A Dance of Dragons: Series Starter Bundle (17 page)

Rhen

~ Roninhythe ~

Priceless.

That was the only way to describe Jin's face
when they walked in, Martha doing exactly what Rhen had expected of
her. She couldn’t resist goading a young boy on, couldn't resist
the attention.

As another chuckle poured from his lips at
the mere memory, Rhen wished he could relive the scene again—just
once—maybe twice.

But, he remembered, looking at Jin in the
center of the tavern, arms still crossed awkwardly over his chest,
face still glowing red—there was more fun to be had.

"Sit down," he announced loudly, starting to
play up the role of the womanizing prince—his usual fallback,
especially in this tavern.

Jin looked at him with utter confusion, so
taking charge, Rhen pushed him over toward a booth where the boy
sat down stiffly, still not uncrossing his arms.

"Relax, Jin, these women aren't here to
bite," Rhen said, slightly caring and slightly goading. The boy's
eyes sparked, almost taking him up on the challenge, but then
softened.

Breasts interrupted Rhen's eyesight, filling
his vision.
Good old Martha
, he thought,
always putting
the goods on display
. She was older than most of the women in
the tavern, but she made up for it by pulling her corset the lowest
and proudly displaying her ample bosom.

"Maybe he's never kissed a girl," she said,
her voice high pitched and airy, at least until she had a few ales
in her and then it would drop a few octaves, the ladylike persona
gone. Rhen had even heard her belch before, alongside the men, no
shame—just the way he liked a girl. Unafraid. Real.

Thinking of ale, Rhen reached out, grasping
his cup and taking a long, full gulp. Damn, it tasted good. He'd
been far too long in the forest.

"Cheers," he said, lifting the cup. Jin
paused for a moment, unsure, then followed suit, clanking his glass
against Rhen's. He took a sip, winced, and then grinned. "Be
careful," Rhen warned, "if you're not used to it, that drink will
go right to your head." Jin would most assuredly be an entertaining
drunk, but Rhen needed a few things to look forward to on the
journey ahead.

Jin nodded, eyes bulging as Martha came back
boasting a cup of her own and sat next to him on the booth. Rhen
picked his ale up, hiding his smile behind a large gulp.

"Have you? Kissed a girl?" Martha asked,
leaning forward and closer.

Rhen watched a blush creep up Jin's dark
cheeks, turning his skin a rosy copper as his gaze flashed back and
forth between the view before his eyes and the foamy rim of his
glass.

Jin just shook his head.

Rhen paused—he could intervene, save the
boy—but why?

Martha pressed forward, figuratively and
literally, asking, "You've never had a sweetheart?"

Another shake, but this time a shadow fell
over Jin's eyes, a darkness crept into his expression. The blush
was pushed aside by an ashen hue and his eyes fell to his cup, not
looking anywhere else in the room.

Rhen's brows closed together as worry
clenched his heart. If Jin had a sweetheart, she was dead now,
along with the rest of his people. A memory was playing in the
boy's head, flashing behind eyes that had grown distant, and Rhen
couldn’t help but feel sorry, feel hurt himself watching the pain
pierce his new friend's entire being.

Just as he was about to speak up, about to
intervene, another voice entered the conversation, and Rhen turned
just in time to open his arms for the female that landed in his
lap.

"Who's never had a sweetheart?"

"Reana," he said, remembering her name and
nodding his head in greeting. She was new; a petite blond Martha
had recently found and pulled from the streets. He saw her not two
weeks ago when he first arrived in Roninhythe, and already he
noticed the change. Her clothes were tighter, her cheeks had been
rouged, her appearance fake like the others. But still, it felt
nice to have a warm body on his lap, a skinny waist to wrap his arm
around, even if just for a few hours.

"Surely not our Prince Whylrhen," she cooed,
leaning in closer to his body, not providing quite the same view as
Martha. "That poor innkeeper's daughter. Her reputation will never
be the same. We heard her father tried to chase you from the city!"
She drew a hand flat against her chest in mock distress. Rhen saw
Martha's eyes narrow, annoyed that she was no longer the main
attraction. "Is that why you came to the Staggering Vixen, instead
of the castle?"

