The Princess' Harem
Chapter 64: A Flicker in the Dark

Chapter 64: A Flicker in the Dark

Sleep came fitfully for Viana, her dreams tangled with images of chained captives and Arin’s shadowed face.

She sat up, her heart was racing, and saw Joel silhouetted against the window, his runed dagger glinting as he turned it idly in his hands. The room was dim, the candle long extinguished, but the faint light of late morning seeped through the shutters.

"Couldn’t sleep?" she asked, her voice soft to avoid startling him.

Joel glanced over, his expression unreadable. "Not with Kess’s game looking. And..."

He hesitated, then lowered his voice. "I keep thinking about what Ren said. Slavers, Viana. If we’re wrong about him, or if Kess suspects us, we’re not just risking our lives. We’re risking theirs."

Viana rose, wrapping her cloak around her shoulders as she joined him by the window. The port town sprawled below, its docks bustling with sailors unloading crates under the watchful eyes of armored guards.

"I know," she said quietly. "But we can’t turn back now. Ren’s information is our best chance to expose Arin. We just have to play this perfectly."

Joel’s gaze softened, glancing at her in the room’s dim light. "You sound so sure. How do you do it? Carry all this—princess, spy, savior—and still keep going?"

The question caught her off guard, his sincerity piercing through her defenses. She looked away, her fingers brushing her long golden hair.

"I’m not sure," she admitted. "Maybe because I’m not alone. You’re here, Joel. Even when you’re insufferably cocky."

He laughed, a low, warm sound that eased the knot in her chest. "Insufferable, huh? And yet you keep me around."

He stepped closer, his hand grazing her arm, lingering just long enough to make her pulse quicken. "For the record, Your Highness, I’m not going anywhere."

For a moment, the world narrowed to the space between them—the salt-scented air, the creak of the inn’s wooden floor, the unspoken promise in his eyes.

Viana wanted to say something, to name the feeling that had been growing since they left the palace, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she offered a small smile.

"Good. I’d hate to train a new partner."

Their moment was shattered by a sharp knock at the door. Joel’s hand snapped to his dagger, and Viana tensed. They exchanged a glance, silently agreeing to stay calm.

Joel moved to the door, cracking it open just enough to see a scruffy boy, no older than twelve, clutching a folded parchment.

"Message for Elias," the boy muttered, thrusting the note forward to him before darting away.

Joel closed the door, unfolding the parchment with a frown. Viana leaned in, her shoulder brushing his as they read the scrawled words: *Tavern. Midday. Bring the proof. No delays. —K*

"Kess," Viana said, her stomach twisting. "Midday? That’s hours earlier than we planned."

Joel’s jaw tightened. "He’s testing us. Either he’s impatient, or he smells something off."

He tucked the note into his cloak, his playful demeanor replaced by the steely focus of the Mercenary King. "We need to move. Now."

They gathered their belongings swiftly, Viana securing the eagle medal in a hidden pocket and Joel checking his dagger’s runes. As they left the inn, the town’s morning bustle felt oppressive, every glance from a merchant or sailor felt like they were suspicious of them.

The tavern was quieter at midday, its usual crowd of drunken sailors replaced by a handful of grim-faced traders. Kess sat in the same corner by the fireplace, his blue robe stark against the smoky room.

His silver-ringed hand rested on the table, and his eyes locked onto Viana and Joel the moment they entered. Two cloaked figures lingered near the bar—his guards, no doubt.

Viana kept her expression neutral, her cloak loose to hide her beautiful and flawless features as a princess. Joel, ever the performer, sauntered forward with a confident grin, but his hand never wandered away from his dagger.

"Elias, Mara," Kess greeted, his voice was smooth but laced with scrutiny. "You’re prompt. I trust you’ve handled our little problem?"

Joel slid into a chair across from him, Viana standing at his side to keep watch.

"The scout’s gone," Joel said, his tone was casual but also firm. "Caught him in the northern forest, just like you said. He put up a fight, but we convinced him to run."

He leaned forward to place the eagle medal on the table with a deliberate clink. "Took this as proof."

Kess’s eyes flicked to the medal, his fingers tracing its edge.

"Impressive," he murmured, but his gaze darted between them, searching for any possible clue of their lies. "Describe the fight. Where was he hiding?"

Viana’s heart pounded faster, but she kept her voice steady. "A small camp, half a mile off the main trail. He had a bow—broken now—and a fire to keep him warm. We flanked him, took him by surprise. He fled north, swearing he’d never come back."

Joel added, "Left his gear behind. Sloppy for a scout, if you ask me."

Kess leaned back, smiling slightly. "Sloppy, indeed."

He pocketed the medal, but his eyes lingered on Viana, as if sensing her unease. "You’ve done well. But the north is a dangerous place. Loyalty is... fragile."

The air grew heavy. She forced a nod, and a calm expression.

"We’re loyal to those who pay," she said, her tone was cool. "What’s next?"

Kess tapped the table, his rings glinting under the tavern’s dim light. "A caravan leaves tomorrow night. Join it. Prove your worth, and I’ll introduce you to someone who knows more about your... interests."

His gaze sharpened. "Fail, and the north will swallow you."

***

As they left the tavern, the midday sun did little to warm the chill in Viana’s bones. Joel’s hand brushed hers, a silent reassurance that everything would be fine, but his face was grim.

"He’s playing us," he whispered. "That caravan’s probably a test—or a trap."

Viana nodded, her face was pale under the sunlight. "Then we spring it. But we do it our way."

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