Free the Darkness (King's Dark Tidings Book 1) by Kel Kade

heard a soft nock at
the door. He gripped his dagger with one hand and swung the door open with the
other, standing off to the side so as not to present an easy target. The young
woman waiting in the hall gasped at the abruptness and stood staring at him
wide-eyed as a frightened doe.
    “Move, Roxie! This is heavy,” the small-man behind her said
with a huff. Pot beamed at Rezkin from behind the young woman. “Hi, Rezkin!
This is Roxiella. She’s the maid and helps out in the kitchen. We’ve brought
you your bath.”
    Rezkin smiled down at the young maid, and her cheeks turned
pink as she quickly looked away. What did I do wrong? Had he made her
angry? The smile seemed to work on the others. Perhaps it only works with
men. He motioned them to enter with the heavy tub between them. They placed
the tub in the center of the room and then headed back out saying they would
bring up the water. Inside the tub was a basket containing a few bottles of
oils and cakes of soap, a scrub brush, and a drying cloth.
    Waiting patiently while the two scampered up and down the
stairs with pails of water, Rezkin began unloading his pack. He piled his dirty
clothes next to the door and pull out his comb and shaving kit, setting them
next to the tub. After several long minutes, the tub was sufficiently filled,
and the maid turned to him and curtsied. Her face turned pink again as she almost
whispered, “Sir, if you leave your laundry outside the door, I’ll see that it’s
cleaned.”
    Rezkin bowed slightly to the young woman and gave her his
best court smile as he said, “Thank you, Mistress Roxiella. I will do as you
say.”
    Her pink cheeks turned a darker shade of red and her lips
broke into a giddy smile of her own. She nearly ran from the room. From the
doorway came a sudden burst of laughter. Pot grinned back at him.
    “She likes you,” he said before scurrying off to his own
chores.
    She liked him? When men’s faces turned red, it usually meant
they were angry. Then again, he vaguely remembered a lesson on human behavior
in which his master told him that men sometimes turned red if they were
embarrassed. Was the young woman embarrassed? Why would she be embarrassed to
like him?  And how could she know if she liked him when they had not even
interacted or tested their Skills against each other.
    Rezkin had always felt it was much easier to gauge a man’s
worth after he had sparred with him. This had been his first interaction with a
woman who was not a target of his blade, and if she had gone away liking him,
then he must have succeeded somewhere. It seemed that women needed a better
smile and a softer voice to make them feel comfortable. He would have to
remember that in the future.
    Rezkin stripped off his armor and gathered up the remainder
of his dirty clothes into a pile before placing them outside the door. He would
have to find something else to put on after his bath. People wore nicer clothes
in the city, so he could get away with wearing his dark grey night stealth
breeches. He was left with a dark blue silk shirt and a simple white linen
tunic. Since he did not want to appear too wealthy and attract attention, he
decided to wear the tunic. Few people in the city wore armor, aside from the
guards and city watch, and he did not wish to stand out. He could clean and oil
the leather gear tonight and forego the armor. It was a risk to expose himself
so, but he had to get used to blending in with society. He had known there
would be many times when it would not be considered appropriate to don battle
gear and had trained for such instances. His masters had made him wear
ridiculously flamboyant court dress while dueling, battling insurgents ,
or conducting stealth operations.
    Once he was finally washed and dressed with his damp hair
combed back into a queue, he strapped his swords to his hips, tucked his dagger
into his belt and secreted a number of knives about the rest of him. The room
had a long mirror in one corner, a