11. Hunter
Iarrive at Ylfa andPaddy’s temporary residence and knock briskly at the door.
While our lady will be attending the queen’s ball, I will be bonding with Paddy and having a “guy’s night in”.
I’ve never had one before. I have cheap beer, and a pack of playing cards.
In the past, I have gate-crashed the queen’s tent and made out with several queens, but this year I am spoken for.
This year, I will stay far away, getting to know my friend Paddy instead. We seldom spend any time alone together, and I must put a stop to that at once. We’re brothers in arms. We share a mate.
Paddy opens the door, and his eyes widen when he sees me. “Hunter? Why you here?”
I chuckle and enter the house, patting him on the back. I shove the keg of beer in his hands. “Guy’s night, of course. While our lady is busy at the ball, we’ll spend some quality time.”
He stammers, peering over at a book and a cup of steaming liquid by the fireplace. “But... I was just going to read tonight.”
I laugh, picking up the book. “The Wind and the Willows. Splendid choice, but I thought we could play cards instead.”
Patrick blinks, dumbfounded, carrying the keg in his arms. He heaves a sigh, placing it onto the table. “All right. I guess I could do with the company, and to take my mind off things...”
I don’t fail to hear the nervousness in his voice. He’s scared of the upcoming games and I reach across, patting his shoulder.
“It will be fine, Paddy. You will knock them all dead. You’re a true fighter. Don’t forget that.”
A small smile lights up his face, and he glances up at me appreciatively. “Thanks, Hunter.”
The fire continues to crackle in the hearth as we lose ourselves in our thoughts. Only time will tell how we will all fare at the games.
It’s my first time competing too, and I don’t want to disappoint my grandfather after all.
While he will be proud of me regardless, I still want to do my best for him. At times, I don’t think I deserve him. I’m lucky to have a supportive parental figure at all. The others? Not so much. Though I still know first-hand what it’s like to have a shitty father.
My father was never supportive...
There comes another knock, and Patrick and I glance at each other, confused. I shrug, and as he goes to open the door, I pour a little whiskey into his hot chocolate to take his mind off the games.
That ought to do it.
“What areyoudoing here?”
Shocked at Paddy’s harsh tone, I whirl around, grinding my own teeth when that asshole steps into the house uninvited.
Well, well, if it isn’t our gracious beta.
Is he trying to ruin guy’s night?