Roland regained his balance, looking like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to smirk or snarl. “Better be careful, Scar, or you’re going to end up just like the old—” Table legs screeched against tile and then the fighter had one hand wrapped around Roland’s neck, lifting him clear off the floor. The tavern fell silent. The fighter, unconcerned, held Roland aloft like he was nothing more than a doll, ignoring Roland’s gagging. Scarlet gaped, the edge of the bar digging into her stomach. “I believe you owe her an apology,” the fighter said in his quiet, even tone.
