(no subject)
Strawberry #6. Pocket Watch
Rating PG
Timeframe : spring 1260 (the first week or so at the fort)
Word Count : 2886 (wow, I managed a long one, haven't done that in awhile)
Lyssa gave the door a shove. It struck the wall with a thud when she set her back against it, arms folded across her chest as Ski strode past.
“What’s with you?” she asked, eyes settling on her sister’s neckline which, remarkably, exposed more than just her neck.
“Come again?”
Lyssa rolled her eyes as she took a step from the door and the heavy wood swung shut. “You never go in for this sort of thing, Ski.” It seemed she thought a blank stare to be an adequate response. For a moment, there was no sound but that of their boots on the floorboards. “Seriously, I could count the number of times you were even remotely friendly with Bergan’s men on one hand. I doubt you even knew half their names.”
Ski’s brows furrowed. “I- well, things are a bit closer here, living in the barracks and all,” she said, reaching for the next door. “I suppose I ought to make an effort.”
Lyssa laughed as Ski ushered her through. “Are you sure it’s not just because you hope a certain someone might be there?”
“I assure you,” said Ski, though she grew a shade warmer, “I have no idea what you speak of.”
“I’m not going to be passing him love notes for you, am I?”
“What am I, twelve?” The door snapped shut behind them. “I am sure I am quite capable of expressing such sentiments myself. That is, if I had such things to express.”
“Right. No notes then.” She waved a hand at the bit of collarbone her sister had on display. “You know, a lower neckline wouldn’t hurt with the whole expressing business.” She pinched the edge of the fabric and gave it a playful tug before Ski swatted her hand away.
Lyssa thrust both her hands into the deep pockets of her skirt as they rounded a corner and proceeded down a flight of stairs. The two came to a halt before yet another door. Ski put a hand to the knob and stood there a moment, staring at the metal in her grasp. Lyssa cleared her throat and, shaking her head, Ski gave the knob a twist and swung the door wide.
No sooner had she opened the door than the captain was up and hurrying to greet them. Tristan’s broad features held the same foolish grin they always did when Ski was around, so wide it seemed his face might burst. His hand came up as if to settle on her arm. “Ladies, glad you could make it,” he said, the hand hovering awkwardly in the air between them. He glanced at it, cheeks flushing, and hastily dropped it without ever making contact.
Lyssa squeezed past her sister, who it seemed had suddenly forgotten how to walk, and made her way to where the rest of the men were gathered on the floor. “What are we playing?” she said, dropping to her knees among them. Wyatt scooped his meager pile of coins into a tighter heap as if he needed to give her room. The soldier to her left, whose square face didn’t manage to conjure up a name, made no accommodations. She stretched and folded her legs, tugging her skirt over knees that nearly collided with those of both men.
From across the circle, Leland’s dark eyes studied her thoughtfully over the stack of cards he passed from one thick hand to the other and back. “Nine card. No draw, nothing wild.”
“Deal me in.” A moment of digging brought a jiggling purse from her pocket.
Wyatt cocked a brow at her as the purse hit the floor with a soft thump. “You sure you want to? We’re not about to go easy.”
Lyssa snorted. “I hope not.” There were soft chuckles from around the ring as a dozen sets of eyes fell on the bulging purse. “C’mon,” she added to Leland, who shrugged and started doling out the cards.
Tristan drifted a step from his post near the door, his eyes darting to Lyssa before gravitating back to Ski. “Can I get you two anything? A drink?”
“What are the rest of you having?” Lyssa took a peek at Wyatt’s mug.
“Well,” said Tristan, with another unsuccessful attempt at prying his gaze from Ski. “There’s a keg, but-”
“Fine by me,” said Lyssa, scooping her cards from the floor.
“And you?”
Lyssa fanned her cards face down in her lap to peer over her shoulder at Ski. “I, uh, sure,” said Ski, absently weaving her fingers together in front of her.
Leland paused in his card tossing. “Tris, you in?”
“Yeah,” said Tristan. “A moment.” Another smile at Ski and he was off to the corner of the room.
