CHAPTER 23 The Only Slave Trader Who Ran Away

CHAPTER 23

The Only Slave Trader Who Ran Away

Rufus

I unconsciously moved between Jack and Minstrel Bronwynn when I heard the worry in her voice.

“ I am Jack Laverick.” The well-dressed man bowed in greeting. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“We’ve already met,” the minstrel said dryly. “When you kidnapped me.”

“No helping it, but I do apologize to Minstrel Bronwynn.” He ran a hand through his sideswept ear-length hair. “If it helps, Jacques was just my undercover persona, and I would have rescued you when we reached the drop-off.”

“That does help,” she stated blandly. “And it explains why you were the only slave trader who ran away . Here I thought you were just a coward.”

Jack countered with a confident smile. “I am very good at running, thank you. It is hard to perfect a well-timed retreat, and I’m one of the best! You had rescued yourselves, so there wasn’t much to do except return and report to Duke Wyldon.”

“Furthermore,” the duke coughed, “I would like to add that we had no idea who they were planning to kidnap, only that Marquess Chadwick was up to something nefarious. It was a rare opportunity to get proof of his crimes in action.”

I crossed my arms and cut in. “At least the man is in the mines now.”

“My other operative, Jess, made it to the mansion where they locked up the Dark Lord.” The duke nodded. “We were gathering proof when the princess burst in and saved him.”

“I’m surprised, actually,” I said. “I thought Servalt’s nobility were highly respected for their honor, while your merchants were corrupt. I guess the times are changing. ”

There was a quiet moment as they all stared at me with mixed looks: Bronwynn pleased, Jack surprised, and Wyldon exasperated. Provoking the duke was on the list of small tasks my king had given me while traveling, but it was proving a very enjoyable chore.

“I do not think that you have any right to judge our entire noble class on the actions of one,” Duke Wyldon finally retorted. “You have an arachne general. They are literal cann—”

“Ah, ah, ah!” I interrupted. “I thought you were just saying how we shouldn’t base the actions of one on the many? At least take a breath before you lead into hypocrisy.”

Bronwynn was gaping with unfettered glee. I was glad to see she was enjoying herself.

Jack, a true master of his craft, had silently moved toward the door. He bore no noticeable weapons except a small dagger that poked out of his boot, so if our heated words came to blows, he was probably aiming to run out and summon the guards.

“You’ve gone too far!” The duke’s complexion had turned grayer as I spoke, and I could almost see the man’s blood pressure spiking. I’d finally broken through his defenses. “I—”

A knock interrupted my victory, and we all turned to see the female attendant from before wheeling in a trolley. She looked about innocently. “Tea?”

“For my guests ,” Duke Wyldon ground out. “I have more important matters to attend to. Jack, come with me.”

It looked like Jack wasn’t the only one who had skill in a well-timed retreat.

“That was impressive !” Bronwynn plopped herself back down in her chosen armchair and slouched into the seat. “I’m impressed.”

“Thank you.” I rejoined her in the other armchair and turned to the waiting attendant. “And thank you. For the tea.”

She passed me a cup of steeped honeybush tea, a gentle drink with a slight citrus scent. She looked a little worried. “My pleasure. Though I hope I didn’t interrupt anything too important … I’ve never seen the duke leave like that.”

“He’s not angry at you.” Bronwynn piped up from her chair. She happily accepted her tea as well. “We might have been discussing heavy politics, and emotions were running high.”

An excellent way to put it. I approved.

The minstrel continued, “Which is why some calming tea will do us all some good. What are those?” She pointed to a few pastries stacked on a tray next to the teapot.

“Huckleberry tarts and some garlic scones.” The attendant smiled. “Please enjoy, and when you are ready, I can show you to your room!”

There was a second while the words registered. I was the first to speak. “We will be needing two rooms. ”

“We aren’t …” Bronwynn began, then changed it to, “We simply traveled here together. But we aren’t together together.”

The attendant looked between us and then met my eyes, her expression pained. “But you only brought one invitation.”

At that, Bronwynn balanced the scone plate she’d just received on her knee, reached out, and picked up her instrument case. She unlatched the opening, pulling out her contract. She explained, “I’m the bard for Duke Wyldon’s party.”

“ The entertainment? ” The woman stared at Bronwynn like she’d suddenly grown two heads, then she looked between the bard and the tea trolley like she couldn’t believe she was serving a fellow staff member, and a lowly bard at that.

“Pardon our early arrival,” I said, and the attendant’s polite-but-dead-inside eyes met mine. “Minstrel Bronwynn is my queen’s greatest companion, so I, the Commander General of the Dark Lord’s army , was asked to escort her here safely.”

That had the woman stiffen and straighten to attention. Her professional smile returned, and she managed to gather her thoughts. “I will go prepare a second room, then. If you’ll excuse me.”

There was a heartbeat where we were left alone before Bronwynn burst into unrestrained laughter.

“I can’t believe you just said that!” Bronwynn exclaimed, leaning back into her chair.

“What?” I feigned ignorance and picked up my own scone, buttery with a rich garlic that smelled overly strong.

I was greeted with a very warm smile. “Seriously, though, thank you.”

“ Anytime .” I tried to hide the conviction in my voice and play it off as casual camaraderie. I’d even say I succeeded.