Chapter 7

KNOT

Back in town again,only a short time after my last trip, I departed The Bluebird Inn in a lighter mood than I’d felt upon arrival. As much as I thought I wanted to be left alone, there was a certain appeal to being around others and making myself useful.

I spent the morning helping Parcos Glade and his son work on a woodshed. Parcos and his son had built my cabin shortly after I struck it rich on my claim. It still amazed me that they’d built such a large and sturdy cabin in less than a fortnight. I’d assisted, of course, but the two humans were highly skilled in their trade and had done most of the work.

Mrs. Glade insisted I join them for lunch, and I sat at the table in absolute awe of the family. We laughed and talked over a delicious meal—me, the Glade couple, their three daughters, and one son. A sense of peace settled over me when I was surrounded by such love and devotion. It was then that I wondered if perhaps the gods were trying to reach me.

Maybe this was what I wanted. Maybe it was what I needed.

A family.

I would be lying if I claimed there weren’t times when I thought I might be able to move on and start my life anew. To truly start my life anew. My move to the mountains of Black Dragon Island to live in isolation far away from my friends and family in the Northern Isles didn’t count.

I closed my eyes and imagined my wife—not Emalise, but a vague image of an unknown female—cooking at the stove while our daughters helped set the table. I’d just arrived home with my young sons from a day spent panning for gold. I wouldn’t take them hardrock mining until they were a bit older. Not that we needed the money, but as a good father, I planned to teach them the value of hard work. My anger toward the gods long gone, I would say a blessing and then we would eat. Night would come and find us all tucked in our beds. Warm and safe. Loved.

Suddenly, the woman’s features became clearer, and I nearly gasped.

It was Natalee.

“Knot? You still with us?”

I shook the daydream away and focused on the question I’d half heard Parcos ask. Something about my plans for staying in town?

Clearing my throat, I leaned forward and said, “Well, I might stay for a few more days. Between your cooking, Mrs. Glade, and the soft beds at The Bluebird Inn, it’ll be difficult to leave Faircross.”

Mrs. Glade blushed at the compliment.

After lunch, I helped Parcos install a new window on a house located at the edge of town. It didn’t take long, and I soon found myself alone with no plans just before suppertime. I declined an invitation to dine with the Glades again, my thoughts on The Sweet Siren. The place had a cheery atmosphere, and the food was scrumptious. I found the wine more than decent, too. Last night I’d enjoyed a few glasses while talking with the miners who happened to join me at the bar, though the other males mostly drank whiskey.

I couldn’t deny it. Being around people helped hold the darkness at bay. Alone in my cabin, all I could think about was Emalise and feel sorry for myself. Perhaps it was time I stopped.

Taking a deep breath, I traversed between the carriages and people strolling down the main street on my way to the tavern. Two sirens looked up from serving drinks and smiled as I walked in. I headed straight for the bar and took a seat on the end. The human siren I’d learned was named Floura winked at me and reached for a wine glass.

“More of the red stuff?” she asked with an impish grin.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She giggled. “Have any more messages from Dalton?”

“Nothing I feel comfortable repeating.”

“Hm. You planning on going upstairs tonight, priest?” She laughed. “If you are, might I recommend myself? I haven’t been with a priest since I left the Northern Isle of Glasstros.” She waggled her eyebrows and leaned down as she passed over the wine, providing me with an ample view of her generous bosom. “I have some very wicked things to confess, some very naughty things I ought to be punished for.”

I didn’t know how to answer. Had I so completely lost my senses that her offer had me considering what it might be like to join with a female? I wasn’t a priest anymore. I was just a male. A male who had needs just like all the other males who were here enjoying all The Sweet Siren had to offer.

Not for the first time today, Natalee’s pretty face flashed in my mind.

Why couldn’t I stop thinking about her?

