Best Served Cold

“No!” Her voice stabbed out far sharper than she’d had in mind. “No. He’s saved my life. More than once, and risked his life to do it. Just yesterday he did it, and today have him killed? No. I owe him.” She remembered the smell as Langrier pushed the brand into his face, and she flinched. It should’ve been you. “No! I’ll not have him touched.”

“Think about it.” Rogont padded slowly towards her. “I understand your reluctance, but you must see it’s the safe thing to do.”

“The prudent thing?” she sneered at him. “I’m warning you. Leave him be.”

“Monzcarro, please understand, it’s your safety I’m-Oooof!” She sprang up from the chair, kicking his foot away, caught his arm as he lurched onto his knees and twisted his wrist behind his shoulder blade, forced him down until she was squatting over his back, his face squashed against the cool marble.

“Didn’t you hear me say no? If it’s sudden, unexpected and decisive force I want…” She twisted his hand a little further and he squeaked, struggled helplessly. “I can manage it myself.”

“Yes! Ah! Yes! I quite clearly see that!”

“Good. Don’t bring him up again.” She let go of his wrist and he lay there for a moment, breathing hard. He wriggled onto his back, rubbing gently at his hand, looking up with a hurt frown as she straddled his stomach.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Maybe I enjoyed doing it.” She looked over her shoulder. His cock was half-hard, nudging at the back of her leg. “I’m not sure you didn’t.”

“Now that you mention it… I must confess I rather relish being looked down on by a strong woman.” He brushed her knees with his fingertips, ran his hands slowly up the insides of her scarred thighs to the top, and then gently back down. “I don’t suppose… you could be persuaded… to piss on me, at all?”

Monza frowned. “I don’t need to go.”

“Perhaps… some water, then? And afterwards-”

“I think I’ll stick to the pot.”

“Such a waste. The pot will not appreciate it.”

“Once it’s full you can do what you like with it, how’s that?”

“Ugh. Not at all the same thing.”

Monza slowly shook her head as she stepped off him. “A pretend grand duchess, pissing on a would-be king. You couldn’t make it up.”

– 

E nough.” Shivers was covered with bruises, grazes, scratches. A bastard of a gash across his back, just where it was hardest to scratch. Now his cock was going soft they were all niggling at him again in the sticky heat, stripping his patience. He was sick of talking round and round it, when it was lying between ’em, plain as a rotting corpse in the bed. “You want Murcatto dead, you can out and say it.”

She paused, mouth half-open. “You’re surprisingly blunt.”

“No, I’m about as blunt as you’d expect for a one-eyed killer. Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you need her dead so bad? I’m an idiot, but not that big an idiot. I don’t reckon a woman like you is drawn to my pretty face. Nor my sense of humour neither. Maybe you want yourself some revenge for what we did to you in Sipani. Everyone likes revenge. But that’s just part of it.”

“No small part…” She let one fingertip trail slowly up his leg. “As far as being drawn to you, I was always more interested in honest men than pretty faces, but I wonder… can I trust you?”

“No. If you could I wouldn’t be much suited to the task, would I?” He caught hold of her trailing finger and twisted it towards him, dragged her wincing face close. “What’s in it for you?”

“Ah! There’s a man in the Union! The man I work for, the one who sent me to Styria in the first place, to spy on Orso!”

“The Cripple?” Vitari had said the name. The man who stood behind the King of the Union.

“Yes! Ah! Ah!” She squealed as he twisted her finger further, then he let it go and she snatched it back, holding it to her chest, bottom lip stuck out at him. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Maybe I enjoyed doing it. Go on.”

“When Murcatto made me betray Orso… she made me betray the Cripple too. Orso I can live with as an enemy, if I must-”

“But not this Cripple?”

She swallowed. “No. Not him.”

“A worse enemy than the great Duke Orso, eh?”

“Far worse. Murcatto is his price. She threatens to rip apart all his carefully woven plans to bring Talins into the Union. He wants her dead.” The smooth mask had slipped and she had this look, shoulders slumped, staring down wide-eyed at the sheet. Hungry, and sick, and very, very scared. Shivers liked seeing it. Might’ve been the first honest look he’d seen since he landed in Styria. “If I can find a way to kill her, I get my life,” she whispered.

“And I’m your way.”

She looked back up at him, and her eyes were hard. “Can you do it?”

“I could’ve done it today.” He’d thought of splitting her head with his axe. He’d thought of planting his boot on her face and shoving her under the water. Then she’d have had to respect him. But instead he’d saved her. Because he’d been hoping. Maybe he still was… but hoping had made a fool of him. And Shivers was good and sick of looking the fool.