back to Luella, who was still giving him a wary glance. His eyes caught on a distinctive archer’s bracer on her left arm, made of a fine leather embossed with a bird in flight. When she noticed, her scowl deepened. Well, she seemed charming.
The prospect of additional company did not thrill Felix. It made sense, of course, but his earlier conversation with the mage had given him the impression it would be only him and Lady Isolde, and he preferred working alone. Perhaps Lord Trevalyan was questioning the wisdom of trusting his highborn daughter to some sellsword on a lengthy journey. Maybe he had reconsidered hiring him at all. Whatever the reason, the man wasn’t getting his gold back.
He looked towards the pavilion. It was unguarded and quiet.
“Lady Isolde is resting,” Garren informed him when he noticed Felix’s glance. “We will depart as soon as she is ready.”
Felix nodded, then wandered over to a garden bench nearby. He dropped his pack beside it and sat down heavily. He hadn’t slept since the night before, and the meagre meal he’d eaten before the ball felt like a distant memory. Figuring he might as well take advantage of the wait, he turned sideways, propped his boots on the bench, and tugged his hood down over his face. He wouldn’t sleep, because he didn’t trust these people, but he could at least rest his legs and close his eyes.
His moment of peace didn’t last. The woman – Luella – loomed over him, her hands on her hips. “Why would you take on a job like this? Do you even realise how long the journey will be?”
