SWY 8

“Who?”

“Curious? You must be dying to know, since you’re so damn obsessed with me.”

“Yeah, so go ahead. Who did you run away for? Risking the possibility of losing your heirship if you didn’t come back?”

“Aww, honey, are you worried about me?”

“It’s not worry. It’s called curiosity. Who are you looking for?”

Lestel’s green eyes narrowed as he suddenly leaned in close. Sharhan nearly flinched hard enough for his heart to leap out of his chest, almost punching Lestel on instinct. But he forced himself to stay calm, waiting for Lestel to open his mouth. He was dying to know who Lestel had run away for.

But Lestel didn’t give up the answer easily. He just kept locking eyes with Sharhan, deliberately teasing him. Sharhan’s patience was wearing thin, and a crease appeared between his brows just as Lestel finally spoke.

“Let’s get out.”

“What?”

“The carriage stopped. Let’s get out.”

Lestel lightly tapped Sharhan’s cheek with the back of his hand and stepped out of the carriage, smiling. Sharhan froze for a beat, then scowled.

“You wanna die? Who the hell touches someone’s cheek like that?”

Muttering curses, he hurried out after him but didn’t get a chance to confront Lestel. A figure was rushing out of the mansion toward them, Simon. Seeing how pale Simon looked, Lestel’s expression turned serious too.

“Another seizure?”

When Lestel asked, Simon nodded. He didn’t look composed enough to speak aloud.

“Let’s go. Shan, you stay here.”

“What? I’m your bodyguard, remember? That means I’m supposed to go with you-”

“Wait here.”

Lestel’s tone was firm as he stopped Sharhan from following. Without even checking Sharhan’s scowling face, he got into another carriage with Simon and sped off. Sharhan stared blankly at the rapidly disappearing carriage, then turned away.

“Shit. What am I, some watchdog tied up outside a house?”

Wait here, my ass.

***

Maybe because he had just come from that lavish mansion, but the Blue Spider’s Goblet inn looked more run-down and shabby than usual. As he stepped inside, he spotted Abel and Ras eating. On the table in front of them was a steak, the kind Sharhan hadn’t seen in ages.

“Steak, huh? What’s the occasion?”

Sharhan slumped into the seat across from them and asked.

“We’re loaded now. They gave us thirty gold upfront.”

Abel leaned in and whispered like someone might overhear. After signing the contract, Simon had handed them a pouch as an advance payment. Back at the inn, they opened it to find thirty gold coins. The pouch had been so heavy Abel had dared to hope, but even he hadn’t expected that much. He’d counted the coins over and over, practically cheering inside.

“So that’s why you treated yourself to steak?”

“Yeah. I thought Frilla’s cooking was terrible, but turns out it’s just a matter of money. Look at this beauty. Tastes amazing too.”

Ras proudly stuffed a thick cut of meat into his mouth. Watching blood drip from the steak as Ras chewed, Sharhan frowned.

Frilla was the innkeeper. The five-copper room fee came with breakfast, some tomato stew so vile you had to wonder how someone could cook something that bad. Turns out, it wasn’t the cook’s skill but the budget that was the problem.

“What about the others?”

“Once I split the gold, they all ran off grinning like idiots. Bet they were all desperate. None of us said anything, but it’s been three months since we smelled real coin. Oh right, yours. Three gold each, and the other three go to the group fund.”

There were nine members of the Red Wolves. Three gold each came out just right. Abel handed Sharhan his share. Sharhan pocketed the coins quickly, leaned back in his chair, and grumbled.

“So everyone ran off to blow their money the second they got it.”

“Yeah, well, everyone gets stupid around money. They’ll probably just drink it away. Why the sour face though? You look like someone conned you.”

“I didn’t get conned, but I am in a shit mood.”

“Why?”

“Good question. Why do you think?”

Sharhan’s flat reply made Abel raise a brow.

“…? Why are you asking me? Wait, why are you back so soon? Wasn’t today just supposed to be greetings?”

“They had somewhere to go, and just left me behind. Figured I’d stop by.”

“They paid top coin to hire a bodyguard and then left you behind? That’s nuts. They’re paying you twenty gold, that’s basically First Rank mercenary pay. The escort contract was a regular one, but yours was a magic contract. Must be loaded, the Black Pearl merchant guild. No wonder they’re generous.”

Hiring a First Rank mercenary cost around twenty-five gold a month. Second Rank mercenaries went for about fifteen. Offering twenty gold per person to hire the Red Wolves was a strategic move Sharhan couldn’t refuse.

“Generous? It was bait. A trap to lure me in. The more I think about it, the more pissed I get. You staying here? What’s the point of binding me with a magic contract if they’re just gonna treat me like some house pet? So what, three years apart and now there are secrets I don’t know about?”

“Who are you talking about?”

“And why’d he even run away? Seriously, that crazy bastard. Won’t even tell me who he went looking for. Am I supposed to just die of frustration? Now he’s messing with my head like this? It was nice and peaceful not seeing him, but now I’m pissed all over again. I swear, I’m not made to deal with Ailun blood.”

Sharhan grumbled to himself, venting his frustrations about Lestel. No one else could rile him up like that. It had always been that way. Sharhan had gotten mad because of Lestel, cried from frustration because of Lestel, and laughed till he choked because of teasing Lestel.

“Seriously, who are you talking about?”

Sharhan didn’t answer. Abel kicked his leg under the table.

“What?”

“Who’d you meet that has you mumbling like a lunatic? Wasn’t it the head of the merchant guild?”

“The head… yeah, I met him.”

“So? Was he old or young? We made a bet earlier. I put ten copper on him being young. Everyone else said he’d be some old guy.”

Ras jumped in.

“Congrats. You just won some money.”

“He really was young? Wow. What kind of young guy ends up owning a massive guild like Black Pearl?”

While Ras muttered to himself, Abel – sharp as ever, asked

“Wait. Do you know him?”

Sharhan’s eyes widened.

“…Yeah. How did you know?”

“I’ve never seen you this worked up. You always smile, even when people talk shit about your pretty face and tell you to sell your body instead of fighting. You’d laugh while crushing their balls. But now? You’re all over the place. What’s the story?”

When Sharhan had first become a mercenary, plenty of people had looked down on him because of his pretty face and talked trash. He’d crushed their groins with a smile, and soon no one dared cross him. At least not to his face.

“We’ve hated each other since we were kids. Honestly, I’d rather punch him in the back of the head. And now I’m supposed to risk my life to protect him? This is hell.”

Sharhan let out a deep sigh, his face worn with frustration. Abel, thoughtful for a moment, made a suggestion.

“Sounds like you really hate him. Want me to send someone else instead? He’s planning to show his face anyway, so it can’t be Ras… what about Kamil? Not quite as good-looking as you, but he’s not hard to look at either.”

Sharhan imagined Kamil’s face. Five years older than Sharhan, his looks were average at best. If Lestel had gone as far as binding Sharhan with a magic contract, there was no way he’d let him out of it. But hypothetically, if Lestel suddenly lost his mind and canceled the contract–

What, Kamil would be sleeping and eating next to Lestel? Following him around everywhere because he was his guard?

Sharhan clenched his fist for no good reason and shook his head.