Chapter 15: Negotiation Process
"Who are you?" A gruff voice suddenly stepped forward.
Heather stepped forward, shielding from view but it was not necessary. I had the hood of my cloak up and the thin veil I was wearing beneath it cast my features in a shadow. Since Reagan had decided not to help us, I just couldn't sit by and do nothing. So I did exactly what he asked, for me to handle it by myself instead of yelling at him as if my words could fix it.
The consequences be damned, I do not care if Heather signed a collateral agreement, or even enter a blood covenant with them, I was getting her children out!
"She's the lady of the house where I worked," Heather her voice trembling despite the defiance in her posture. The quiver in her tone sent a ripple of amusement through the den. I saw it in the way the men leaned back in their chairs, their dark eyes glittering as though savoring a private joke.
"She's....She's come to pay off my debt." Heather finished.
One of the men's gaze cut to mine, "The lady of the house eh?" He said moving around to stand in front of me, "The lady of whose house?" He asked his gaze assessing me, trying to see my face.
Glaring up at him in response, I responded. "Doesn't matter what house. You need the money and I have it, so will you accept it or ask another silly question?"
"Well, well, well, seems we have one with a bit of a spunk in her lads." The man called to his colleagues who laughed as if he said something funny and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, "Name's Finch, what's yours love?"
I glared at him through the veil I wore, "Didn't anyone teach you not to address a lady of noble birth in such manner or are you just naturally an idiot?"