Wyatt gulped the last of his drink and waved the empty mug in the air as Tristan fetched two more. “Got some for me too?” he called as Tristan put the first to the tap.
His free hand shot up as if to respond, but his eyes darted back to where Ski stood and he let it fall. “Get your own,” he said.
Tristan made his way back around the circle, depositing one glass in front of Lyssa before heading back to Ski. Wyatt frowned at Lyssa’s drink. “What’s it take to get such service?” he asked.
“I expect it takes a pair of these,” she answered, with a grin and a not so subtle thrust of her chest.
Wyatt gave up the scowl in favor of an appreciative nod. “Don’t suppose it’s yours he’s all that interested in, though,” he muttered, and they both grinned at Ski. Now clutching the tankard of ale in her hands as if she’d never seen such a thing before, she raised a questioning brow at the unheard comment, before sighing and shaking her head.
Lyssa took a gulp from her mug and gave the amber liquid a smile. “Good stuff,” she said.
“Tris gets it from somewhere,” said Wyatt. “Won’t tell us where, though.”
“I like having my secrets.” Tristan waded through the men, who ducked and leaned to let him pass. “Not like there’s much else I can hold over any of you.”
Leland and the soldier beside him moved aside and he settled between them, the former with a snort. “No one here could take you if he dared,” he said. “And you think you need magic beer to keep us in line?”
“Hey,” said the blonde to the other side of Wyatt. “Don’t tell him that. It’s the beer, Tris, all the beer.”
Wyatt gave the man a hefty slap on the back and grinned at Tristan. “Don’t cut Bruce off. Might get ugly.”
Tristan shook his shaggy blonde head at the two of them. Retrieving his cards from the floor, he cast Ski a hopeful look. “Will you join us?”
“That is what I came for, is it not?” Lyssa hid her grin with another gulp of ale.
Leland dealt another hand and set the deck in the middle. Ski looked about the circle, both hands still wrapped around the drink she had yet to sample. Tristan gave the man beside him a nudge and he hastily moved drink, coins, and self aside. Ski stepped into the ring, soldiers parting to cut her a path, and took the offered seat beside the captain. Leland peeled the top card from the deck and turned it over to reveal a blue six. He laid the card face up alongside the pile. A red two and a black nine then joined it, set in a row. Settling back into his seat, he looked to Tristan.
The captain eyed his cards a moment, then scooped a piece of silver from his pile and tossed it into the ring. He turned to Ski, who had abandoned her drink for her cards, which now received the same blank stare. “It’s your bet,” he said, drawing her attention. Her eyes narrowed as he continued cheerfully to explain the game. “You match your hand with the board. There’s more cards coming, so-”
“I am familiar with the game,” she said.
Tristan swallowed the remainder of his speech, round cheeks turning red. Lyssa nearly choked on her drink as she fought the urge to laugh. Ski calmly dipped a hand into her pocket and drew out her purse. She opened the cinch and dropped another coin on top of Tristan’s.
The bet passed around and more coins joined their two. Lyssa’s landed with a loud clink on top of the pile and Wyatt’s followed. Leland’s coin topped off a heap of more than a dozen. A red five joined the cards on the floor. Tristan made his next bet in silence and put his cup to his mouth, perhaps in an effort to keep it shut, while Ski tossed her coins in as well. Lyssa stifled a yawn, wondering if Tristan’s attempt to educate Ski on gambling was to be the highlight of her evening.
“You really use magic on those things the other day?” Tristan nearly choked on his drink, as all eyes turned toward the speaker. He was seated somewhere along the arc between Ski and Lyssa, a figure cast from the same muscle-bound mold as the rest of the room. Dark eyes, set beneath thick brows, settled expectantly on Ski.
“Alec, you know better than to ask that.” The reprimand came not from Tristan but from the other side of Leland.
“Tristan said-” Alec protested, the coin pinned between his fingers aimed at the second speaker.
“I never-” Tristan sputtered.
“Yes.”
The room fell silent as everyone gaped at Ski, who sat as calmly as if they were discussing the weather. “What?” she said. Lyssa snorted.
