Chapter Sixteen Damien
Chapter Sixteen
Damien
I checked the floorboard after she left.
Wren had been close to shifting it out of place, her slightly heeled shoe pressing into just the right spot. Panic had surged, and I’d grabbed her arm and moved her closer to my damned bed before she could realize what she inadvertently stood upon.
Sure, it was where I kept all my coins when I left the Void, but there were also some other trinkets I hadn’t been able to part with over the years; a—now empty—wallet from a high-ranking official I loathed, a black gemstone that had been found beside me when I’d been left at the orphanage, and a single yellow ribbon.
I moved aside the board, careful when I reached inside. The ribbon was silk and smelled like citrus, the color still so bright after all these years. It’d also been my first theft.
I’d been eight, all hands and no subtlety, but my belly rumbled from the lack of food, and I knew the orphanage wouldn’t feed us that night. So I snuck into the northern side of town, desperate and half delirious.
Everyone had been dressed finely, out to worship the Fate, Day.
It had been so crowded, I blended in, barely anyone peering down at a boy eyeing the cart selling fresh pastries.
The owner wasn’t looking, his attention on his patrons, and I’d been prepared to make my move.
But just before I snagged a chocolate tart, a lilting voice interrupted.
“Hungry?”
I’d turned around, facing a young girl with her blond hair braided down her back. She wore a ridiculous hat that covered most of her upper face, but her smile had been warm, if shy.
I didn’t take charity, and I immediately frowned, ready to bolt, but the audacious girl snagged my hand in hers like she’d done it thousands of times and led me to the cart, fumbling behind her. I blamed my lack of strength on the dizziness.
“Two chocolate tarts, please,” she said to the baker, offering two copper coins.
He grinned down at her and then shifted my way, that smile morphing into a frown.
When he passed her the treats, the girl led me from the crowd and I was helpless but to follow, the smell of that delicious pastry overriding good sense.
“Here.” She handed me the wrapped pastry once we reached a less bustling part of the celebration. “It’s my favorite too.”
I snatched the pastry as if she’d take it back. I think I ate it right in front of her in seconds, not ashamed of my haste. It was the best thing I’d ever tasted.
She ate slowly, watching me the entire time from beneath the rim of her woven hat, which was decorated with an abundance of pink and yellow ribbons tied into bows.
Just as I finished, prepared to take off without a thank-you to the girl, a gust of wind stole her hat, sending it soaring into the air and across the street.
Without hesitation, I shot off after it, sidestepping the baker’s patrons and their nasty looks.
When I picked up the delicate thing, covered in stunning adornments and reeking of wealth, my hands twitched. The girl had given me a smile and a pastry. Two things that would make me grin for weeks—not that I showed my joy in public.
With nimble fingers, I snagged one of the yellow ribbons and tugged, breaking the knot tying it in place. I shoved it in my pocket before returning to her, the girl standing in the same place, trusting I’d come back.
My heart had pounded loudly and my nerves were so frayed that I barely glanced at her as she took the wayward hat in her hands. I’d never stolen before, even something small, and guilt ate away at my insides.
“Thank you,” she said. “Mother would’ve killed me if I lost this.”
By the time I glanced up, the hat shielded her eyes again. I wished I’d seen all of her.
I grunted in reply, not trusting my voice.
I had to run, get out of there before they threw me back into the Void.
I’d caught too many looks of suspicion. In fact, a broad-shouldered man wearing the nicest tweed suit, and a woman with long blond hair were headed our way.
The girl seemed to sense them and turned, shouting and waving.
I knew they were her parents, and by the way the man glared at me, he didn’t wish for his precious daughter to speak to someone like me.
With her back turned, I ran, shoving through the people mindlessly celebrating and indulging in sweets, not stopping until I made it back to the Void.
It was only today, when I’d seen that yellow ribbon in her hair, that the pieces of memory came back into focus. The girl had smelled like fresh citrus and notes of vanilla.
The same notes I’d detected on Wren when I’d gotten close to her in the alleyway.
Folding the ribbon, I placed it back inside the empty space and tugged the board over my treasures.
Without a doubt, I knew Wren had been that girl who’d shown me kindness.
And she’d also been my first theft.
Apparently, I hadn’t stopped taking from her.
