Kings Game

Chapter 65 - An Excuse

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Kell threw back the glass of brandy in a single gulp. She was on her fourth glass and each one tasted worse than the last. Normally she liked brandy. Her brief stay in Uhlara had brought back memories of stealing sips of her father's brandy while he worked in his office. He'd pretended not to notice while she clumsily slipped the glass off his desk, took the tiniest of sips, then replaced it, doing her best not to make a sound.

Her father had seemed so large back then. His shoulders sturdy as he hunched over his desk, reading missives and writing letters. She'd stay with him late into the night, listening to the fire crackle and reading her books. Sometimes they were texts meant to further her studies, other times they were the fictional stories that her mother abhorred. They were stories of excitement and adventure, stories of travel and discovery. All things that little Kellsinora had thought nigh impossible for someone like her.

Kell slammed the glass back down on the bar and a hiccup shook her body.

"Fucking Aunt Gyllian," she muttered and poured herself another glass.

The bartender was keeping an eye on her but didn't do anything to intervene. She'd paid him twice for the bottle. Once for the liquor inside and once again for him to leave her alone and let her do the pouring.

If her aunt hadn't tried to ransom her back to her own family, she'd have grown up to be some pompous lady serving the court of Uhlara, drinking the finest brandy from crystal glasses, worrying about the details of her company's production output, and blatantly ignoring whatever husband her parents had saddled her with. She probably would have hated it.

Instead, she was sitting in a bar, alone, and attempting to drink away the shame of being absolutely humiliated in a low level bout by a couple of fresh titles. She was battered, bruised, missing a hand, and she hated it.

"Cursed in the mountains or cursed in the arena."

Kell took a long pull from her glass, the rough edge catching on her lip. Setting the glass back down, she tried to think of any way her life might have turned out happy. What change, if any, could have prevented her from ending up miserable and unhappy. She could think of only one.

"If only I'd never been born."

Maybe she was being too optimistic thinking anyone was allowed to live a happy life. You were born, handed your lot, and expected to make the best of it. The only way to avoid the misery of a bad hand was to not play the game at all.

Kell reached for the bottle. Her glass wasn't empty but she wasn't ready to drink from it again and she needed something to do with her hand. Singular, as in only one. They were supposed to come in a pair but-

Someone tapped Kell on the shoulder. Kell glanced over and found herself staring at the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen. She had dark hair cropped at her shoulders, beautiful eyes that shined so brightly they made the world around her seem dim, and wore an elegant dress of darkly colored silks that hung from her like sheets of the night sky.

Kell grinned. "Well hello. What's a pretty little thing like you doing in a dump like this?"

The woman raised an eyebrow. "I was hoping to find a strong Champion that might like to come home with me."

"Ah," said Kell, "I thought that might be the case. I'm afraid I can't afford to go home with someone as beautiful as you."

"What if I simply wanted the pleasure of your company?"

"I would still have to decline, I am a married woman. My wife is my shining star, my guiding light, and the temptress of my dreams. I couldn't imagine doing anything without her knowledge or consent."