There was a muffled chorus of questions, quickly cut short by a sweeping glare from the captain. “I invited the Ladies here to play, not so you all could harass them,” Tristan said. Ski opened her mouth, but he gave her such a pleading look she dropped whatever it was she might have said. There were scowls and grumbles from about the ring, but the betting resumed.
Lyssa sighed and took another gulp of ale as she tossed her coin into the pile. Wyatt tossed his in after, his elbow colliding with her knee as he drew back. She raised a brow at the man as she took another sip.
“You too?” he whispered as coins continued to clatter onto the heap.
Lyssa grinned. “Mmm-hmm.” Wyatt grew a shade paler as he regarded her. “I can show you later if you want.” She glanced into her mug and frowned at the realization that it was empty.
“Might want to slow down a bit,” Wyatt said aloud, a thick hand sliding over hers and slipping the cup from her grasp. She frowned at him a moment before it became clear that he was headed to the keg with it.
There was another nudge, this time from her left, and Lyssa looked back to the board, where the pot had grown and a green six had joined the spread. One card to go and nothing in her hand that matched. Lyssa shook her head and laid down her cards.
Wyatt returned with two fresh drinks. He frowned at the board. “Out,” he said. Lyssa took the glass offered her and put it to her lips.
The last card would have done her no good and seemed to serve the rest little better. A few were in; a few more folded. Leland took the pot with just a pair of tens in his hand. Tristan took in the cards and another round began.
“What sort of magic?” came the whisper from her right as coins sailed into the ring.
“Fire,” she answered and took another gulp of ale while she caught the appreciative nod out of the corner of her eye.
“You two better not be cheating.” The voice was the same that had chided Alec earlier.
“If we are, I don’t suppose we’re doing terribly well at it,” Lyssa said, folding.
Wyatt studied his cards for a moment and tossed his share of coins into the pile. “Don’t mind Hector,” he said. “He just wishes he had a better seat.” With that he sidled closer to her.
Ski cleared her throat. With an awkward glance at her sister, who just shook her head, Lyssa pushed herself to her feet. Wyatt looked at her in concern. “Refill,” she muttered, grabbing the mug.
“You’ve barely touched it.”
“Stretching my legs, then.” Uncertain where else to go, she headed for the keg anyway. Wyatt shrugged and turned back to the game.
She took a gulp from the mug and held it under the spicket, bringing the level back up. Coins clattered against the wood and there were grumbles and groans and the flutter of cards falling to the floor.
“Lyssa.” She turned at the sound of her sister’s voice. Ski looked up at her from across the room, shuffling the cards between her hands. “Next round, are you in?”
“Yeah,” she said, making her way back to the ring. Wyatt granted her a fair amount of room as she took her seat, though he still looked concerned. Ski offered her a smile and started doling out the cards.
Three drinks and enough games later that she had long since stopped counting, Lyssa eyed her hand and the board; green two, three, and four in hand and the six on the board, one card away from a likely win.
Leland turned the final card, a green seven. One bet. Two more folded. Lyssa shrugged and tossed more coins on the pile.
“Looks like Wyatt’s out,” said Hector.
“I’m not out,” said Wyatt.
Tristan laughed, his own cards already discarded on the floor in front of him. “You’ve got nothing left.”
Lyssa eyed her pile. “Want me to spot you?”
“Like hell.” He dug a hand into his pocket and pulled out a polished brass orb on a thick chain. “That should cover me,” he said, gently laying the watch on the center pile with a nervous glance around the room as if he expected someone to challenge him.
No one said a word. Wyatt let loose of the watch with some reluctance, eyes lingering on it as he held his cards in his lap. Bruce silently folded with a frown at his meager pile. Handfuls of coin were added as the bet passed on. Two more hands went down in defeat.
“You’re out now,” said Hector, raising the bet.
There was groaning and throwing down of cards around the ring, and a heavy sigh from Wyatt. “You had to know that was going to happen,” she muttered. “Raise you two,” she said aloud. “Seriously, I’ll cover you.”
“Nah,” said Wyatt, tossing his cards to the floor. “I know when to quit.” Hector snickered.