Rhen laughed loudly, adding, "Now why would
I go to the castle when I have everything I need right here?" He
lifted his glass and gripped her waist tighter, earning a soft
giggle as she snuggled closer to his body.

Martha jumped in, bringing Jin back into the
center of conversation, but Rhen's mind wandered elsewhere.
Cal
better have dropped off the gold
, he thought, making a note to
bring it up when he saw him later. He hoped the poor girl wasn't
ruined for life. He had needed a reason to leave the city, a reason
to move so suddenly and so urgently, but the last thing he
wanted…

Ugh
, he sighed, leaning back in the
wooden booth. According to the rumors, he had ruined many a girl
along the path of the Great Road. If he even spoke to a woman, the
gossip began and a mere conversation would be turned into an affair
before the sun fell. It was one reason Cal kept his very proper
sister very far away from Rhen.

But there was no better way to sneak around
castles and the town at night, no better cover than the story other
people would create. If he was caught wandering the streets, it was
brushed off as Rhen going after another conquest—not Rhen, looking
for information, spying on other lords, working under the cover of
darkness. That was a weapon he couldn't afford to lose.

And he knew it.

It was also a weapon he would deploy
tonight, he knew, hugging Reana closer to his body, feeling her
limbs buzz with excitement as she cast a sidelong glance in his
direction, a coy smile plastered on her lips.

He'd chosen her.

Just not for the reason she thought.

The noise around them had grown, Rhen
realized, casting a glance around the filling tavern. Night must
have fallen. The more stars in the sky, the more men in the
tavern—it was just how these things worked. More girls had come out
of the woodwork, serving drinks and providing some much needed
companionship.

He looked to Jin, whose face was brighter,
full of life and laughter. What conversation had he missed while
his mind wandered?

Tuning back in, Rhen caught the word
snore
roll from Martha's lips as she clasped a hand over her
mirthful mouth.

"Snore?" Rhen echoed, rejoining his group,
but all three of his companions burst into fits of laughter,
leaving him the odd one out once again. "What?" he asked, looking
at each of their faces, but none of them could pause long enough to
breathe let alone clue him in.

"I must say," Reana finally spoke,
sputtering between gasping breaths, "I've heard many rumors about
what our prince can do in the bedroom, but that was never one of
them!"

Rhen's eyes widened, turning on Jin in
surprise.
That rascal!
The boy looked quite proud of
himself, and the smirk playing on his lips spoke of payback.

Of course, the fact that Rhen probably
deserved a little payback was of no consequence. A rumor like that
could ruin his reputation, the reputation he had spent a lifetime
building, the cover he needed to continue his work uncovering other
people's secrets.

Rhen reached for his ale, downing the rest
of his second glass in one large swig. He knew just what to do.

"You want to know if the rumors are true, do
you?" He asked, a blush now rolling up Reana's pearly white cheeks,
mixing with her rouge.

She smiled, bit her lip, and nodded just
ever so slightly, curiosity lighting her gaze.

"Then, my lady, I'm more than happy to
oblige," he said, smirking, and in one motion he stood, throwing
the weight of Reana's petite body over his shoulder. She laughed
and screamed playfully, thumping at his back with her delicate
fists. The rest of the tavern turned at the commotion, and the men
erupted into drunken cheers, most only just realizing they were in
the midst of a prince of the realm.

His plan was working perfectly.

"Martha, you'll take care of Jin, won't you?
Make sure he finds a place to sleep," he asked, then added,
"alone?" Jin was not ready for a night with Martha, of that Rhen
was completely certain. And the boy had been through more than
enough for one day.

"Of course, your Highness," she said, using
his formal title, sealing the deal with a nod. She understood that
the command was not a jest—Jin would have a place to sleep
uninterrupted by the unfamiliar city he'd been forced into.

For good measure, Rhen flipped a gold coin
from his pocket and into her palm. Her eyes brightened, and she
stuffed the money between her breasts.

