Grave Misfortune by Nazri Noor

Author:Nazri Noor [Noor, Nazri]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-07-18T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Orphium

Daybreak. Morning. The first slivers of sunlight streamed in between the boards hammered up against the window. Golden lines cascaded down the length of Leoric’s powerful back. I measured my breath, pretending to doze, pretending I wasn’t admiring the perfection of his physique. How much lovelier was the front?

But that wasn’t the point of opening my eyes so early — of waking, but not quite rising. Sleep hadn’t been so terrible, despite the relative thinness of the mattress, how the great, big lump beside me kept hogging the covers.

I took a precious few moments to assess Leoric’s own state of consciousness. The pattern of his breath, the swell and sag of his torso with every gentle snore. Yes. Excellent. Still asleep.

The coin belonged to me. I slipped a hand into his pocket.

It happened so fast. Leoric’s hand closed around my wrist. He yanked on my arm and pulled me out of bed, then somehow switched grips, grasping me firmly by the scruff of my shirt and the back of my trousers.

With one foot, he kicked the cottage door open. And once again, Leoric Stonesguard sent me flying through the threshold and sprawling across his front yard.

How in the blazes did he know? He’d reacted so quickly! Was it a warrior’s instincts? A soldier’s discipline? Was he watching, waiting for me too, knowing I would make my move in the morning?

The door slammed shut.

“The utter indignity!” I shouted at it, picking myself up, dusting my clothes off. “Why, I never!”

In all fairness, I did just attempt to rob the man. My outrage sounded ridiculous even to my own ears. I rushed to the well again, drawing enough water to wash my face, clean my teeth, and have a refreshing drink.

If Orphium of the Dawning Court needed to strut about town in his bedclothes, he would do it proudly, and in style. I was all smiles and waves as I greeted the townsfolk, who hopefully didn’t know enough about modern fashion to realize that I was wearing what was functionally a nightgown.

Good thing I could count on Wagon for so many things, including a place to privately change my clothes. I made a brisk beeline back to my caravan, putting on another suit of green and glittering gold. Something to dazzle the people with, something to keep them entertained. And didn’t Jeromah mention some guests rolling into town tonight? Fresh meat.

My stomach grumbled. Fresh meat, indeed. The Gwerenese would provide some much needed variety in my etheric diet, but my physical form needed nourishing, too. I looked wistfully out of my caravan’s window, wishing I could strut into the Ugly Mug for a fresh pie. Then came a rapping at the door.

I opened it carefully, certain it was someone come to scold me for making such a scene outside the graveyard. Close enough. It was Jeromah, glowering at me with her round, ruddy face. Which didn’t necessarily mean she was angry, mind — that was just how Jeromah looked all the time.

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