Feeling myself flush with my thoughts, I mumbled a vague response to Floura and took a sip of wine. A male seated nearby looked at his glass and chuckled, then downed a double shot of whiskey and ordered another. I liked the taste of whiskey but didn’t want a repeat of my last experience with the strong liquid, so I drank my wine and glanced over my shoulder at the stage in the main room. As the man on piano started a new tune, three sirens shimmied around on stage, occasionally lifting their gowns and petticoats to flash their stocking-clad legs and even a few inches of bare thigh.

A familiar face floating through the crowd suddenly caught my attention. I stared at the young female with gold-streaked auburn hair, instantly recognizing the beautiful woman I’d enjoyed a picnic with during my last trip to town. Mrs. Natalee Oakbees, who was recently widowed. I’d thought about her often, but I’d been absent long enough that I’d assumed she had already gotten married. Pretty young women didn’t stay single for long in a town like Faircross.

What was she doing here? The last time we’d spoken, she was staying with the Foxthornes. Surely she couldn’t still be living with them if she was working here. I doubted the prudish Mrs. Foxthorne would allow it. Furthermore, if she had gotten married, as I’d assumed, no sane male would allow his wife to work at The Sweet Siren either.

I observed as Natalee moved gracefully through the crowd, serving drinks. She disappeared for a few minutes and returned with two steaming plates of food, which she placed in front of two fae males seated at one of the larger tables against a wall. Her hair was piled in an elegant updo, with curls falling around her face. She smiled now and then at the patrons, but she didn’t do anything overly flirtatious. In fact, though her dress was low cut, her breasts weren’t spilling out like most of the other females who worked here.

Gods, she was even more breathtakingly gorgeous than I remembered.

When she looked up from talking to one of the sirens, our eyes met from across the crowded room. Her face paled, and she immediately turned and bolted for what I assumed was the kitchen area.

Ignoring Floura’s question about whether I wished for another drink, I quit the bar and crossed to where Natalee had disappeared. I made to walk into the kitchen, but a tall half-orc female stepped in my path.

“Out! Shoo!” She glared at me with her hands on her hips. “No patrons in my kitchen. Shoo! Don’t make me call Trevonn. He’ll crush your kneecaps with one good kick from his hooves. Seen ’em do it over a dozen times, I have. Last week, he made a grown fae male cry.”

“Wait. Please, I’m looking for a female. Natalee. Mrs. Natalee Oakbees. I saw her come back here.” I tried to peer around the cook, but she rose on her toes and blocked my sight with her huge shoulder.

“I suggest you turn around and go back the way you came.” She arched an eyebrow at me, and even though I stood much taller than her, she didn’t seem bothered by our difference in size. Not that I had any intention of attacking the overprotective cook.

“It’s fine, Lottie.” Natalee suddenly appeared at the female’s side. “I’ll talk to him.”

Lottie put her hands up in exacerbation and waved a spoon around. “Fine, you can talk in here, but know that I’ll have no funny business in my kitchen.” She walked to the stove and commenced stirring something in a large pot, and the aroma that escaped made my mouth water.

I looked at Natalee. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Well, here I am. This happens to be where I live and work now.”

“Yes, Natalee, but you don’t seem like the type of female to be working in a brothel. Has something happened? What about the Foxthornes?”

A haunted look crossed her face, and she lowered her head for a moment. When she glanced up again, she said, “Nothing happened. I just couldn’t take the Foxthornes’ charity anymore. It’s time I earn my own keep.”

“Yes, but here?”

She lifted her chin and her eyes flashed. “Need I remind you that you are standing in the same building as I am right now? Come to scratch an itch, priest?” The moment she said it, her face flushed. Lottie snickered at the stove.

“I came for a drink.”

“Oh, really? Just a drink?” She put her hands on her hips. “I don’t need your or anyone else’s judgment, Priest Thazurok.”

I flinched. “I’m not a priest anymore and I’ll never be one again. You know that, Natalee.” I’d thought we made a connection during our picnic, but maybe I was mistaken. She seemed awfully defensive at the moment, but damn if I didn’t want to help her.