“Let me get this straight.” Ruby sat beside me at Cap’s bar, swishing ale in her glass as she appraised me. “You and the ward princess went on some covert mission to break into the Registry of Magical Gifts, and you found a secret room full of records about the missing people from the Void?”
“Yes,” I grumbled, snagging my whiskey glass and taking a generous sip. It was after twelve.
“And she came with you?”
I frowned. “Yes. I thought we covered that. I originally planned to get information on the high-society members without gifts. She was going to pick through suspects afterward.” If anyone would know of these upper-class frauds, it would be her.
Ruby cocked a black brow. “Then you brought her here. To the Void. To your room.” It wasn’t a question.
Hell, even Ruby had never been inside my private space. The small room wasn’t much to look at, and the only thing worthy of hanging didn’t cost anything—that stupid postcard I’d found at the orphanage as a child. It was just a place to sleep.
Liar.
In all my years, I’d never permitted anyone to enter. Never allowed anyone to see where I rested my head and lowered my guard. My safe place, however barren, belonged to me.
Now it smelled like citrus and vanilla.
Like her.
Ruby rolled her eyes and placed her glass on the bar.
Facing me, she said, “Damien. I know you—well, as much as you let anyone know you—and you look miserable. And I don’t think it’s because of the documents you found.
That information you shared immediately.
I had to practically threaten you to squeeze out Wren’s assistance.
” She placed a hand on my shoulder. I repressed the desire to fling it off.
It was a comforting gesture, something most people would embrace, yet I loathed being touched, always had.
But again, there had been one exception…
“I just don’t get why you didn’t go yourself and then show her the findings,” Ruby continued, unaware of my roaming thoughts.
That damned ribbon hidden beneath my floorboard tugged at me, and I had the idiotic urge to take it out again today before meeting my friend.
It didn’t change anything.
“I brought her as a distraction in case anything went wrong,” I said, and lucky for me, she’d been quite the distraction. Maybe too much, judging by how the attendant had trailed after her like a lost pup. The grip on my glass tightened.
“But you have a gift—”
I silenced her with a finger to her lips. “Discretion isn’t your strong suit.” She’d been about to shout for all the Void to hear that I had magic. I’d be a dead man walking.
But Ruby wasn’t familiar with my mirror’s failures of late. How it seemed to work only in Wren’s presence. I wouldn’t open up and reveal that flaw. Ruby kept my secret all these many years—my gift itself—and I should be able to tell her of its flaws, but my lips refused to release the truth.
She took another few gulps of her drink before signaling Cap for another. Ruby could drink grown men under the table. “I think there’s something you’re not telling me,” she accused. “You’re more”—she motioned at me—“broody and sullen than normal. Which is saying a lot.”
“I’m a ray of sunshine,” I muttered. Which was a mistake. Sunshine.
I’d been pissed when Wren apologized for not knowing how bad it got in the south.
How earnest she’d sounded. People tended to feel bad right before forgetting about it entirely, and I bet she’d do the same.
I didn’t need some highborn lady sweeping in like a savior for my people.
But she had the means to at least ask her father, I thought.
Though if it hadn’t been for her gift being stolen, she would’ve gone on with her life as normal. Totally oblivious and uncaring.
“There you go again.” Ruby carved through my muddled reflections like a blade. She released a whine. “Just tell me.”
“No.”
“You’re the worst.”
“And you’re a busybody,” I grumbled, finishing my drink.
How would I work with Wren after yesterday?
Was she genuine? And if so, could I forgive her ignorance?
Her father played a large part in this somehow, and I hesitated to think she’d stand up to him.
Blood was blood, and while she’d acted horrified to learn he’d been in that room filled with documents of the dead, she could easily slip back into a state of denial.
The worst part was, I trusted her, and I’d done it too easily.
“You get grumpy when you keep things from me,” Ruby insisted, her voice turning chipper.
“I’ve always told you, it’s not good to bottle that stuff up, yet here you are, moody and broody, and ‘Don’t bother me, I’m dangerous and mysterious.
’ ” She mirrored my expression, even going so far as to slump in her seat and glumly sip her ale.
“There are people dying, Ruby,” I said firmly, locking eyes. “I’d stop worrying about me and focus on that.”