Finn walked out of the room, intending to find Rebecca, but then he saw Fenrik with a woman sitting on his lap. She had long, dark hair, and Finn immediately concluded that it had to be her.
The sight rooted him in place.
The noise of the inn seemed to dim around him. Laughter blurred into distant echoes. Tankards clinked. Music hummed somewhere, but Finn barely registered it. His attention stayed fixed on the way Fenrik's hand rested casually against the woman's waist, the ease of familiarity clear even from a distance.
The thought of approaching them made his chest tighten. That fear had been stopping him ever since he arrived. He did not know how to approach Fenrik, his mission was maybe to buy poison from him but he thought maybe asking Rebecca would help him approach easily without being suspicious.
His fingers curled unconsciously at his side.
After lingering for some time, Finn decided to return to the whore's room. Just as he turned, he heard whispers coming from a nearby room, close to where he was standing.
His foot paused mid-step.
The corridor here was narrower, quieter. Fewer lanterns. The kind of place meant to be passed through, not lingered in. Finn leaned subtly toward the door, careful not to let his shadow fall against the crack of light beneath it.
"Messages were sent to every house, demanding they bend the knee. A few of them did," Finn heard through the closed door.His spine stiffened.
"What about the others?" another voice asked, deep and bold.
The tone carried weight. Authority. The kind that did not need to shout.
"My lord, they all refused to bend the knee to you. They would rather die than commit treason against the throne."
'Wow. Interesting. Looks like GOT is happening here,' Finn thought as he continued listening.
His pulse picked up. He pressed himself closer to the wall, barely daring to breathe.
"Since they refuse to bend the knee, give them what they would rather choose," the deep voice said. The words were calm.
"My lord, this will cause war within the kingdom. It will alert everyone and....."
Before the voice could finish, Finn heard the whisper of steel leaving its sheath. A second later came a wet thud, followed by the sound of something heavy hitting the floor. Finn flinched.
His stomach twisted as the sound echoed in his head. He did not need to see it. He had heard that sound before.
"Get rid of his body and summon Fenrik now," the deep voice commanded.
Footsteps approached the door.
Finn reacted instantly, slipping behind a curtain just as the door opened. He peered through the fabric and saw a knight in armor step out. The armor was different from what most noble's knight wore. Its design was sharper, more refined.
The knight's steps were steady. Unhurried. Like this was routine.
Finn's eyes tracked the way the armor caught the light. The craftsmanship spoke of wealth and purpose.
The knight moved toward Fenrik, who was still busy making out with Rebecca. The moment the knight whispered into his ear, Fenrik stopped. He adjusted his clothes, lifted a cup of wine, and took a sip, trying to look composed before standing. The change was instant.
Pleasure vanished from Fenrik's expression, replaced by something harder. Calculated. Controlled. Fenrik followed the knight.
Finn stayed frozen, barely daring to blink.
When they reached the door, Fenrik paused. He turned his head slowly, his gaze sweeping the area where Finn was hiding.
Finn's breath caught.
Fenrik walked toward the curtain.
Finn's heart hammered so loudly he was certain it could be heard. His muscles tensed, ready to bolt, ready to strike, ready to do anything if discovered.
Just as Finn thought he had been discovered, the knight spoke.
"My lord, he is not going to wait any longer."
Fenrik stopped. For a brief moment, Finn thought their eyes met. Then Fenrik snorted softly, turned away, and entered the room. The knight followed him inside. The door closed. Finn remained still.
Only after several long seconds did his racing heart slowly settle. His legs felt weak. His palms were damp. He swallowed, steadying himself before creeping closer.
"Come on, brother. How many times do I have to say this? No blood inside here. This is my temple," Fenrik's voice echoed from inside.
Finn crept closer and pressed his ear near the door.
The wood was cool against his skin.
"I need you to prepare one of your finest poisons. I presume the one you call Rattle's Snake will do the job," the deep voice said.
Finn's brow furrowed.
"What do you want to use it for, brother?" Fenrik asked.
"We have a feast to prepare."
The words sounded innocent. They were anything but.
"Whatever you are planning to do with my poison, shouldn't I be aware of it?"
Finn held his breath.
"Prepare the feast and invite those whose names are on the list I gave you. No questions asked." Silence followed.
"I should know. I have a post too. I govern the North. As a Duke, I should be aware of my brother's actions."
Finn heard the sharp sound of a sword being drawn. His pulse spiked again.
"Just because you are poison-free does not mean this blade cannot go through your head. I put you in the North. I made you what you are today. The sacrifices I made are the reason a place like this exists. The next time you question me, I will forget that you are my brother."
The blade struck the floor with a heavy thud.
Finn exhaled slowly through his nose.
"By next week, the poison should be ready. I have other matters to attend to. You will take care of the dead body."
Footsteps moved toward the door again.
Finn retreated into the shadows as the door opened. A man stepped out, his face hidden beneath a bamboo hat. Finn tried to catch a glimpse of his features, but the lighting and the hat made it impossible.
The man moved with purpose. No hesitation. No fear. The man left the inn.
Finn stayed hidden, counting his breaths, waiting until the sounds of movement faded.
Moments later, Oliver and Richard rushed into the room.
Their voices overlapped. Nervous. Excited. Afraid.
Finn quietly backed away. Even now, he cou
ld not shake the feeling that Fenrik might have seen him.