The three men turned, blinking in surprise at the intrusion into what they’d probably considered to be a private conversation despite the ale-enhanced volume of their voices. “His name? I dunno. Randon or Landon or something. What’s it to you?”

“Just curious, is all. It’s not every day the most notorious man in Finfalla escapes from prison.”

“Allegedly,” the big-eared man said.

“Of course.” She turned away once more, ignoring their conversation as they lowered their voices so she couldn’t overhear. She polished off the rest of her food, ordered some more, and ate that too.

She was about to take to the streets to find out what she could about the city guardsman, when a commotion drew her attention back toward the corner table she’d sat at with Ludo. “You think you own her or somethin’?” a looming figure said, standing to his full height, hands already tightened into fists as his shadow fell over Ludo. He was a large man. Had he been covered in fur with nails sharpened to claws he might’ve been the spitting image of the bear Ludo had claimed took his eye. He was flanked by another two bruisers who’d hit more than their fair share of branches when they’d fallen from the ugly tree.

Her gaze flicked past him to Ludo, who continued to sit in the same position she’d left him in, except now the table was filled with no fewer than eight mugs of ale. Seven were empty while the eighth was only half filled. That in addition to the two that had already been cleared by the serving woman. The serving woman who was now standing just to one side, her cheeks flushed. The rest of the inn’s conversation had withered like fruit left too long on the vine as every head had turned toward the brewing storm.

Ludo smiled a sloppy grin, taking a moment to polish off the last of his ale in a single swallow. “I don’t ownsh her, but neithersh do you,” he slurred. “Which ish why you should keepsh your godshdamn handsh off her.”

“Thank you, but it’s fine. Really,” the woman said. “He didn’t mean to—”

“I damn well did mean to, and I’ll pinch any part of her I want to, whenever I want to.”

He made a move to grab the woman, but never made it. Because at that moment, Ludo kicked the table, upending the chair on which Bryony had sat and sending it skittering into the man’s midsection, doubling him over at the waist. It was impressive aim with such a crude weapon, especially considering his current level of inebriation.