Unlicensed Sorceress - Chapter 3
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Delhaven
Rooso Derne
The early sun’s rays stroked Rooso’s face, walking him. The silk comforter wrapped gently around him like a cloud. He rolled over to pull Mistress Mary Rose into his body to give her a kiss. The dip in the bed where she had slept was cold. He groaned, stretched, and placed his feet on the cold stone floor.
Wiping the sleep out of his eyes, he looked around the room. The walls were a light pink with pillows everywhere. A chair by the window where Mistress Mary usually sat drinking her morning coffee overlooking the gardens was empty. It was her habit to sit there a few minutes every day before guiding her empire of prostitutes and thieves.
He pulled on his pants and went in search of her. It was unusual for her to leave him here alone. They had been together for weeks now and loved waking up to her face. In the quiet of their quarters she was smart and funny and not the cold stone bitch that others thought of her.
He found her in the parlor next to the kitchen, sipping her coffee.
“Good morning,” he smiled, leaning against the door and stretching. She had told him once that she loved to watch him move. His red hair and freckles fascinated her. She loved to rub her hands across his torso and count them.
But instead of greeting him and running her eyes down his body, she was silent. Her eyes glittered.
Rooso strutted into the room, just to make her laugh.
“You are a charming rogue,” she muttered. The disdain in her voice made him stop. She was not playing this morning.
“What?”
“You heard me,” she said, and took another sip. “You are a charming rogue.”
“But you knew this already–” his voice trailed off. Something was wrong, very wrong. The temperature in the room dropped and if he had been on a mission, he would have been dressed for battle. His long red hair would have been bound up in a battle braid and he would be armed. His skin prickled. What did she know?
His face went still. He was a rogue, but did she know all of his secrets?
Then she smiled with her teeth. His stomach began to churn. This was not the woman he went to bed with last night. Even that smile made him want her even more.
“You. Are. A. Spy.” She condemned him. He knew how much she hated spies. She had ranted enough about them even though she used her network to spy on others.
“Hypocritical much?” He wished he had kept his mouth shut.
Mistress Mary Rose raised a dark eyebrow. This woman who would forever star in his dreams had silken dark hair, dark eyebrows, and deep sapphire eyes. This morning she was dressed in a robe that matched her eyes. Her feet were bare with pink pearl toenails. Just last night he had held those feet and kissed her toes.
They just stared at each other. The more she glared, the more he realized that she was not taking this well. He had hoped when she found out, if she ever found out, that they would laugh together and he would tell her that he would never spy on her.
His temper had gotten in the way and her pride had been pricked.
She rose gracefully from her chair and walked toward him, her robe swirling around her. She lifted her hand and forcefully slapped him across the face.
He was stunned.
“Out,” she said, menace in her voice. “I said, out.”
“Please.” He whined. He wanted to kneel down and beg her to let him stay. The shock was so much that he stayed standing and rocked back.
“Please,” he tried to say again. “I’ll tell you everything.” He tried. He tried to tell her about why he was in Delhaven. What his mission was in this little port town, but nothing came out of his mouth. Not a single sound. He almost strangled on the words.
It was then that he knew he was screwed. Some mage had spelled him. He would never be able to tell her the truth.
She watched him in disgust. Then pointed to the door.
“You have chosen your masters over me.” She went back to her chair and ignored him.
He wanted to charm her, but it was all gone. His eyes begged her to forgive him, but her eyes were cold.
“Manny,” she called the butler. “Throw this trash off my property.”
“Yes, mistress,” Manny said. “Follow me,” he said to Rooso in a firmer voice.
When they reached the front door, Rooso’s rucksack filled with his clothes and weapons sat next to the door. Manny handed him a cape to cover his bare chest, and waited for him to pull on his boots. Then Rooso picked up the heavy bag and swung it across his back with an oomph.
Manny opened the door politely and Rooso started walking. He heard the click as the door was locked behind him.
Rooso must have been in shock because he felt numb. As he marched through the alleyways of the city and eventually to the thoroughways he became angrier and angrier. How could she throw him out without hearing his side? How could she? He wanted to bust down her door and yell at her.
He would tell her everything.
When he tried to turn back to her, the spell forced him to walk faster. He could not turn. He had been hijacked and was going to the safe house whether he wanted to or not. When he realized his destination, he took no precautions. Fuck it. He wanted her to know where her enemies were, if it was the last thing he could do for her.
Oh yes, the damage was done. She wouldn’t take him back now. His throat burned and his dyes were dusty. Yes, dammit those weren’t tears. They were just dust. He blinked.
If she would just send a thug to beat him to a pulp, then he could come back and beg again for forgiveness, having received his deserved punishment. He was more afraid that she would never take him back. That she would never forgive him.
How in the hell had he come to this with a woman? He wanted to laugh at himself. He was the love ‘em and leave ‘em guy. How had she tied his heart and his nuts to her. He couldn’t play the game anymore.
He gasped and continued on.
It could have been thirty minutes or two hours, but he finally reached the safe house and pounded on the wooden door. There were footsteps and then the peephole opened.
A lot of bolts clicked and then the door was opened by a very young man. Rooso marched past him to a small study with a desk and bookcases lining the walls. A heavy fire roared in the fireplace. Books were dropped haphazardly around the desk. There was no one there, but there was a heavy wooden chair in the middle of the room.
If he had half a brain, he would have checked the chair for magic symbols before plopping down on it. But then, he had it on good authority that he was an idiot and risk taker. He plunked the bag beside the chair and waited. At least Mistress Mary Rose made sure that he had all of his weapons. The bag was damn heavy.
“Rooso,” the voice made him jump. He tried to turn in the direction of it, but he was stuck to the chair and could only look toward the fire. “You failed spectacularly again.”
Rooso would have said something snarky, but he couldn’t move or speak.
“Speak,” the voice commanded. Rooso ran all of the spells through his head, trying to find some way to release him from the chair. The force of the bastard’s command compelled him to speak. Instead he bit his lips and tongue, making them bleed. There was a hint of iron in his mouth.
Finally it became too much and Rooso lost control “She knows.” he bit out. He fought to keep from saying more. The person behind him was a stronger mage and Rooso knew that soon he would break and the mage would have access to all of his thoughts.
He could feel the pressure from the mage’s magic. It built up until he felt the block in his head break. He began to talk. He talked about carousing in pubs and whorehouses. He talked about his childhood and his meemaw and her dog. The one thing he didn’t talk about was Mistress Mary Rose. He buried those memories in the back of his brain with the memories of Hilda and the dragon.
He did tell about the dark mage and the Dragur.
“Old news,” said the mage. “Stop.”
The mage stayed behind him, but Rooso could still hear him. “What a useless piece of shit. What should I do with him?”
Cold terror. He could feel his regrets shaking hands with Mistress Mary Rose’s memories.
“Sleep.”
Instantly, Rooso fell into the darkness
.