“You can’t work here, Natalee.” I crossed my arms and glared at her. “Now tell me what happened with the Foxthornes.”

She rolled her eyes, and I had the sudden impulse to toss her over my knee, lift up her skirts, and spank her bare little bottom.

“Natalee, if you need money or a place to stay…”

“Don’t,” she said, putting up a hand. “I’m already working here. The damage to my reputation is done, so I might as well stay. I don’t plan on working here forever, Knot, but for now, this is where I’m meant to be. It’s where I need to be.”

I found myself at a loss for words. How could she seriously believe she was meant to work in a brothel? I noticed she wasn’t wearing an oceanstone necklace and therefore wasn’t working upstairs, but it was true that just by working at The Sweet Siren, it didn’t do her reputation any favors. The last time I’d spoken to her, she had mentioned Mrs. Foxthorne was pressuring her to marry soon.

Something had happened with the Foxthornes and I wanted to uncover the truth. Sweet young widows didn’t suddenly wake up one day and decide to work in a brothel, even if they were just serving drinks.

“I don’t owe you any explanation about why I’m here, Knot.”

“Natalee, I’m worried about you. Listen, if you need any help, I’ll be in town for a few more days. I’m staying at The Bluebird Inn.”

“Thank you, Knot, but I’ll be fine. Madame Sage and all the sirens have been very kind to me.”

“Oh sure, don’t even mention poor old Lottie,” came a voice from the stove.

“And Lottie has been especially kind to me,” Natalee said, raising her voice so the eavesdropping cook could clearly hear every word.

I forced a smile as I gazed at her, though an aching sadness filled me. I sensed something very bad had happened to Natalee, but I couldn’t force her to confide in me or accept my help.

We said goodbye to one another, and I returned to my place at the bar. A man sat next to me and immediately started going on about the new human girl with the blue eyes. My hands curled into fists, and Floura gave me an odd look when she refilled my wine.

“Her name’s Julianne,” the man said. “But she isn’t going upstairs yet. She told me perhaps next week, to come see her then. Pretty little thing. Ooooweee. Shy, too. I like me the shy ones.” Spittle flew from his mouth when he gave a bawdy laugh. “They sure blush hard when you first pull out your cock.” He laughed harder.

Julianne. Gods, that must be Natalee’s siren name. Fucking starfires.

Rage filled me, and my stool fell to the floor when I stood up too quickly. I grabbed the man by his collar and gave him a harsh shake. “You’ll stay away from her, that’s what you’ll do!” I bellowed.

“Is there a problem here?” asked a tall minotaur who appeared out of nowhere. The guard’s horns were so huge they nearly reached the ceiling.

“No problem at all, Trevonn. My orc friend here was just leaving. Weren’t you?”

I took a deep breath and released the male. I didn’t want to do anything foolish to get myself thrown out of The Sweet Siren, because I needed to be able to return whenever I wished. And I wished to return.

Next week. When Natalee was taking customers.

Gods, I couldn’t believe she was actually going to start taking customers. I raged inside that she hadn’t offered up that bit of information during our brief conversation, but I suspected if I returned to the kitchen and tried to talk some sense into her, a fiery argument would ensue, and the large minotaur would attempt to physically remove me from the tavern.

As I moved toward the exit, a white-hot burst of anger filled me at the thought of another male lying with Natalee. She was a genteel female who’d simply fallen on hard times. I felt a connection to her when I gazed into her pretty blue eyes. I ached to draw my fingers through her silken curls, and by the gods, I ached to make her mine.

My need for her and my recent discovery that I was indeed ready to take a new wife consumed me. Why had I stubbornly returned to my cabin the day after our picnic? Why hadn’t I remained in town so I could call upon her again? If I’d stuck around, maybe she would have trusted me enough to confide in me with her troubles. Whatever those troubles were that had resulted in her working in a brothel of all places.

I returned to The Bluebird Inn, a plan forming in my mind.

Natalee would belong to me.