The next two shot her looks of contempt and folded as well. “Three,” said Hector, and it was down to the two of them.
“All in,” said Lyssa, giving her pile a shove. Coins toppled and clattered into the ring.
A dozen pairs of eyes grew wide. “You’re mad,” said Hector.
Wyatt scowled at her. “If you’re doing what I think you are…”
“What?” she said. “Winning myself a nice watch?”
Hector eyed the pot and his own pile. It was enough to match hers, but he returned Lyssa’s expectant grin with a scowl. He shuffled the coins in front of him about and glared at the board. “I’m out,” he said at last.
“Lovely,” said Lyssa, cards falling face down as she raked the pot to her with both hands.
From across the ring, Ski shook her head. “Nice bluff, Lyss.”
Lyssa’s head shot up from the pile of coins she was sifting to glare at her sister.
“I knew it,” said Hector. “I just knew it. Should have called it.” His words were drowned out by the distant clang from the bell tower. Every face in the room darkened.
“Now?” said Tristan. He tossed his cards down. There was a collective thumping of mugs against the boards, and jingling of coins as everyone deposited their winnings into their pockets.
Lyssa paused to drain her mug, not bothering with the heap of coins before her. Around her, the men filed out of the room. Her hand settled on the gleaming watch and she hooked a finger in the chain and hoisted it gently into the air. Pushing herself up to her feet, she found Wyatt’s eyes still on her.
She pressed the watch into the man’s hand. He stared at her, his mouth falling open. “I’m not keeping this,” she said.
“Yes you are.” It was her turn to stare in disbelief as he turned her hand over, firmly closing her fingers over the watch. “That way you’ll have to play again, so I can win it back from you,” he added, with a grin almost as foolish as Tristan’s.
Ski poked her head back through the open door, a scowl settling on her face as she caught sight of his hand clasped over hers. “You coming?” she said.
Lyssa pulled her hand from Wyatt’s grasp and stuffed the watch into her skirt. “Yeah,” she said, eyes still on the man as she headed for the door.
Rating PG
Timeframe : spring 1260 (the first week or so at the fort)
Word Count : 2886 (wow, I managed a long one, haven't done that in awhile)
Lyssa gave the door a shove. It struck the wall with a thud when she set her back against it, arms folded across her chest as Ski strode past.
“What’s with you?” she asked, eyes settling on her sister’s neckline which, remarkably, exposed more than just her neck.
“Come again?”
Lyssa rolled her eyes as she took a step from the door and the heavy wood swung shut. “You never go in for this sort of thing, Ski.” It seemed she thought a blank stare to be an adequate response. For a moment, there was no sound but that of their boots on the floorboards. “Seriously, I could count the number of times you were even remotely friendly with Bergan’s men on one hand. I doubt you even knew half their names.”
Ski’s brows furrowed. “I- well, things are a bit closer here, living in the barracks and all,” she said, reaching for the next door. “I suppose I ought to make an effort.”
Lyssa laughed as Ski ushered her through. “Are you sure it’s not just because you hope a certain someone might be there?”
“I assure you,” said Ski, though she grew a shade warmer, “I have no idea what you speak of.”
“I’m not going to be passing him love notes for you, am I?”
“What am I, twelve?” The door snapped shut behind them. “I am sure I am quite capable of expressing such sentiments myself. That is, if I had such things to express.”
“Right. No notes then.” She waved a hand at the bit of collarbone her sister had on display. “You know, a lower neckline wouldn’t hurt with the whole expressing business.” She pinched the edge of the fabric and gave it a playful tug before Ski swatted her hand away.
Lyssa thrust both her hands into the deep pockets of her skirt as they rounded a corner and proceeded down a flight of stairs. The two came to a halt before yet another door. Ski put a hand to the knob and stood there a moment, staring at the metal in her grasp. Lyssa cleared her throat and, shaking her head, Ski gave the knob a twist and swung the door wide.
