Moving Forward *Book 2 of The Death Market* (COMPLETE)

Entertainment

Song: Entertainment - Rise Against

I blink slowly as the Cloak's words set in. Somehow I am The Sir of The Death Market. I don't see how, I didn't kill their previous leader, that was Mihre's doing. They're not going to let me leave because of this. Harlowe and Mitsuhide are free to go if I give the order, but I'm trapped. We could fight our way through, but I know an overwhelming situation when I see one.

"How have I been named as The Sir?" I ask.

"It has been reported that you were the one who took down Sir Nerei. Whoever takes the life of the Head takes the role."

This must have been Mihre's plan to prolong our exit. "What if I don't want the role?"

"Then you die." Harlowe mumbles. "I avoid execution by escape."

"I want you and Hide to go ahead, go after Mihre. I'll be alright." I tell her as I pull her close and kiss her forehead.

"But Obi, you cannot stay."

"You heard him, The Sir can't leave." She meets my gaze and a look of understanding crosses her face. "You have to protect Iladriel above all, remember? Go keep her safe. Hide, protect them with your life."

"It's still weird to me that just two years ago she wanted our heads..." He sighs. "Just be careful."

"See you soon, Love." I whisper in her ear and she quietly tells me to be safe before pulling away. "Alright, I'll stay and accept my duties, but Mitushide and Harlowe are free to leave and will not be stopped if they choose to return."

"Yes, Sir."

The crowd parts, creating a straight path from us to the entrance of the tent. Harlowe pulls me into a quick kiss before moving to Mitsuhide's side and they both head into the tent, leaving me with my newfound leadership. I have no intention of staying here, of course, but until I can find a way to slip out of here undisturbed, likely through the secret exit near the cottage tonight, I'm stuck.

"Alright, I'm here, now what?" I sigh as I look out at the group of Cloaks.

"You have full control over The Death Market and its inhabitants. You control who comes in and out and what occurs."

"Why would I really care? As long as they don't bother me then I don't see an issue. They're mostly adults and even when my daughter was here before she handled her own."

"You can take a passive role as well Sir. You are welcome to leave the laws as are or loosen them. The records or The Death Market are stored in your cottage."

"That's convenient. I didn't really expect this place to be quite that organized." I shrug.

"Is there anything we can do for you Sir?"

"Well, there's a corpse in the cottage that could be disposed of, otherwise you're all dismissed to whatever it was you were doing before you decided to stalk us."

I arch a brow as I absently reach for the bottle of rum on the desk, wherever I'd placed it. I've kicked my boots up on the desktop and leaned back with the rather large leatherbound book containing everything there is to know about The Death Market. There's a running list of those considered residents along with their stall code, because apparently there's a code system I didn't know about, and individual pages on each leader. There are laws as well, all signed off on by the Sir or Miss who put them into effect. With each new leader, they decided whether to keep or change what the previous enacted then created their own.

I flip through the leader's information sheets and stop on Harlowe's. I don't exactly want to snoop on her entire life, though we've been opening up more and more with each other, I'm just curious about a few things, such as her birthday since she's never shared it with me. We just celebrated on the day she escaped The Market with us. There's a rather professional looking sketch of Harlowe from when she first became leader on the front page with her information sheets behind it. Whoever did it did a good job but she looks so sad. She's always been rather thin, even now, but she looks skin and bone in the portrait, her collar bones jutting out almost painfully and her face is sunken in. The artist even drew in the dark bruises surrounding her jawline and her throat where her tattoos didn't cover. I sigh and turn the page to find her swirling handwriting filling in the blanks. Sadly, I still don't know her birthday as her entry only reads: 'I do not know such thing.'. None of her answers for anything really reveal anything, other than some topics were sensitive based on her expletive-filled answers. One was her home kingdom and she simply wrote, 'why would I care to remember such horrid place?' only with a few choice words sprinkled in.

Harlowe's laws are mainly relaxed but she wrote in harsh, underlined lettering that no one even associated with a castle was allowed within The Market and all overnight visitors had to barter permission with her to stay. I remember that all too well, lying directly to the mysterious and vaguely threatening Miss as we tore apart her market in search of a sword held by a hostile eleven year old. Three years later I claim the child as my own and I want to marry Harlowe after she tried to either keep me as a pet or kill me. I certainly don't regret it but it's strange how we got from there to where we are now. Now all I have to do is escape The Market and find her and Iladriel and keep them safe. Mihre's not going to get anywhere near Ila even if it kills me.