The Winter Sun

Chapter 35

The King Hook had an upper floor with rooms for travellers. Kristina brought them there from a back entrance, avoiding another round of snarls from the patrons. The room was dimly lit by a few candles and the cricking of flames of a fireplace, its warmth a sweet welcome on their cold skin.

A bed leaned against the far end wall, and a massive deep-brown wooden desk overlooked the room. A few papers and books were scattered on it, which Kristina pushed aside as she dropped on the old but bulky leather chair.

Her boots thudded on the wood, their soles facing a perplexed Lach.

"I saw you guys at the tavern earlier. It was quite the entertaining spectacle." A glass bottle twirled in her black-painted fingers, foaming the gold liquid at the top.

Lach's eyebrows furrowed, ignoring the intended insult. "Why were you with Amaya? What happened to her?" The moment he saw Kristina with Amaya, something bolted into him.

Kristina's hat darkened her eyes. "Do you think I hurt her?"

"Just answer the question."

As on cue, Amaya moved next to him, but his shoulders stayed uptight. "Some men tried to get me, but she was the one to stop them. She saved me." It didn't loosen his jaw.

Kristina pulled her legs down, leaning forward. "She was going to get abducted by a marine gang." Her gaze was pointy, full of hooks for Lach to grab when she wanted him to swallow one of her lies. "That's what happened."

"Without Kristina, I wouldn't be here," Amaya said, and Lach found her gaze, and he knew it was the truth. She turned to Kristina. "Thank you again."

"You're welcome, beauty." An overstretched smile showed the gold of Kristina's teeth before she took a gulp of her bottle. Bett dropped on a chair near the fireplace, their eyes fixed on Kristina's shipmate hovering over the door like an eagle ready to attack. "And who's that." Kristina pointed a loose-painted finger at them.

"That's Bett," Lach said, tone like a bite.

Kristina laughed. It's acute with a touch of gravel, festering something beneath Lach's skin like a decaying tooth that he would like to snatch away. "Relax, Lach. Aren't you happy to see me?"

"Absolutely not."

Amaya's eyes darted between them both, and something flickered. "Do you know each other?" Lach breathed in.

"I am a longtime...friend of Lach," she gave him a knowing gaze, twirling her bottle.

Lach's eyes were like the hollowness of the void, offering nothing. "Something like that," he said.

"Then-" Amaya started, heading to the desk when she stopped and wince. She stumbled backward, but before she could lose her balance totally, her waist was grabbed.

Lach's worried gaze cast on her. "Are you hurt?"

"It's just- her words faltered, her eyes lingering away. "The pain of my ankle has woken up, but I am fine." They hadn't talked about the argument, and the harshness of his words was still vivid and raw.

The glass clanked. Kristina's bottle rattled against the wood. There was a wrinkle on her mouth that was apparent discontent. Amaya detached from Lach, and his hand stayed spread and open even after she was long gone. "My shipmate will take care of it." Kristina nodded to the woman near the door, the eagle, and she led Amaya to sit on the bed before fetching a bowl of concoction that bloomed with lavender oil, salt, and vinegar. When Amaya removed her boot, her bruise was a alive purple, and Amaya hissed at the first touch of Kristina's shipmate's hands on her. Lach's hand balled into his fists. Whoever had wanted to take her was someone who knew about her. They were no longer safe outside. Though they never were.