No sooner had she opened the door than the captain was up and hurrying to greet them. Tristan’s broad features held the same foolish grin they always did when Ski was around, so wide it seemed his face might burst. His hand came up as if to settle on her arm. “Ladies, glad you could make it,” he said, the hand hovering awkwardly in the air between them. He glanced at it, cheeks flushing, and hastily dropped it without ever making contact.
Lyssa squeezed past her sister, who it seemed had suddenly forgotten how to walk, and made her way to where the rest of the men were gathered on the floor. “What are we playing?” she said, dropping to her knees among them. Wyatt scooped his meager pile of coins into a tighter heap as if he needed to give her room. The soldier to her left, whose square face didn’t manage to conjure up a name, made no accommodations. She stretched and folded her legs, tugging her skirt over knees that nearly collided with those of both men.
From across the circle, Leland’s dark eyes studied her thoughtfully over the stack of cards he passed from one thick hand to the other and back. “Nine card. No draw, nothing wild.”
“Deal me in.” A moment of digging brought a jiggling purse from her pocket.
Wyatt cocked a brow at her as the purse hit the floor with a soft thump. “You sure you want to? We’re not about to go easy.”
Lyssa snorted. “I hope not.” There were soft chuckles from around the ring as a dozen sets of eyes fell on the bulging purse. “C’mon,” she added to Leland, who shrugged and started doling out the cards.
Tristan drifted a step from his post near the door, his eyes darting to Lyssa before gravitating back to Ski. “Can I get you two anything? A drink?”
“What are the rest of you having?” Lyssa took a peek at Wyatt’s mug.
“Well,” said Tristan, with another unsuccessful attempt at prying his gaze from Ski. “There’s a keg, but-”
“Fine by me,” said Lyssa, scooping her cards from the floor.
“And you?”
Lyssa fanned her cards face down in her lap to peer over her shoulder at Ski. “I, uh, sure,” said Ski, absently weaving her fingers together in front of her.
Leland paused in his card tossing. “Tris, you in?”
“Yeah,” said Tristan. “A moment.” Another smile at Ski and he was off to the corner of the room.
Wyatt gulped the last of his drink and waved the empty mug in the air as Tristan fetched two more. “Got some for me too?” he called as Tristan put the first to the tap.
His free hand shot up as if to respond, but his eyes darted back to where Ski stood and he let it fall. “Get your own,” he said.
Tristan made his way back around the circle, depositing one glass in front of Lyssa before heading back to Ski. Wyatt frowned at Lyssa’s drink. “What’s it take to get such service?” he asked.
“I expect it takes a pair of these,” she answered, with a grin and a not so subtle thrust of her chest.
Wyatt gave up the scowl in favor of an appreciative nod. “Don’t suppose it’s yours he’s all that interested in, though,” he muttered, and they both grinned at Ski. Now clutching the tankard of ale in her hands as if she’d never seen such a thing before, she raised a questioning brow at the unheard comment, before sighing and shaking her head.
Lyssa took a gulp from her mug and gave the amber liquid a smile. “Good stuff,” she said.
“Tris gets it from somewhere,” said Wyatt. “Won’t tell us where, though.”
“I like having my secrets.” Tristan waded through the men, who ducked and leaned to let him pass. “Not like there’s much else I can hold over any of you.”
Leland and the soldier beside him moved aside and he settled between them, the former with a snort. “No one here could take you if he dared,” he said. “And you think you need magic beer to keep us in line?”
“Hey,” said the blonde to the other side of Wyatt. “Don’t tell him that. It’s the beer, Tris, all the beer.”
Wyatt gave the man a hefty slap on the back and grinned at Tristan. “Don’t cut Bruce off. Might get ugly.”
Tristan shook his shaggy blonde head at the two of them. Retrieving his cards from the floor, he cast Ski a hopeful look. “Will you join us?”
“That is what I came for, is it not?” Lyssa hid her grin with another gulp of ale.
Leland dealt another hand and set the deck in the middle. Ski looked about the circle, both hands still wrapped around the drink she had yet to sample. Tristan gave the man beside him a nudge and he hastily moved drink, coins, and self aside. Ski stepped into the ring, soldiers parting to cut her a path, and took the offered seat beside the captain. Leland peeled the top card from the deck and turned it over to reveal a blue six. He laid the card face up alongside the pile. A red two and a black nine then joined it, set in a row. Settling back into his seat, he looked to Tristan.
