Glint (The Plated Prisoner 2)
“Evening, gentlemen,” she says cheerfully. “Gildy Locks here would like to see the saddles.”
The soldiers share a look. “Erm…”
Just like she did with Hojat, Lu grins and claps the soldier on the back, cutting off his hesitation. “Won’t be but five minutes.”
She moves and sits down on one of the stools they were just occupying before plucking up the used cigarette from the ground. It’s still smoking a little as she sticks it in the fire to relight it.
She perches it between her lips before looking up at them with a cock of her brow. “Well? You assholes just going to stand there, or are you going to teach me how to play this dice game?”
The men pause, fidgeting on their feet with uncertainty, but when she snaps her fingers, they rush forward to accommodate her.
First Hojat is a little skittish around her, and now these soldiers called her Captain. Clearly, she’s not just a soldier, but she has status too.
Interesting.
Lu smirks at them and gives me a conspiratorial wink. “Five minutes, Gildy. And don’t even think about trying anything stupid. You do, and it won’t be just you who gets in trouble, you get me?”
I nod slowly. “I get you.”
“Good. Because if you do anything to undermine their capture, there will be a price to pay,” she says.
I have no doubt there will be. Just like I have no doubt that I won’t want to pay it.
Chapter 16
AUREN
I don’t let myself hesitate too long in front of the tent, because if I do, I’m worried I’ll chicken out. I’ll turn around and tell Lu I’d rather play dice with them than to actually face the s
addles.
The problem is, I don’t know what to expect, but I’m going to go out on a frozen limb and say they still don’t like me.
Pinching the corner of the leather flap, I lift it up and duck inside.
As soon as my eyes adjust, I’m already doing a mental count. When I confirm that all twelve of them are accounted for, I let out a breath of relief.
Even though I stand at the entrance awkwardly with the chill of night at my back, none of the saddles see me at first. They’re too busy arguing with each other to notice.
There are fur piles everywhere, flickering lanterns hanging on the poles that hold up the fabric of the tent, and food trays shoved aside, forgotten. The tent is big, but it seems tiny with all of them inside, the energy thick with irritation as they bicker with each other.
My gaze flicks to the loudest voice, and I find black-haired Mist arguing with a small, pixie-looking female named Gia. They’re standing face-to-face, arms crossed, anger flashing in their eyes.
“You ripped my Divine-damned dress!” Gia growls, the sleeve of her bodice clearly torn, making it sag slightly.
Mist shrugs. “I warned you not to stretch your gangly ass limbs on my side.”
“I’ll stretch wherever I damn well please, Mist. You’re not in charge, and this tent barely fits all of us, in case you haven’t noticed. Not that you’re helping any, since you’re about two of me put together.”
Mist bares her teeth like she’s about to tear the girl’s throat out, but a saddle with long red hair cuts in. “You think you have it bad, Gia? Isis stinks so bad that even the goddesses in the high heavens are pinching their noses.”
Isis, the statuesque saddle on the other end of the tent, whips her head in the redhead’s direction. “Excuse me? You think you smell like roses, bitch?” she demands, angry red patches appearing on her cheeks. “You’re bathing with melted snow rags and shitting in holes just like the rest of us, so don’t try to pretend you’re any better!” she screeches.
“I don’t care who stinks,” Mist cuts in, still glaring daggers at Gia. “If you touch me again while I’m trying to sleep, it won’t be your dress next time. I’ll rip out your stupid hair.”
Gia fists her hands. “Try it, you whore!”
Several other saddles jump in to defend whichever side they’re on, tossing insults vicious enough that I worry they’re about to physically tackle each other.