He shook his head. The greedy woman—if only
all people were so honest.

"Barkeep?" He yelled aimlessly across the
room, pretending to be drunker than he was.

"Yes, sir?" A meek voice called back from
somewhere in the crowd.

"Two glasses and your best house wine
delivered to the usual room," he shifted Reana on his shoulder,
earning another shriek. As always, he felt more like an actor on a
stage than a real man, but it was necessary.

"Yes, sir," the voice responded, firmer this
time.

And then Rhen turned, climbing the stairs at
the back of the tavern while catcalls still rang in his ears. He
walked sturdily down the hall to the last room on the right, the
largest room, and also one of the few rooms with a window.

As soon as they entered, he tossed Reana
onto the bed, still playing his role.

Moments later, a young boy, the tavern
owner's son, ran into the room, gently placing a tray with two
glasses and a jug of wine onto the table. He bowed once before
closing the door behind him.

Rhen grabbed one of the glasses, turning his
back on Reana while he poured the drinks. He heard her moving on
the bed, probably rearranging herself into a more graceful position
than the one he had dropped her in. Out of eyesight, he pulled a
small vile from his pocket, untwisting the lid and slipping a few
drops of a sleeping solution made by the palace apothecary into the
second glass, before filling it with wine as well.

He spun around slowly, meeting her eyes with
a hungry stare, watching as hers sparked to match it.

But unlike her, Rhen was pretending. There
was no heat stirring in his veins, no passion building in his
chest. This was business.

He settled on the bed, handing her the laced
wine and holding his own aloft. "Cheers," he said, and clinked her
glass, trying to embolden his expression before downing the wine in
one sip.

As he expected, she followed suit, taking
two large sips to finish her drink.

In a few moments it would be done. But, Rhen
mentally shrugged, he did have to give her something to dream
about.

And there was no harm in one kiss.

Propping himself up on the bed, Rhen leaned
over her, pressing Reana's body into the bed below them, loving the
way her feminine curves cushioned his weight. He let their breaths
mingle, let the stars in her eyes continue to dance, faster and
faster. After a moment of hesitation, of letting her electric
excitement build, he touched his lips to hers. A contented sigh
swelled in his ears.

She wrapped her arms around his waist,
hugging him closer, surprising him with her passion, and throwing
him off balance. But just as Rhen reached to steady himself, her
limbs fell free of their hold, landing with an
oomph
on the
mattress.

Wriggling from her embrace, Rhen stood.

Another conquest down
, he grinned,
staring at the spread eagle limbs before him. With a laugh, he
repositioned her legs, dragging her left side back over to her
right, hoping her sleep was full of the wonderful dreams the
apothecary assured Rhen the potion created. And it must do the
trick, because there were women all over the kingdom convinced they
had shared a night of passion with the prince, when in reality,
Rhen was the best chastity belt a worried father could buy.

He shrugged and walked back to the table,
downing one more glass of wine before turning his attention to the
window.

It was time to see Cal.

It was time to get a message to the
king.

Unlike most taverns in Roninhythe, the
Staggering Vixen was three stories tall, a long way to carry a
woman, but high enough that he could jump onto the next-door roof—a
roof that just happened to sit next to the backside of the castle,
directly under Cal's bedroom window.

Opening the glass slowly, Rhen let the wind
whip his face, let the salty smell ensnare his senses, and then he
crouched onto the pane, balancing there. Slowly, he reached up for
the loose brick above the window. A few tugs and it slipped into
his hand.

A rope fell before his eyes. Rhen smiled and
pulled the rest of it free before returning the brick and jumping a
few feet down onto the roof below him.

He coiled the rope in his hand, feeling the
points of the claw knotted tightly to the end. The metal was a
little worse for wear, but it would do—as long as Cal had gotten
word and had cleared the guards from the wall.

Rhen looked up.

No movement.

The castle was divided into two levels, a
wide base with platforms and walkways built for war, and a second
narrower level where the family lived. As long as the first level
was clear, no questions would be asked.