Chapter 4 #2
She could see Elric behind Sybil’s shoulder, that shit-eating grin only spreading wider. And then, like the absolute child he was, he raised a hand and flipped her off.
“Sybil,” she said, making sure her tone was reasonable and mature. “I need you to look away while I punch the man behind you in the throat. When he has finished writhing on the ground in agony, I will treat him like a god… if he behaves like one.”
Sybil sighed and stepped away from the two of them.
Pinching the bridge of her nose, she shook her head.
“I wash my hands of you both. I have a great-grand-cousin two or three times removed here that I would like to check on. She’s not a witch, don’t worry about that.
But it would be nice to see her and her little ones. ”
“You’re not coming to find the witch with us?”
Sybil shook her head with a soft smile. “I think meeting a god and a gravesinger will be more than enough of a surprise for her. Nyx, are you coming with me?”
The familiar gave a little chirp and hopped from Jessamine’s shoulder to Sybil’s. And with that, the witch and familiar disappeared into the crowd.
Jessamine had mere moments to get her bearings before she was struck by the realization that she felt at home here.
These weren’t the dank and dirty streets of the Water District.
No one surrounding her was covered in smoke or dust from the factories.
Everyone was in silk and satin. The latest fashions whirled in colorful streaks all around her.
Vendors offered gems that put her royal jewels to shame.
These were the people she used to see every day as she fulfilled her duties in the palace—and everyone was looking at her like she didn’t belong.
Jessamine felt every streak of grime that covered her skin. She could sense how tangled her hair was, and how awful it must appear, like billowing smog that followed a dirty cretin who had wandered into their home.
Even the buildings seemed to lean away from her, as though the very walls were afraid she would put her grimy hands on them. What would happen if she leaned against one? Would she leave behind a smear of filth?
Looking down at her feet was easier than seeing the expressions of all these clean and glorious people. But even the streets were perfect, as if dirt was afraid to mar this place. Closing her eyes, she focused on her other senses.
The Pleasure District smelled like rosewater and lemons. It wasn’t a strong enough smell to make her head ache. It was light and airy and oh so perfect in every single way.
She’d been to the Pleasure District when she turned sixteen as a gift from her mother.
The experience was supposed to be her first adventure as a woman.
She’d walked these streets and not a single person had looked at her with anything other than adoration and perhaps the slightest amount of jealousy.
Even now, she could remember the slide of her silk skirts against her legs.
She’d worn a pretty lavender dress that day, with sleeves that hung off her shoulders and a bodice that hugged her waist so perfectly it almost gave her curves.
Her hair had been twisted up on her head in immaculate braids, and one of the makeup sellers had complimented her on her fine complexion.
Now, she was little more than a worm beneath their feet.
Elric’s arm coiled around her shoulders and tugged her against his side. “Come on, gravesinger.”
She tried to build confidence around herself. “To find the witch?”
“You are better than every person here. They do not know that magic runs in your veins. They do not know that we are mere steps away from starting a coven of witches who will make them quake under their thin sheets. And they do not know that you have a god at your beck and call.” He leaned down to press a kiss to her temple, lingering against her skin.
“They do not know the danger they put themselves in for looking at you as though you are anything less than a goddess.”
Heart racing, she followed him through the streets of gold and silver. More and more people gawked, but that was all right. Eventually, they crossed into a more residential area where there were less judgmental stares and more people moving about their day.
“Do you know where we’re going?” she asked, her voice catching in her throat.
“I can find a witch anywhere she hides from me,” he replied.
At last they stopped in front of a house.
Or a sort of house. In truth, it looked more like a birdcage.
Great pillars stretched up and over the structure that was inside the cage itself.
Even a small ornament at the top made it look like some giant could pick it up and move the whole thing.
A very pretty front garden filled her senses with the strong scent of peonies.
“Here?” she asked, peering through the giant cage at the tiny cottage within. Beautiful, as everything in the Pleasure District was. But entirely unexpected.
“Here,” Elric repeated. “This is where our witch lives.”