"Curiosity is a double-edged sword, both beautiful, and deadly. There's no telling which side you'll get."
A night of innocent exploration turns lethal as Sorcha's sister is captured by human sailors. In her search, Sorcha rescues one of the humans...
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Gendry's brow appeared permanently furrowed, and while his body remained seated on the velvet settee beside Sorcha, his mind was far away. He'd withdrawn from the conversation in a steady decline of contributions. Neither woman could blame him. He was processing the truth Nour revealed. Tobho Mott was not the monster Gendry's younger self had painted him out to be. He hadn't cast his apprentice aside like a lump of coal. Tobho was the only father Gendry had ever known, and for so long, he thought himself a fool for trusting the man. In reality, Tobho had never stopped caring for him, and what Gendry perceived as a slight was an act of love.
"Have you managed to find lodgings in the city?" Nour asked over her goblet of wine. The deep charcoal smudges along her eyelids and waterline made the action seem more severe than it was. Gendry didn't respond, and Sorcha shifted forward in her seat, placing her clasped hands atop her lap. The skirt of her dress had ridden up to mid-calf as she sat, far from a well-fitting gown.
"No, not yet." Sorcha examined Gendry's face in her periphery. It was pulled taut with worry, his gaze fixated on the cracks in the floorboard without seeing them. "We came straight from our ship to find you." Nour frowned, glancing towards the window thoughtfully. She tilted her head to the side and sucked in a breath through her teeth with a hiss.
"The inns are fully booked. Every lord, lady, and their servants are traveling across the whole of Westeros to see the happy couple wed." The words, 'happy couple', were spat as if her wine had turned to vinegar. Nour shook her head pityingly. "I'd let you both stay here, but Lord Baelish would have my head if he found out I let a man stay in the brothel without paying his dues." Sorcha played with her fingers resting in her lap, hoping that Gendry would jump back into the conversation before she said something to get them into trouble. He'd specifically instructed her not to speak unless necessary. She thought she was handling herself rather well, considering she'd never been on land before. It had been good practice to speak with the sailors aboard The Aurora, but they weren't exactly the picture of civility.
