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“Inquisitor,” the guardsmen saluted. “The Seer.”
Shittim glanced up from his cards. “Dismissed.”
Fae flopped into the empty chair opposite him, watching him deal out her hand. The brief silence that had filled the Herald’s Rest when Shittim arrived had since risen to a nervous hum, just how he liked it. “Plagued by boredom again, ser?” she asked.
His mouth twisted into a sneer, shuffling the cards again. “Plagued. Like some peasant?”
“I would never accuse you of being peasantry, ser.”
“You wouldn’t, or I would have left you to sulk in your quarters.”
“And you would still be so bored. Well, are we going to play?” She flung her arms out over the neatly arranged cards already on the table, her tied wrists directly before him.
“Beg.”
“Please?” She batted her eyelashes up at him.
Shittim scoffed, but acquiesced. “You trying to sneak into my bed again, Seer? Cute, but that didn’t work out so well for you, last time.”
“Yes, well, you’re better with a dagger than I am. Evidently.”
“I’m also stronger than you, smarter than you, and prettier than you.”
“The prettiest, ser.”
He dealt his first card. “So, what have you got planned for your next attempt on my life?”
“Hmm. I don’t know, but I’m open to suggestions,” she flipped a limp strand of hair over her shoulder, wincing at her wrist which ached in protest.
“You’ve run out of ideas already? How long has it been since your last?”
“Five weeks and three days since I managed to give your ear a new piercing,” she clacked her teeth together with a dull grin. “I was aiming for your neck, you know? Ripping your throat out with my teeth would have done so well in the history books. If anyone’s still around to write them in a few years, that is.”
Shittim rose and leaned over the table, his hand reaching out to curl around her face. “I should’ve had your teeth pulled out just for the attempt,” he said with all the casual irreverence of discussing the next convert shipment to Par Vollen.
“Maybe,” Fae agreed through squished lips. “But then I wouldn’t have ever been able to bite you again. You’d have got bored.”
He drew close, as if he were about to kiss her, then nipped her bottom lip between his teeth before shoving her away. He smirked contentedly at her surprised whimper.
Her hand flew to cover her mouth, glaring reproachfully at him.
“Fix your face,” he warned, taking his seat. “It’s your turn.”
“What’s the point? You’re cheating, as usual.”
“Does that sound like my problem?”
“No, ser.”
“Then why are you whining to me about it? Take your turn.”
She looked at her cards, sighed, and flicked one down.
“You’re not even trying.”
“Yeah, well, maybe you’re not the only one who gets bored.”
He promptly leaned back across the table, his hand shooting out again to grasp her ear in a vice grip, forcing her out of her seat and dragging her over to crouch by his side.
She grimaced with a hiss as she held herself as upright as she could by holding onto the edge of the table.
“I could still have your tongue out instead, so you’d best watch it before I offer it back to you to view from a better angle.”
Fae smiled then, lips dripping with glittering malice. “Then you’d have no one left who’d verbally spar with you as well as I do. Ser.”
Shittim scoffed, patted her cheek a couple of times, then released her. “In that case, I might find other uses for that tongue of yours.”
Fae bowed with an Orlesian flourish. “Ever at your service, Inquisitor.”