Chapter 41
Keira
When night fell, it was slow. It sneaked up on the rigid frames of ice that was Stunngard and in its wake left tall boots buried under an ocean of snow.
The stones on the streets wore frost too dangerous to walk on and I occasionally caught Rorcan watching the people of Stunngard rush to the shelter and warmth of their homes.
He didn't speak much after the few stones I prized out of the ground. He had been to the Northern Isles, yes, but didn't seem too keen to offer up any worthful mentions.
Not that I offered up much either.
A few glasses of wonderful burning liquids later, I retired to our room, ignoring Rorcan's inquisitive brow raise.
Mooney had always lent me a room whenever I needed it here, before Al and I had managed the little shack in the woods.
The dull lit room was held up by black titanium pillars but the rest of it, dark and dusty, stood meekly; with creaking hardwood floors and walls and a rickety wrought iron bed. The white curtains hanging at the solitary window billowed softly in the wind.
I sat the edge of the bed, kicking away my rucksack to a corner.
A flash of green eyes and dark hair.
I closed my eyes.
Breathe. Forget.
The ends of my simple white gown was muddy and ruined. I ripped it off in a rage.
A sudden, frustrated rage. One that struck faster and deadlier than lightning.
The wind whistled through the cracked window. It did not stand to match the chaotic winds atop the Valdare.
The softest of knocks on the door. I tried not to appear startled.
“Would you like me to leave?”
I smiled. “There aren't many who can sneak up on me.”
Heavy yet padded footsteps told me he had chosen to come closer, sensing maybe, a moment of weakness he thought he could exploit.
I didn't want to give Rorcan the opportunity to try and probe further into my intentions so I moved quickly and caught his gaze as it moved from me to the torn piece of dirty clothing that now lay at the foot of the bed.
I moved to a plank on the floor at the farthest corner of the room, knelt and brought it up. The tiny space revealed a pair of clothes, some vials, a few daggers, etc. etc.
I could feel Rorcan's gaze on me when I took out the clothes and put my rucksack inside before kicking the plank right back in.
“Sorry I don't have your sleeping linens your majesty,” I said, cutting my gaze to him and found him leaning against the now closed door with his hands crossed.
His regal navy clothes were weathered and that paired with the perpetual frown and unruly, windswept hair made him look like a madman. But even then, face dark with an even darker gaze of emeralds, no one could deny his allure.
Especially when he gave you that very undignified smirk. However, he did not seem very amused with me.
“Why stay here?” he asked and though the question was gentle, I detected a hint of frustration.
“What's the hurry Malavek?”
I didn't face him when I started strippinh off my dirty clothes. All I heard was a sharp intake of breath.
I had always been a little too tall but not nearly tall enough to rival the Malavek brothers. And though my body was entirely very pale and lean, from the lean muscles of my abdomen, my hips widened and fell to wider thighs and longer calves.
And when the last string of my gown came loose and it fell to the floor, all I did was give the older Malavek brother a look over my shoulder, knowing what I would find.
But of course he had turned away and I smiled at how quickly words failed him.
My short hair was nothing if not a tangled mess of flaming red and I combed my fingers through them before pulling on my suit; all black and the only one I ever owned.
The tight material clung to my body, the sleeves covering my bruised knuckles. And at last, after I had slipped into my comfortable boots, I pulled two of my knife holsters; one around my back and one around my thigh.
Perhaps it was the attire, or maybe the ensemble of me that was now complete; Keira Romanova, the feared assassin that offered explanation for the dumbstruck look on Rorcan's face when his gaze landed on me.
I passed him with a flick over his shoulder and a smirk that promised trouble.
To be continued…
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