Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Plopping down two empty cups on the bar top for Alastor to wash, I sigh, turning back towards the tavern. It is a slow night, with only a few tables full. The usual lively atmosphere is exchanged for dull and quiet. Perhaps everyone is hungover, recovering from the festivities.
“Slow night, huh, Alastor?” I make small talk with the grumpy bartender.
“Seems like it.” He huffs, polishing a glass with a rag.
The door opens. A few lively soldiers, chatting amongst themselves, walk inside. I recognize them from the night I first worked here at the tavern, as Sebastian went to sit with them after spotting me.
This is my chance.
Walking over to the table, I smile at the three men. “What can I get for you?”
“Three ale,” one says, sliding some coins across the table.
I pluck the coins from the surface, moving across the tavern so Alastor can fill some tankards with bubbling, dark-colored ale. Taking all three in my grip, I slide them across the worn table toward them.
“I don’t mean to be impolite, miss,” one of the men starts. “But are you a halfling?”
My gaze turns to the one speaking. He is young, perhaps in his early twenties, and has wavy, medium-length blonde hair. His armor is made of bronze, not steel, and lacks dents and scratches.
“Yes, I’m a halfling,” I reply warmly, keeping up the facade.
“Really?” His bright blue eyes hold a spark of curiosity.
“Yes.” I nod. “And you are from?”
“Ashvarin… my lady,” he stammers nervously, and I take note of his stare as it lowers.
I style my dresses the way Kaia has shown me: the corset pulled down, the apron low on my hips, and my skirt hiked up.
To my surprise, I am making far more tips, but attracting the wrong type of attention.
Many men stare at my breasts, while others have wandering hands that grasp at my backside as I pass.
I’ve seen enough of men’s lust to know exactly how ugly it is, yet somehow it still manages to disgust me every time.
Nevertheless, I didn’t know much about Ashvarin, so I used the conversation I overheard between Wrath and Gilead to learn more.
“I’ve heard the humans have been attacking in recent weeks.” I frown, appearing distressed. “Is all well over there?”
He nods. “We just returned from defending the border. It seems like they were searching for supplies before snowfall.”
“I’m glad everyone is safe,” I reply sweetly. “So you’re a part of Sebastian’s forces?”
“Yes.” His brows raise in surprise. “Do you know him?”
“I am acquainted with him, yes.”
“My name is Hans.” The young soldier offers me his name. “And you are?”
“Rae.”
“This is Gavriel,” he says, pointing to the Elvarran with short black hair, umber skin, and ice blue eyes. “And Lucio.” The second Elvarran is tan with curly, dark brown hair. A faint scar runs along his jawline, cutting through his stubble.
“It’s nice to meet you all.” I step away, hoping to ask more questions the next time they return. “Enjoy your evening and let me know if you need more ale.”
All of the information I collect at the Whispering Willow will be useless the minute Wrath tears it from me. My plan rests on his moods. He can’t know what I’m doing. I need to find a way to beat him at his own game.
If someone feeds me false information, could it throw him off? Or there is a way for me to resist his pull, safeguarding my mind. If I act fast enough, could I pretend to be distressed from the magic and slip in a lie before he can get the truth?
Moving around the tavern, I try to pick up on stray pieces of passerby conversations as I fill empty glasses, wipe down tables, and carry plates of food to the guests. The mindless and simple tasks are my favorites, as they allow time to pass quickly without hassle.
When the grandfather clock strikes, it signals the end of my shift. I untie my apron, pulling it over my neck and folding it into my satchel. Grabbing my cloak from behind the bar, I tie it around my shoulders and brace myself for the cold outside.
Alastor slides me a few silver coins, and I take them from him. “Thank you.”
“See you in a few nights.”
Exiting The Whispering Willow, I tuck my cloak closer to my body, noticing the chill in the wind. I only get a short distance away before Renwick hobbles in my path, his lips curling upwards to reveal a toothy grin.
“Ello, halfling girl.”
“Hi, Renwick,” I greet him. “No, I don’t want an elixir.”
He frowns. “How do ya’ know my name?”
“Kaia told me.” I smile. “Do you know where she is?”
I have waited for Kaia to turn up at the tavern again, but she never does. We have much to discuss, as we can mutually benefit one another if she is interested. If our ambitions align, then we can be excellent partners.
“One moment!” I hear a lilting voice call out nearby.
“How ‘bout a cursed object?” Renwick gestures to his cart, plucking a crystal ball and holding it close to me.
I sigh. “I don’t need any curses…” Then an idea suddenly pops into my mind. “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to know who C. V. Bainbridge is?”
Kaia told me that Renwick is nearly two hundred years old. Maybe he knows something about the author of the book, as he’s likely lived through several generations.
“It’ll cost ya!” Renwick holds up a finger.
I reach into my satchel, pulling one silver coin and handing it to him. “Here.”
“That’s Casimir Vaelric Bainbridge.”
“And who might that be?” I ask.
Before Renwick can reply, Kaia emerges from a nearby tent.
A man follows shortly behind, buckling his trousers as he strides off.
Her brown eyes meet mine, and a devious smile forms on her lips.
She adjusts her dress as she strides over to us, running her fingers through her long hair to push it out of her face.
“You’re not my usual customer,” Kaia teases.
“Can I speak with you?” I ask.
“It’ll cost you!” Renwick quickly cuts in.
Kaia places a hand on his shoulder, leaning down to kiss his cheek. “Oh, come on, Rennie. Be nice to pretty girls,” she coos.
He grumbles, but eventually relents. “Fine.”
“You should close up shop; it’s getting late.” Kaia drops her arm. “Go find a nice tree hollow to sleep in, or you’ll catch a cold.”
Renwick doesn’t reply. He turns to close the cover on his cart. With a triumphant humph, Kaia saunters down the street, seemingly unaffected by the cold.
I follow her. “So, these ‘lofty goals’ of yours.”
“Yes?” She raises a curious brow at me.
“How lofty?”
“Quite,” Kaia replies confidently.
“How close are you to court?” I continue my vague questioning.
“What an intriguing question,” Kaia muses. “I used to service many highborns while at the premier house, but alas, the Madame is wretched and keeps most of the fees.”
Interesting. There are many ways to manipulate someone to get what you want, but no influence is as strong as seduction. I know little of this tactic. Kaia does. That’s why she fixed my dress at the tavern.
“What if I could assist you in starting your own premier house?”
She gives me a knowing sidelong glance. “I knew I liked you,” Kaia says smugly. “You want something in return? A percentage?”
“A web.”
Kaia giggles. “And who are we trapping in this illustrious web?”
I glance around us, ensuring no one is within earshot. “The crown.”
“I love shiny things,” she says sweetly. “It’s costly to rent the kind of building we’d need on the nicer side of town.”
“But you know enough girls to… staff it?” I ask hesitantly.
“Please,” she huffs. “I know most are ready to leave that wretched Madame. Take the best girls, and the clientele will follow.”
“How much is the rent?”
“Hmm…” Kaia taps a finger to her lips. “A hundred silver at least.”
“Here.” I palm her the small leather pouch full of coins Wrath gave me. It is close to that amount, give or take a few dozen coins. “How long will it take?”
Kaia pockets the pouch of money. “A few weeks. I’ll start talking to the girls. Find a place and get the right furniture.”
“All right,” I say plainly, hoping my investment will pay off.