Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
CHAY
Luis, what's worse; someone Wildharvesting the Glow...or one of our own selling it from under us? —in a letter from High Magelord, Bearer of All, Gautier the First, to the First Guidelord, Luis
La’Angi Keep
Her hands didn’t shake as she turned the key in the lock of her father’s study.
She didn’t tremble when the clockwork sentry glowed a dark brassy copper across the metal band that ran at shoulder height across his door.
She hadn’t faltered when Inker Allison had procured a key no one had known about.
She’d do that later.
“Audrey seeks entry,” she said, the words slow and clear.
The tumblers in the lock stayed silent, the glow continuing.
Behind her, we all waited, Thomas a slab of human-shaped rock, Isolde perfectly poised, and Brian glancing up from the tome in his hands with a frown.
The only people I knew who could afford that level of security spell were Darrius and Kadan, and I’d never thought twice about it because I’d been spelled for entry on both.
The Duke, of course, would not allow his only child unsupervised entry into his study.
Her shoulders rose softly with a deep, indrawn breath. She held it in. I held mine, too, before letting it out slowly. The noise from the keep filtered up to us while the metal continued to glow.
“He must need to manually permit you access,” Brian said, sounding confused.
Audrey just waited, her head bowed. I hated that stillness.
There were plenty of watching-spells the Butcher could be viewing at that moment. If I’d known what glass or crystal or metal device the foci for such a spell might be, I would’ve stared straight into it. I wanted nothing more than to spit in that man’s face.
She’s your only child.
She deserved better.
Nearby, Brian shifted his weight and cleared his throat, glancing around.
The contract they’d re-drawn with the real captain all hung on her ability to use her family seal.
Brian had been so confident it’d be a simple matter—just picking up an item from another room, really—that I hadn’t thought twice about it.
Why would I? I’d been distracted by the Captain’s unsubtle admiration of Audrey, and figuring out if Audrey knew what was happening and was ignoring it…
or had no idea that the Captain wanted her.
The pirate and I had a bit in common, it would seem. Earlier, that had seemed like a fun thing to discuss with Audrey.
Now, she stood, shoulders bent, hands clasped, eyes on the ground.
I hated it.
Tumblers clicked into place and the glow vanished, leaving a bright band of gold across my eyes. The Duke, in his infinite wisdom, had found her request to access the room agreeable. I caught myself grinding my teeth.
“Did it…?”
Audrey ignored Brian’s hesitant question, opening the door and stepping into the Duke’s room. She was pale, her movements crisp, as if she were aware of every fiber of her being. The semi-familiar scent of a man I didn’t need to know to understand washed over me.
She busied herself finding the lamp. “Well, that’s a stroke of luck,” she said brightly to Brian. “Imagine how awful it would’ve been if we couldn’t get in!”
No one responded. The lack of conversation was only made more uncomfortable by the way the merchant cleared his throat and Audrey’s rapid movements.
There was nothing I could do but stand by the door while Audrey dug around a system that wanted to keep as much power from her hands as possible.
“Ah, of course,” I heard her say. “An infinitely sensible place to store it. I might just put the license together here, Brian, while you confirm that information about the cider? We don’t need to risk removing anything important.”
“An excellent plan, my lady,” Brian said, his voice as jovial as hers.
She was surviving now. I could hold her later.
It made me feel no better. While the subtle scent of the man meant nothing to me, I knew the unique cocktail of my father would probably have been a gut-punch if I caught a lungful of it. Had she spent much time in his study?
Had any of it been positive?
Some of it would’ve been, at some point. That was how they worked, some carrot and some spur.
“I’ve got what I need to further our negotiations around cider supply,” I heard Brian say. “How’s yours?”
“Almost done,” she responded.
Gratitude for that mercy swept through me. I didn’t count my breaths until she walked back out of that room, but only because I was too fucking stubborn.
She locked the door too hurriedly after herself, the keys clamoring in her hands and her skirts twisting about her feet. Impatiently, she led us away, the ink still wet on the paper in her hand. “I might have Storm saddled again and deliver this,” she said.
“No, no, that’s a runner’s task, my lady,” Brian said, shaking his head. “You’ve done more than enough. If the Captain was so worried, they’d’ve come with you to the keep.”
