The Cursed Deal ✓

Chapter 27

Faine twisted the golden ring on her middle finger. Two weeks after solving the first mission and she'd finally received what belonged to her. To wear such an emblem, to declare herself a part of Silver Willow, it was a nightmare she never thought would come true. In all walks of life, she longed to avoid a place that held so many memories of a past relationship. Zebulon knew exactly where to strike.

The ring fit her finger perfectly and her skin tugged when she spun it, over and over again to get the feel of having such a treasure. Men and women that carried the piece of jewelry were killed for having it in their possession alone. Crime guilds, the Echo Market, or anyone in league of killing those with stature were the opposers that Faine had to look out for.

From where she stood, underneath the shade of a large pine tree, Faine watched Ilian and Ginevra go through the motions of sword fighting. They had two very different strengths, Ilian worked in ways of overcoming his opponent, and Ginevra did whatever she could to undermine those that wished to overrule her. Complete opposites, clashing as one.

Ginevra was swifter than Faine thought she'd be. Once wearing something other than a fine gown with her hair pinned back, golden cuffs protecting her pointed ears, she was hard to detect. Like a cat which made sense for her kind.

But it didn't matter how quick or swift she was. They'd fought too many times to not know what the other planned. Every attack Ilian made, she blocked; every attack by Ginevra, in return, he blocked. Neither of them actually got a strike across and it wasn't at the fault of their own—their skills were merely too advanced for such an opponent. Techniques lasted through minutes of the fight and finally, Ilian dropped low, underneath the sword aiming for his head, and took out Ginevra's ankles.

She fell to the grass, landing on her butt, and stuck out her bottom lip in disappointment. Faine was too far away to hear what he said to her when he extended his gloved hand down, but it didn't make her feel any better. This had been the routine over the last two weeks, shadowing Ilian and watching him flirt with Ginevra to the point it was suffocating. They clearly had something special, but both were too afraid to admit it.

Faine was learning, by herself, everything about Silver Willow. Their routines, the strongest, the weakest, the stealthiest, and the most dangerous. Eliphas was at the top of the list, and whether it was Faine's mind playing tricks on her or an actual occurrence, but the floorboards near her door always creaked. Someone walked by her room every night, at least she believed. The dagger hugged close to her chest and the now-open passageway between her room and Ilian's was her only protection.

It had taken her a week to remove the wedges in the back door of the armoire. Ilian deemed himself trustworthy after the only time he bothered her was to remind her of working in the kitchens with Ametrine. She did that faithfully every morning and completed small missions with Ilian and Ginevra in Olhathas. Nothing of importance and no more encounters with Tyvni; Faine was beginning to wonder what was happening at Rising Eternity. Most importantly, she needed to find a way to get back without being suspicious.

All in due time.

Ilian cupped a hand around his mouth. "Your turn!" he shouted towards her. This, after all, had been why she ventured outside. There was nothing to do in her room and Ametrine was too busy with her own missions to bother with friendship beyond the kitchen walls. Faine wasn't versed on being so...bored and alone.

"I'll warn you; he's in rare form today," Ginevra grumbled. She extended out her sword towards Faine, but she shook her head.

"I have weapons already," she said.

Both of them looked at her quizzingly. A sword didn't hang from her hip, a dagger wasn't strapped to her belt, no knives clung to the inside compartments of her knee-high boots. They waited, holding their breath until she flicked both wrists and revealed the hidden weapons in her bracers. Twisting her wrists back and forth, she held them up to the sunlight breaking through the trees.