CHAPTER 66 It All Made Sense Now

CHAPTER 66

It All Made Sense Now

Brownie

It all made sense now.

Something that had been weighing on Brownie’s mind for most of their journey, the unease and frustration, and a few restless nights. She ignored the various people sitting around them who’d turned to stare at her outburst. This was more important.

“You were my first encounter!” she accused Rufus. Seeing the shame and embarrassment that played across the beastman’s face revealed something even worse. “ And you knew? ”

“I did …” he confessed. “I realized that night at the inn, and I didn’t tell you because, well, for obvious reasons, I suppose.”

Brownie dropped her head into her hands and groaned. “All this time. I’ve been wondering all this time, and it was you .”

“I’m sorry,” Rufus offered. He’d been apologizing a lot recently. They both had. Rufus was a polite, common sense, and logically based beastman—who’d been stalking her. Her . The leader of the Dark Lord’s army was following her around because …

She took in the sight of him. Rufus always had an air about him that was calm and relaxed without giving much away … and it was complete rubbish. She could tell. She could always tell. Sure, he looked fine, but his tail was curled up under his chair, his claws were in, and his eyes— his eyes were guilty .

“You’re not just protecting me—you’re spying on me!” She stood up from the realization, then sat back down again, glancing around to see if anyone had paid attention to her outburst.

Everyone had .

Rufus sighed, but it wasn’t from impatience. He was taking a deep breath to steady himself. “Yes. I was stalking and spying on you, but on orders. I would never—”

He trailed off, and an unease crawled up on Brownie. She felt more nervous from that one cutoff sentence than the first time they’d met when she’d walked into the Dark Lord’s keep to get captured just to see if Henrietta was alright.

“I’m assuming it had something to do with your quest … Did you think I was the molten ash vane assassin? Did … Did Henrietta?”

Rufus nodded, and Brownie reached for her glass. She finished the water in one gulp, and then forgot herself in the moment, bringing it down too hard on the table with a loud thunk. Controlling her body had been a constant awareness her entire life. She’d been born with +5 Strength from her Half Giantess title, and was naturally bigger and stronger than her peers; a lifetime had taught her to be careful around handling objects.

It was actually the reason she’d become enamored with music so early. If she properly controlled her grip and her hands, then she could produce beautiful sounds. Her mother loved to sing, and some of Brownie’s fondest memories were of singing and playing with her family as a child.

Still, she wasn’t told every day that the beastman she’d been slowly falling for was actually stalking her to uncover if she was an assassin. An illegal assassin at that! She was lucky the cup didn’t outright shatter into a million pieces when she put it down … it just splintered a little.

Rufus waited for her. He was always waiting for her. She wondered for just a second if the patience she knew and loved was actually an order … but no. When she saw the worry lines on his brow and the concern in his eyes, she knew he was being considerate.

He wasn’t supposed to tell her any of this.

“And now?”

“ Technically ,” Rufus said, “ I didn’t think you were the assassin, and neither did Her Viciousness. I was sent to prove that. And to keep you safe in Servalt.”

“Excuse me,” a foxkin waitress appeared at Brownie’s shoulder, her lips smiling but her eyes not. “May I take your cup?”

Brownie blushed and nodded. “My apologies. I’ll pay for a replacement.”

The waitress relaxed. “May I get you a fresh drink?”

Brownie looked at Rufus, then back to the waitress. “A bottle of Yorik’s Bimbleberry Mead. To share.”

The waitress hesitated, probably uncomfortable with bringing them such a drink when Brownie had already shown she was upset. Yorik was a renowned brewer in Peldeep famous for one thing: his liquor could knock out a Master class warrior with Strength sixty. It tasted divine, like dewdrop sun-kissed bimbleberries on a midmorning in late spring, and Brownie wanted a bottle to share between them. The bard flashed a silver coin from her storage, twiddling it between her fingers.

“Of course, miss.” The foxkin pocketed the bribe and hurried away.

“That’s a rare vintage,” Rufus idly remarked.

Brownie shot him a look. “After the night I’ve been having? It’s just the thing.”

This trip was burning through her pocket money faster than usual, but she had plenty to spare. Recently, she’d had a number of wealthy patrons who made contributions to her travels, but she was usually more frugal and restrained.

Today was not that day.

The dishes were cleared from their table, and a bottle of shimmering purple bimbleberry mead glistened in the magical lamplight. The server had brought two glasses for the wine, two glasses of water, and a dessert menu.

A few minutes later, the bottle had aired nicely, and they had two small lavender scones for dessert—compliments of Rufus.

“Rufus,” Brownie started by pouring a glass for her crush and then one for herself.

“… Yes?” The beastman hesitated but picked up his glass and returned her mock toast.

The bard looked Rufus in the eyes before downing the entire glass of mead. Then she gently placed her glass down, moved her elbows onto the table, and rested her chin on her now interlaced fingers.

“Let’s play a game.”