The captain eyed his cards a moment, then scooped a piece of silver from his pile and tossed it into the ring. He turned to Ski, who had abandoned her drink for her cards, which now received the same blank stare. “It’s your bet,” he said, drawing her attention. Her eyes narrowed as he continued cheerfully to explain the game. “You match your hand with the board. There’s more cards coming, so-”
“I am familiar with the game,” she said.
Tristan swallowed the remainder of his speech, round cheeks turning red. Lyssa nearly choked on her drink as she fought the urge to laugh. Ski calmly dipped a hand into her pocket and drew out her purse. She opened the cinch and dropped another coin on top of Tristan’s.
The bet passed around and more coins joined their two. Lyssa’s landed with a loud clink on top of the pile and Wyatt’s followed. Leland’s coin topped off a heap of more than a dozen. A red five joined the cards on the floor. Tristan made his next bet in silence and put his cup to his mouth, perhaps in an effort to keep it shut, while Ski tossed her coins in as well. Lyssa stifled a yawn, wondering if Tristan’s attempt to educate Ski on gambling was to be the highlight of her evening.
“You really use magic on those things the other day?” Tristan nearly choked on his drink, as all eyes turned toward the speaker. He was seated somewhere along the arc between Ski and Lyssa, a figure cast from the same muscle-bound mold as the rest of the room. Dark eyes, set beneath thick brows, settled expectantly on Ski.
“Alec, you know better than to ask that.” The reprimand came not from Tristan but from the other side of Leland.
“Tristan said-” Alec protested, the coin pinned between his fingers aimed at the second speaker.
“I never-” Tristan sputtered.
“Yes.”
The room fell silent as everyone gaped at Ski, who sat as calmly as if they were discussing the weather. “What?” she said. Lyssa snorted.
There was a muffled chorus of questions, quickly cut short by a sweeping glare from the captain. “I invited the Ladies here to play, not so you all could harass them,” Tristan said. Ski opened her mouth, but he gave her such a pleading look she dropped whatever it was she might have said. There were scowls and grumbles from about the ring, but the betting resumed.
Lyssa sighed and took another gulp of ale as she tossed her coin into the pile. Wyatt tossed his in after, his elbow colliding with her knee as he drew back. She raised a brow at the man as she took another sip.
“You too?” he whispered as coins continued to clatter onto the heap.
Lyssa grinned. “Mmm-hmm.” Wyatt grew a shade paler as he regarded her. “I can show you later if you want.” She glanced into her mug and frowned at the realization that it was empty.
“Might want to slow down a bit,” Wyatt said aloud, a thick hand sliding over hers and slipping the cup from her grasp. She frowned at him a moment before it became clear that he was headed to the keg with it.
There was another nudge, this time from her left, and Lyssa looked back to the board, where the pot had grown and a green six had joined the spread. One card to go and nothing in her hand that matched. Lyssa shook her head and laid down her cards.
Wyatt returned with two fresh drinks. He frowned at the board. “Out,” he said. Lyssa took the glass offered her and put it to her lips.
The last card would have done her no good and seemed to serve the rest little better. A few were in; a few more folded. Leland took the pot with just a pair of tens in his hand. Tristan took in the cards and another round began.
“What sort of magic?” came the whisper from her right as coins sailed into the ring.
“Fire,” she answered and took another gulp of ale while she caught the appreciative nod out of the corner of her eye.
“You two better not be cheating.” The voice was the same that had chided Alec earlier.
“If we are, I don’t suppose we’re doing terribly well at it,” Lyssa said, folding.
Wyatt studied his cards for a moment and tossed his share of coins into the pile. “Don’t mind Hector,” he said. “He just wishes he had a better seat.” With that he sidled closer to her.
Ski cleared her throat. With an awkward glance at her sister, who just shook her head, Lyssa pushed herself to her feet. Wyatt looked at her in concern. “Refill,” she muttered, grabbing the mug.
