Page 52 of Not Another Happily Ever After

All I can do now is hope the old guard isn’t in the mood for a lecture, and for a quick recourse of the current conversation.

“You pulled her out of the water?” Wolfe asks, his expression unreadable.

So much for letting this go.

I watch as Frog’s fingers rub together at his side in what I can only assume is annoyance for being asked such a question. Or perhaps he too was hoping to move this conversation along. Regardless of how he feels about it, he isn’t given time to answer.

“Of course he did! Would you look at the man! He’s magnificent,” comes Merrek, his arms outstretched wide as he goes in for a hug. But Frog shifts his shoulders and steps to the side, leaving the loud knight’s arms to catch little more than the air beneath them as he stumbles.

“Forgot! This one’s got a hands off rule.” He thumbs toward an amused Frog, tossing his red curls out of his eyes. “Not that you’d know anything about that one, aye Princess?” He winks, laughing at the way mine and Frog’s backs straighten. “I think you two need a drink.”

“And I think you’ve had enough.” Says Myrrdin.

“A drink would be lovely.” I chirp, cutting their debacle short as I rush between them and the old grumpy guard.

Thankfully, everyone is contented to find their seat around the fire whilst saying little else. I choose the spot closest to the waning warmth, sitting on a fallen tree trunk next to Wolfe, who’s far too busy watching the fire to notice the lingering heat in my cheeks. Leaning forward, he stokes the kindling, revealing dark bruises that dot the length of his arm from where the old lady had grabbed hold of him.

I shift, twisting the dampened ends of my dark curls between my fingers as I search for the right words to say.

Thank youfeels insensitive. But an apology would be a lie. I’m not sorry he helped that woman when she so clearly needed it.

But I do regret his pain was the price.

I open my mouth to say just that when a small metal tin is thrust into my face, its brownish gold liquid sloshing into my lap.

The muscles beneath my skirt tighten as the cold liquid seeps through.

“And for the fair maiden, I bring you a drink.” Merrek rocks on his heels, entirely unaware that he’s also dressed me in one too.

The cup barely makes it into my hand when Myrrdin pushes his brother onto the trunk beside me, mumbling curses beneath his breath as he pulls a small, green handkerchief from his pocket. “Excuse my brother. He’s both drunk and a fool.” Myrrdin sighs, offering me the handkerchief.

I graciously take it, smiling as Myrrdin’s six-legged companion crawls its way back into the pocket it was just dislodged from.

“I don’t mind,” I say, and mean it. “My skirts were damp anyway. And besides, I rather like having the company. Regardless of how drunk.Or how small.”

Myrrdin follows my gaze, his lips quirking at the small sliver of antennae reaching out from his pocket. “You know, I’m actually training him to be a scout,” he whispers.

“Oh?” I lean back, eyeing my drink. “That’s?—”

“Weird? And would you believe it’s not the booze talking? That’s just him. But I’m—hiccup— the one they call a fool.”

“Yes.”

“Yeah.”

“One hundred percent.”

The other men chime in, all chuckling at the lopsided frown stretching across Merrek’s face. All except Rhidland, who’s stony expression seems to have permanently taken residence beneath his bushy brows.

“Then best get your eyes checked you feeble-eyed canker blossoms.” Merrek grunts, searching for the cup of ale still in his hand.

Across from us, Frog leans into something Wolfe just said. But with Merrek rattling off about how his twin brother stole his ale in my ear, it’s impossible to hear what,or who, they’re talking about.

My gaze lingers a second too long when their eyes snap to mine. I jerk my gaze away. Pretending to be keenly interested in the ramblings of the drunk knight.

Or at least, Iwaspretending.

“Did you see the siren when youfellinto the screeching falls?” he asks, drawing out the word fell.