"Piss off," I said back to her, before reaching down to grab the crotch of my trousers just to show her what I thought of her assessment. Damn straight I had the bollocks. Truth was, I wanted to be sure she did. At least she took pause at the knowledge. "Did I ever say I wasn't up for the idea? No, I said nothing of the sort. And--"
I took a step forward and jabbed my finger toward Bruiser. Not close enough that the mare would be able to take a snap at me, but close enough to -- you know -- establish authority. I said to the horse:
"You can dislike my tone all you want, you tosser. They're not going to hang you."
But Ailova started mounting, and if I wanted to get away from the wharfs for a few weeks, maybe get some extra coins in my pockets, I had to make a decision right here and now. Clearly the mad bitch was still interested in pulling something over on the Lord Steward, even with the warning.
Rock and a fucking hard place.
"Alright," I said, blowing out a breath. "Look, if it's not us, then it'll be something else. Better he encounter some good-natured profiteers like ourselves rather than some other hard-nosed entrepreneur with a blade on North Passage Down, yeah? So I'm in, but only, only," I said, another pointer finger shaking at Old and Homely, "if we take precaution and don't get lost in the moment like some giddy kid with a hard-on. We do it smart," I said, "we do it fast, and we do it clean.
"I'm quite attached to my head."