Page 18 of The King’s Commander

Chapter Eight

Vanni

“How are the men?”

Thomas winks at a maid, who smiles back at him as she passes us. Another day, another maid for Thomas to flirt with. Standing at the front of the inn, waiting for Aedre, my companion attracts more attention than I would wish.

“Going mad,” he answers.

We’ve been in Murwood End for one full day. I’m restless and imagine the others feel the same way. While they spent the day ingratiating themselves to the locals, I met with two of Murwood’s lords to assure them our visit is an unofficial one.

Unofficial for their purposes, at least.

For Kipp Aldwine, it is very official. We are here to offer him the crown. Prepared to give him anything he desires to convince him to come south.

“Did Lord Bailor press you on our purpose?”

Another woman, another wink. The man is incorrigible.

“Aye.” I consider my meeting with him that morning. “A bit, but I pacified him, I believe.”

“You didn’t mention the boy’s name?”

I’m unsure why Thomas insists on referring to a man older than him as a boy.

“Of course not.”

“There she is.”

At his words, I push away from the wall and stand tall. Which, of course, prompts a fit of laughter from Thomas.

“You chastise me for flirting?”

Hitting him, prompting an “ow,” I watch as the Garra approaches.

So serious. Her full lips are pursed together, brows furrowed. She does not smile easily, that I can tell. Even so, her beauty dulls even the bright blue sky framing her from behind. Dressed simply but elegantly, she glides toward me, greeting those around her with a simple nod.

“She’s beautiful, that I’ll allow.”

Ignoring Thomas, I prepare to greet her. Prepare to spar with her.

For there’s no doubt she doesn’t like me. An affliction to which I’m unaccustomed.

“Good day,” she greets us.

Lavender overpowers the scent of salt air.

“Good day, my lady,” Thomas says smoothly, bowing.

Her response is polite but cool. At least she appears to like Thomas as little as she does me. I can’t help but grin at his stricken expression.

“Shall we?” I move toward the door.

“Nay, not in there.” She gestures for me to follow her, her expression brooking no refusal. Thomas and I exchange a look, but she’s already walking. I bid him farewell, and the last thing I see before I hurry after her is Thomas winking.

The Garra walks from the inn toward the docks. No ships are in port, but the area still bustles with activity. A fishing village never sleeps, and this one is no different.

“Where are we going?” I ask as the docks end.