“You’ve barely touched it.”
“Stretching my legs, then.” Uncertain where else to go, she headed for the keg anyway. Wyatt shrugged and turned back to the game.
She took a gulp from the mug and held it under the spicket, bringing the level back up. Coins clattered against the wood and there were grumbles and groans and the flutter of cards falling to the floor.
“Lyssa.” She turned at the sound of her sister’s voice. Ski looked up at her from across the room, shuffling the cards between her hands. “Next round, are you in?”
“Yeah,” she said, making her way back to the ring. Wyatt granted her a fair amount of room as she took her seat, though he still looked concerned. Ski offered her a smile and started doling out the cards.
Three drinks and enough games later that she had long since stopped counting, Lyssa eyed her hand and the board; green two, three, and four in hand and the six on the board, one card away from a likely win.
Leland turned the final card, a green seven. One bet. Two more folded. Lyssa shrugged and tossed more coins on the pile.
“Looks like Wyatt’s out,” said Hector.
“I’m not out,” said Wyatt.
Tristan laughed, his own cards already discarded on the floor in front of him. “You’ve got nothing left.”
Lyssa eyed her pile. “Want me to spot you?”
“Like hell.” He dug a hand into his pocket and pulled out a polished brass orb on a thick chain. “That should cover me,” he said, gently laying the watch on the center pile with a nervous glance around the room as if he expected someone to challenge him.
No one said a word. Wyatt let loose of the watch with some reluctance, eyes lingering on it as he held his cards in his lap. Bruce silently folded with a frown at his meager pile. Handfuls of coin were added as the bet passed on. Two more hands went down in defeat.
“You’re out now,” said Hector, raising the bet.
There was groaning and throwing down of cards around the ring, and a heavy sigh from Wyatt. “You had to know that was going to happen,” she muttered. “Raise you two,” she said aloud. “Seriously, I’ll cover you.”
“Nah,” said Wyatt, tossing his cards to the floor. “I know when to quit.” Hector snickered.
The next two shot her looks of contempt and folded as well. “Three,” said Hector, and it was down to the two of them.
“All in,” said Lyssa, giving her pile a shove. Coins toppled and clattered into the ring.
A dozen pairs of eyes grew wide. “You’re mad,” said Hector.
Wyatt scowled at her. “If you’re doing what I think you are…”
“What?” she said. “Winning myself a nice watch?”
Hector eyed the pot and his own pile. It was enough to match hers, but he returned Lyssa’s expectant grin with a scowl. He shuffled the coins in front of him about and glared at the board. “I’m out,” he said at last.
“Lovely,” said Lyssa, cards falling face down as she raked the pot to her with both hands.
From across the ring, Ski shook her head. “Nice bluff, Lyss.”
Lyssa’s head shot up from the pile of coins she was sifting to glare at her sister.
“I knew it,” said Hector. “I just knew it. Should have called it.” His words were drowned out by the distant clang from the bell tower. Every face in the room darkened.
“Now?” said Tristan. He tossed his cards down. There was a collective thumping of mugs against the boards, and jingling of coins as everyone deposited their winnings into their pockets.
Lyssa paused to drain her mug, not bothering with the heap of coins before her. Around her, the men filed out of the room. Her hand settled on the gleaming watch and she hooked a finger in the chain and hoisted it gently into the air. Pushing herself up to her feet, she found Wyatt’s eyes still on her.
She pressed the watch into the man’s hand. He stared at her, his mouth falling open. “I’m not keeping this,” she said.
“Yes you are.” It was her turn to stare in disbelief as he turned her hand over, firmly closing her fingers over the watch. “That way you’ll have to play again, so I can win it back from you,” he added, with a grin almost as foolish as Tristan’s.
Ski poked her head back through the open door, a scowl settling on her face as she caught sight of his hand clasped over hers. “You coming?” she said.
Lyssa pulled her hand from Wyatt’s grasp and stuffed the watch into her skirt. “Yeah,” she said, eyes still on the man as she headed for the door.