“You’re scary, you know that?” Ludo said after the inn’s door had closed, leaving Guard Crandon behind them. As expected, the streets were filled during their return journey, not just with the litany of entertainers and gawking tourists who never seemed to sleep, but also with a veritable army of guardsmen, all of whom Crandon had been forced to placate with a series of lies about misunderstandings while demanding promises that his ‘guests’ wouldn’t be bothered for the duration of their ‘stay’.

“So I’ve been told,” Bryony said, offering a wry smile bordering on a grimace. Even it was on the right side of attractive, which reminded him of their unplanned kiss in the corridor. He discarded it immediately, for she wasn’t his type for a plethora of reasons, most of which centered around the fact that she’d now spent more time with him than he was comfortable with and knew too many of his secrets.

“Also, you have a pet wolf?”

“Not yet.” She left it at that, which made him shake his head.

“Where are you going?” he asked as she started across the mostly empty room. One table had three patrons hunched over their mugs, but none of them had so much as offered a curious look in their direction when they’d entered.

“To bed. As should you.”

“I will. Soon.”

She made a noise that sounded overly judgmental but didn’t turn. He watched her go. It wasn’t as easy as it should’ve been.

When she was gone, he pulled up one of the stools at the bar. There was no one behind it, but soon enough, an adjoining door swung open. The serving woman from earlier stopped dead in her tracks.

“Evenin’,” he drawled, offering a nod.

“Trouble with the missus?” she asked, springing back into action, using a towel to dry a freshly cleaned mug before filling it with the same ale he’d drunk earlier. She didn’t even seem surprised by his lack of injuries from the brawl earlier. Maybe she hadn’t seen the extent of them before he was hauled away.

“We both know she’s not my wife,” Ludo said.

“Would it matter if she was?”

“That depends on the type of man you believe me to be.”

“The type that defends a woman’s honor. Now why don’t you finish that drink so I can close up shop and express my gratitude properly.” As she spoke, she leaned over her side of the bar, making it look as casual a movement as someone who’d been on their feet all day and simply needed a rest.

He could tell she wanted to forget her life as badly as he wanted to forget his.

Bryony

She closed her door, pausing just inside to press her hands to the smooth wood, feeling its sturdiness beneath her touch. Its solidarity.