Gared was sweating profusely now. The heat radiating from his own panic was suffocating him. He listened to her words, waiting for the bluff, waiting for the crack in her facade. But he found none. He felt her genuine, unyielding determination. This madwoman would actually do it. She would go to any lengths to protect her cubs.
I need to negotiate, Gared thought frantically. I need to offer her a benefit she can't refuse.
"Umm... ok," Gared stammered, his voice cracking. "I understand. I understand, you're a fierce one. Release me now. We can... we can make a deal. A partnership."
"I wouldn't trust a promise from a man like you if it were written in the blood of the Gods," Serena replied flatly. "What can you possibly offer me that guarantees my safety?"
Gared swallowed, his mind grasping at straws. "Gold! Gold Dragons, even! Not one or two, but dozens of them. I have a stash. You... you can live like a lady of a high house. You can buy a carriage, hire guards. I can assure you, no one will touch you."
Serena paused.
For a minute, the only sound in the shop was the crackling of the hearth and the muffled, agonizing groans of the thug on the floor.
Serena thought of the gold. With dozens of gold dragons, she could leave the North entirely. She could go to Braavos, or Pentos. But the logic of the streets, the lessons she had learned surviving Winter Town, quickly snuffed out that fantasy.
She shook her head slowly, her hair brushing against Gared's sweaty shoulder.
"Not enough," Serena decreed. "If I take your gold, you will simply hire cutthroats to follow us and steal it back by slitting our throats on the Kingsroad. Your gold buys me a comfortable grave. Nothing more."
Gared felt his heart plummet. His stealthy, vengeful plan—exactly what he had intended to do the moment he was free—had been caught and dismantled instantly. She is too clever, he thought, despair washing over him. That's why I'm trapped.
Silence draped heavily over the hall. The tension in the atmosphere was rising, thickening like smoke. Silas had covered his face with his hands. Yoriichi watched with unblinking eyes.
Serena was feeling the physical toll. Her body was getting weak. Holding a heavy, panicked man in a hostage grip for this long was draining the strength from her arms. Her muscles screamed in protest, and a slight tremor threatened to shake the knife.
I cannot hold this stalemate, Serena screamed internally. If I show weakness, if my arm drops an inch, he will throw me off. I must push him over the edge now. I cannot live at his mercy.
Summoning the absolute last reserves of her strength, her fingers tightened around the hilt of the knife. She pressed her forearm hard against his windpipe, cutting off his air, while the blade dug just deep enough to draw a second, thicker line of blood.
Gared felt his death arriving. The air was cut off from his lungs. The sharp sting of steel was a promise of the abyss. The suffocating terror broke whatever pride he had left.
"DAMN IT!" Gared finally shouted, a loud, desperate croak that tore his throat. "FINE! Fine! I will give you something that values my life... something that, if exposed, would bring me death. Just... let me breathe! Okay?!"
Serena had been waiting for this exact moment of capitulation.
Slowly, carefully, she loosened her grip just a fraction of an inch, pulling the blade back a hair's breadth from his artery, allowing a gasp of air to rush into his burning lungs.
Gared felt a surge of joyous relief, a brief hope that the ordeal was over. He opened his mouth to negotiate his release.
But Serena pushed her conviction. She couldn't let him regain his footing.
"First," Serena commanded, her voice like cracking ice, "you bring that thing here. You show it to me. Then, I will release you."
Gared bristled. "You crazy bitch, I can't—"
Thwack.
Serena didn't argue. She simply raised her heavy winter boot and kicked her heel viciously into the back of Gared's knee.
"GAAHH!" Gared cried out as his leg buckled. He dropped to one knee, a heavy, pathetic thud that shook the floorboards. Serena rode him down, keeping the knife perfectly positioned at his throat, forcing him into a position of absolute, humiliating submission.
He took heavy, ragged breaths. He felt absolutely helpless, pinned to the floor by a washerwoman in front of his own men.
"Uhhhh...." Gared groaned, the fight completely bleeding out of him. "Wait for some time then... my men will bring that thing."
He redirected his furious, pain-filled gaze to his two men. Orik was still sitting on the ground, clutching his bleeding thigh, his face pale white. Pate was plastered against the far wall, watching in horror.
"You two fools!" Gared shouted, his voice cracking with rage and fear. "Go to my home. The big house behind the brothel. Go into my bedroom. Open the locker hidden beneath the floorboards under the bed. Inside... inside there is an ordinary-looking wooden box. Bring that box to me."
He glared at Pate. "Remember... act normal! Don't run like you've seen a ghost. And don't let anyone steal it, or I'll skin you alive myself. If you do this task... if you bring it straight back here..."
Gared paused, needing a motivator strong enough to overcome their terror of the red-eyed boy.
"If you do this," Gared promised, "you both can come to the Mole's Hole for a year. For free. Every night."
The words hit the thugs like a jolt of lightning. In the desolate, freezing misery of the North, a year of free warmth, ale, and women at the brothel was a king's ransom. It was an absolute thrill that cut through their fear.
Somehow, their energy returned. Orik, gritting his teeth, grabbed a scrap of dirty cloth from a nearby crate. He tore it furiously and wrapped it tightly around his bleeding thigh, tying it off with a brutal knot that made him whimper. He stood up, leaning heavily on Pate, his face slick with sweat but his eyes greedy.
"Go now!" Gared barked, feeling the knife press against his skin again. "You damn fools, go before you miss this chance!"
Hearing this exchange—the casual bartering of women's bodies to motivate hired thugs—Serena felt a wave of absolute sickness and disgust wash over her. It was a vile, wretched world. But she didn't let a single micro-expression show on her face. She needed to act tough. She needed to be the monster in the room for her survival, for food, for her children.
"We're going, boss!" Pate stammered, supporting Orik's weight.
They didn't look at Yoriichi again. They practically scrambled over each other to get to the door, pulling the heavy oak open and slipping out into the freezing wind, leaving the shop in a heavy, blood-soaked silence.
"There," Gared panted, kneeling on the floor, staring at the dust. "They are gone. Are you happy now?"
"Happiness is a luxury, Lord Gared," Serena said softly, keeping the blade steady. "I will settle for leverage."
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Ah guys sorry for late update. I will try to upload the chapters as much as possible!