Avarice | Sample 10 Chapters

A v a r i c e | S e v e n

S e v e n

❝A woman knits a fine cloak;

she waits for one young folk.❞

IAN WAS NOT A DIFFICULT MAN to find. In fact, I found out who he was even before we left the castle by overhearing a conversation between Oliver Ackerman, Marquis Trill, and Father. The meeting was over, but they were still talking about it when Mother and I went to pick up Father to leave. We had waited patiently beside them, pretending that we weren't listening to their conversation. I was certain even Mother was listening.

Ian was the Irishman, the lycanthrope hunter, who spoke at Lydia's death site.

That much was clear.

However, I still wasn't sure where he lived, much less how to get there.

Remembering his speech, I knew he had said he lived in a cabin rather than a house, so I could instantly judge out the place where I lived and anywhere near the castle. He had to live more on the outskirts, or in the forest.

I was betting on the latter.

So, early in the morning - after eating breakfast, of course - I left my house to visit a place I was sure to run into someone who knew where Ian lived: the tavern.

Even during the sunrise the bar was alive with people wandering through town and drunkards. The bar almost never shut down. It never lost customers. Today was no exception to that. I walked into the tavern and looked around for someone who looked semi-approachable. Oliver Ackerman, unfortunately - or, perhaps, fortunately in his case - was nowhere to be seen.

Neither was Marquise Trill, I duly noted.

"May I get you anything to drink, milady?" The man behind the bar asked. He looked like a savage, a pirate. He was even missing a couple teeth.

I shook my head. "I am alright, thank you," I smiled tightly at him. "I need directions, actually."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh? To where?"

"I am looking for the cabin where Ian lives." I figured he would know Ian by just the first name. Well, I hoped. I didn't know about a title or last name.

A few people around us stopped talking and looked over. My cheeks heated up and I refused to look back at them out of pride. The man behind the bar's eyebrow raised even higher than before. He leaned over the counter and whispered slowly, "And what does a pretty lady like you want with a man like him?"

I raised my chin high. "I wish to have a talk. Will you please give me the directions?"

He pulled back, staring at me in an intimidating manner. Normally I would fidget under this gaze, but I knew if I did he wouldn't provide me with what I needed. I stared right back at him. Finally, my tactic worked and he broke and gave me the directions to Ian's cabin. Just as I had thought, he lived in the woods, but not too far in.

Following the man's guidance, I found myself in front of an old cabin that almost looked gray. It wasn't nearly as nice as Grandmother Lilith's, but Lilith seemed like someone who enjoyed tidying up their living space, so this wasn't surprising.

Calmly - even though my insides were trembling - I walked up to the door of the cottage and knocked. No one came at first, so I knocked again. And again. And again. And a-

The door opened.

The Irishman squinted down at me. Up close he was so much taller, more than a foot above me I was certain. "What do you want?"