Page 44 of Of Bargains & Betrayal

But aside from my mumbled comments around mouthfuls of food on just how good our fare was, the king and his mage didn’t utter more than a grunt of acknowledgement. Maksym filled my glass twice, so he clearly hadn’t forgotten I was sitting beside him, on his invitation, but he didn’t extend an ounce of that hospitality to Jasper.

The palpable tension brewing between them would’ve been humorous, if it weren’t for how it left me to think about little other than how my situation kept multiplying into a bigger mess.

I would’ve killed for an ounce of lighthearted dinner conversation, because the food only went so far in corralling my thoughts, especially when a flush started creeping back into my skin.

It was why, after a petite Umbrite woman with a limp and a missing eye served us heaping slices of berry pie, I opened my mouth.

The wine probably helped with that too.

“You know, Jasper,” I drew out his name, and the mage’s shadowed attention snapped up from his plate. “If the whole mysterious hood thing is just for me, you don’t need to worry about it.”

The king made a thoughtful noise deep in his throat and rose, walking over to one of the sideboard tables. Jasper said nothing, but I had plenty of words ready.

“Whatever’s wrong with your face—if there even is anything wrong with it—I’m sure I’ve seen plenty worse.” I reached for my wine glass but found it empty. “There are bright iron mines near the fortress I grew up in, and the techniques they extract the ore aren’t exactly safe. I’ve spent my whole life around people with terrible burns and disfigurements. Whatever you’ve got will not bother me, I promise.”

The mage’s chest rose and fell with a huff. “My hood isn’t for your comfort.”

Maybe I was mistaken in thinking the mage was the more hospitable one. I opened my mouth to expel something half thought out, but Maksym inserted his lean frame into my periphery with a bottle of spirits and three glasses.

“A little something stronger to round out our meal.” He set down the glasses with a clunk between our three place settings and uncorked the amber liquid. “Have you ever had lapsus, Miss Wynn?”

“Lapsus? No…I can’t say I have.” I waited for him to finish pouring us each a couple of fingers’ worth before I snatched the bottle from his hands. Something about the small label pasted onto it—a simple, cream-colored square with a rose stamped in black ink—hit a note of familiarity in my mind. “What is it?”

“Only the most traditional Umbrite tavern fodder.” He slid a glass towards his mage, then me, and took one for himself before sitting. “I’d be shocked if you had. I doubt it makes it very far out of our borders.”

There seemed to be a growing number of things I realized didn’t make it outside of Grimmoria’s borders—information, mostly.

Though now I could add goods to that list too.

I picked up the glass, a weighty crystal piece etched with waves, and gave its contents a cursory swirl before lifting it to my nose for a sniff.

My stomach turned with such ferocity, I tensed.

It smelled similar enough to spirits I’d put back in our own taverns in Odessa—maybe a little more aged than I was used to—but something about it stirred an unpleasant part of my mind.

Maybe it was my body’s way of telling me I had drunk it on one of many muddy nights, and it would appreciate it if I never did again, especially as tonics were fighting desperately in my system.

Unfortunately for my body, the king and his mage were watching me expectantly.

Well, at least I thought the mage was. Hard to tell with the brooding, shadowy hood business.

I offered a tight smile, and Maksym raised his glass, muttering, “Audeamus,” before he downed his drink in one pull.

While I didn’t speak…whatever an Umbrite’s ancestral tongue was, I knew enough about drinking to take my cue.

I pleaded with my stomach as I shot back the spirits, to not revolt at my blatant disregard of its warning as that sharp burn slid down my throat. The last thing I wanted to do was immediately expel the lapsus and our meal all over the table and have the king reconsider his offers. Not that I felt strongly about any of my options, but it was nice to have a variety other than just straight to my death.

“Alright there, Miss Wynn?” Maksym laughed as he moved to refill his and Jasper’s glasses.

I kept my empty glass well away from him as I hissed, “Great.”

He shot an amused glance at his mage, amber eyes bright, but he didn’t goad me any further. Which was a blessing, as I focused on struggling through the rest of the pie I’d been so kindly served. Minutes ago, it had been delicious, but with the way my stomach churned now, it may very well have been spoiled.

Handling my liquor wasn’t something I’d ever had an issue with, but I clearly wasn’t operating on my norm.

The silence at the table persisted until the king’s chair creaked as he sank back in it.

“Now, a proper dinner in the Keep always includes me raking Jasper over the coals at cards in the lounge,” he said, drawing a hefty sigh from his mage. “In the name of your informed decision, Miss Wynn…would you like to join us?”