Thread of Darkness

Ch. 8: rat stew in cups

She widened her eyes. "Hmm?"

He nodded at her wrists. "We both know you're not tied to that bed."

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."

Ryne looked at her, saying nothing. Anna sighed. Damn him.

"Fine," Anna said primly. "My neck was itchy, anyway."

She unshackled herself. Chavis stared at her as if she'd just sprouted three heads and performed an acapella version of And The Lady Ran Away With Her Tailor. "Your Majesty," he spluttered. "I swear that I didn't— if I had known—"

"Quite alright, Chavis," Ryne said, leaning against the window. "Annalise has a way of making people believe whatever she wants them to believe."

She raised an eyebrow. "Annalise?"

"That's your name," Ryne said, "isn't it?"

Anna waved a hand. "Only when Sophie's very cross with me. I didn't mind Little Thief, you know. It gave me a chuckle whenever you said it." She smirked. "You didn't understand the irony, of course. How could you?"

Ryne rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking very much as if he'd like to climb out the nearest window. "Chavis?"

The guard rested a hand on his sword. "Yes, Your Majesty?"

"Leave us."

Chavis sputtered. "But the prisoner, Your Majesty—"

"I can handle her," Ryne said.

Chavis looked as if he seriously doubted this. Anna gave him a winning smile and wiggled her fingers. The guard visibly swallowed.

"Your Majesty," Chavis said haltingly, "the prisoner is dangerous. I must insist on remaining here for your protection."

Ryne blew out a breath. "Chavis, if you leave in the next ten seconds, I will personally buy you a horse and ensure that your parents are settled on a nice piece of land in the country. Do you understand me?"

Chavis shifted his weight. "Your Majesty..."

"One," Ryne said slowly. "Two. Three—"

Chavis shot into the corridor.

Anna watched, amused, as the door fell shut. Then she whistled, clasping her hands behind her head. "Bribery. That's a new one for you. Have you run out of ways to threaten and murder people?"

Ryne ignored this. "Here."

He threw the bundle of cloth at her. Reflexively, Anna caught it. She examined the fabric — a gaudy green colour, like bruised pears — and raised an eyebrow.

"Why," Anna said, "are you giving me a hideous curtain?"

"It's a dress," Ryne said. "You're coming to dinner tonight."

Her eyebrow went higher. "I'm honoured. What's the occasion?"

Ryne folded his arms. "My cousin's in town."

"Ah," Anna said. "The evil one." She set the dress down, clasping her hands together. "He asked to meet me, didn't he?"

Ryne sighed. "Just get dressed."

"No."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Annalise—"

"I'm not in the mood," Anna said. "Anyway, Shambles and I have a longstanding date. He always brings me a rat for dinner."

She smiled at the cat. Shambles ignored her, licking at his paw. Well. Fine. Two could play at that game. Anna took out the coin again, flashing a beam of light across his nose. Shambles gave her a beleaguered look, as if to say, really?