We both kind of stared at each other over the other mercenary's body. I kicked off the body moving side from the slowly rotting corpse. She eyed my restraints now freed from my grasp, probably wondering if I should be tied up again.
"You just saved my life," not quite the question or statement, but it held true.
I tried to give her a shy smile. "Maybe then you will release me then."
She seemed to think it over, but then she shook off the thought. "Nope, you're still a dangerous fugitive."
I started to protest, but then it dawned on me nothing she said was not true. I am a dangerous fugitive. I am a killer. But I was not a kidnapper. "I didn't kidnap the princess."
She turned, giving me an acquisitive look, arching an eyebrow. "We didn't take you because you took the princess. Everybody knows that she is a rebellious kid. If anything, I'm pretty sure she talked you into this."
Disbelief whips through my body. I not expect this much of the truth to go through gossip. Usually truths were bent out of shape in court life. You had to pick out lives and lies to find the truth.
Hearing from a stranger the uncensored truth of it was shocking.
She shrugged as if it's no trouble. "I don't care what sort of mess you planned before whatever coup the butcher had done." Suddenly, darkness filled her eyes, drawn in with painful memory. She shook her head as if some sort of dark memory pulled her away. "No matter what the truth is, the money for your head will give me the freedom I need."
She moves to me to change me again, but I jerk away my hands. "What if I give you a better offer?"
The mercenary stills. I take it as a confirmation to keep going. "I'm going to find the princess. She has way more money than you can imagine. She will pay for me. Help me find her."
She chuckled, and the sound scratched from the bottom of her throat. "Bullshit, no princess cares about a slave boy. No matter how much of a good fuck he is."
I try to keep my breath steady. It's not the fact that she referred to me as a sex worker. And not the fact that she doesn't believe me, just like I do, that Helena will save me, because yes, I'm bluffing. But the word: "slave boy."
I never considered the other crime I committed only hours ago. since I burned the ship full of slave traders.
She narrows her eyes, and I am quick to smooth out my expression. "Clearly hate this Myasnik, the butcher. Why give what he wants?"
I tried to seem nonchalant, my thoughts are quick to strike. She's not going to buy this.
She purses her lips and crosses her arms. "What makes you think that?"
I roll my eyes as if obvious, but I always had the gift for reading people. "The expression you had when you talked about him was one of undiluted fear, and you only get that when you're running away from something. And by the armor you're carrying around, I'm assuming that you hail from the same country he does, so I can only assume that you were a soldier in his army." She gapes at me, then closes her mouth.
She seems to go through. Every emotion she has followed up there, but she lands on frustration. She huffs, "Fine. That's a deal. She had to lift me up from the ground, and we shook hands.
------
In the hour that I spent in her company, I learned two things about the mercenary: her name and that she was a silent, brooding, grumpy person.
Eventually the silence became unbearable, and I tried to break the ice. "So where are we going?" I asked. She turned to me as I was following her. Since her strides were so much bigger than mine. She grumbled, "Almost there, you slop. I need to stop by my house to pick up supplies and information."
When she turned her body fully to my side, I filled her shadow, overflowing my presence, making me shrink into myself. "You are going to stay outside the house and not interfere, you understand?" She narrowed her eyes, nostrils flaring.
I knew there was more to this; clearly whatever was in the house was really important to her, but I wasn't going to pry, so I just kept quiet until we got there. It was smaller than I imagined, about the size of a shack. White tiles greeted the entry to the door. The house was newly painted, and I could see small chalk marks on the floor and walls. Colorful crayons lay on the grass. Clearly whoever owned this house had children.
Maron grumbled, her foot nudging the chalk to sit against the wall. She gave a gentle knock, and a grin grew on her face.
A soft voice answered, "Maron? Come in."
She opened the door, revealing a small warm space with a few toys sitting on the floor. Resting on the floor was the owner of the toys when it was nowhere to be found. A warm smell greeted my greedy nose.
I moved to the kitchen, and Maron was fast to follow me. A small woman with raven hair bent over the kitchen counter. She was carrying out a tray of hot muffins. Maron looked at me with disdain but stayed quiet. I did promise to stay outside, but I needed leverage over her.
Clearly whoever this is meant enough to her so she wouldn't reveal who I am to her or ask me to go out in front of her.
The woman with the Raven hair chafed her hands together, cleaning them. She turned fully to the both of us, but her eyes did not land on me. They landed on the woman beside me, but I could not even be concerned over that.
Her face and her eyes were so familiar, and I knew who she was immediately. I could not forget those dark eyes and full lips making into a heart shape. And that scar she got falling off a tree climbing trees with me on her shoulder.
Nyla, my sister, stood in front of me after I hadn't seen her in over 10 years.
She strode to Moraine, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "I missed you, honey." She looked at me as if I was a stranger. "And who are you?"
I could not stop the tears burning into my eyes. I slapped a hand over my mouth to stop the awful sob ripping through me. Nyla frowned, not understanding. Moraine looked for the very first time concerned for me.
"Nyla, is that you?"
The frown on her brow prickled in concentration, still not understanding who I am and why I know her name. "It's me. It's Taji, your big brother, do you remember me?"
Maron's eyes bounce from me to my little sister, who starting to understand exactly what's happening. She's crying just like me. "Taj?"
I nod my head, not able to have the words come out of my mouth. I hug her in a bear hug, crushing the both of us in the embrace.