They’d tried.
“They tried,” Isolde said from her place at Audrey’s right.
There were times when I envied that woman.
Brian let out a surprised laugh. “I suppose that’s true. Still, don’t you think it’s a little below your lady’s station, mistress?”
“Who do you think such a task might fall to, then, master?” Isolde asked him, stepping aside to let Audrey and Brian remain abreast as the corridor narrowed for the defensible archway leading back to the keep proper.
A red-faced young woman appeared, flour on her apron and skirts in her hands. She dropped them as she saw us, straightening her posture and shortening her stride.
It was a familiar sight. Audrey’s shoulders pinched up toward her ears.
If I touched her now, she’d be tight as a drawn bow.
While I was glad Isolde had forced her to have a rest day today, I still missed the midday break in our activity to stretch and refocus.
As the woman came closer with whatever bad news she carried, I wondered if I might be able to pry Audrey away to walk on the battlements or sit in the garden.
Anything to get a little distance. Especially after she’d just plunged into whatever memories of her father she held.
“My lady,” the girl said, with a curtsey. “Apologies for the interruptions, but I’m unable to find Kaelson or Ettie, and Bernadette is—”
“What’s happened?” Audrey asked her, the worry in her voice making the interruption less jarring.
“Riordan—Riordan Grynthm? Widow Fitzherbert appears to have broken his nose. He’s demanding compensation or a trial by combat.”
I saw the slight lift of Isolde’s chin and knew the widow would have a champion that could gut Riordan in record time if she wished it.
“I see,” Audrey said, letting out a breath. “Where are the two of them now?”
“Riordan’s searching the keep for you,” she offered, clasping her hands. “The widow is in the infirmary, my lady.”
My belly clenched.
“Apologies, my lady,” Brian said, holding out his hand for the license. “Mayhap I ought to…”
“Thanking you,” she murmured, passing it over. “Isolde, please go see to the widow? Assure her that if she is in need of a champion, I will allow people to volunteer for that role.”
“She’ll have my spear,” Thomas offered, gruffly. “If she’s in need.”
It was so unlike the older man to offer anything that I couldn’t help but glance at him. He didn’t meet my eye, but I wondered who the widow’s late husband was.
Brian, with a bow, left the group to visit the crew of the Siren’s Ally, Isolde vanished to put a broken widow back together, and we set out to find the troublemaker who didn’t know when he was beat.
By the time we’d found Riordan, one of the small class of younger people who’d had wealth they’d seized reclaimed by La’Angi. He’d upset a group of people, caused further issues Audrey had to add to her list, and had the arrogance to demand, “You and what authority, my lady?”
Thomas and I didn’t agree on much, but getting Riordan into his room to cool off for a while was a show of exemplary teamwork.
I left Thomas guarding the door and tracked down my lady with clues from the people she’d encountered, eventually ending up in the steward’s wing as the sun dipped low.
When I saw her, she was sitting perched on the very edge of the chair.
Her long legs were drawn up while a single toe supported her weight.
There was a pile of papers beside her, a quill in her hand, and her eyes were on a piece of parchment like it was a loved one’s corpse.
She rocked back and forth in short, jerky movements.
As I walked in, her expression was already settling into the familiar polite lines, her long mouth slightly upturned, her golden eyes friendly, her brow smooth.
It was a symptom of the survival skills that had carried her through this far.
My heart twisted in my chest as her expression melted again into one of relief.
Every step I took toward her made that false helm of politeness melt away.
She was on her feet when I reached her, wrapping her arms around me.
When I buried my face in her hair, I could smell the Butcher’s study on her. Whatever scent he wore clung still. I couldn’t help but tighten my arms around her and crush her to my chest.
She shook. Her fingertips, so strong and nimble, scrabbled for purchase in my tabard and I wanted nothing more than to strip our clothes off so I could hold her, skin to skin, so I could feel the fibers of her muscles slowly loosen as she relaxed into me.
“Everything has gone wrong,” she said, despair in the words.
“I don’t know how to use this clause Brian found, we don’t have any pigeons that can take a message to La’Rea so I’ll need to find a rider, Riordan’s mother is writing to my father to ask for Riordan to marry me, and my soup had gristle in it. ”