Chapter 5
Chapter Five
EMORY
B y the time I made my way into the Haverford Inn, my feet and hands had gone numb, and ice crystals lined my eyelashes. My frost magic made me less susceptible to the cold but not immune. Long exposure and inappropriate clothing for the winter weather still affected frost elementals, just less than it would others. Someone without frost magic might have frostbite and be on their way to losing multiple toes and fingers by now. Neither would happen to me, but I was eager to get out of the cold. Warmth immediately spread through me as I entered the cozy space, full of high-top tables and plush leather chairs and couches. A huge crackling fire burned in the stone hearth. The large square hearth sat in the middle of the room, and I immediately wove toward it.
Two sky elementals sat at a table, wings spread out behind them as they bent their heads together. Other than them and the barkeep, the place was empty. I caught random bits of the elementals’ conversation. About the conclave. The frost queen. How she wanted to control the narrative about this shadow king, wanted to investigate more herself before believing the other rulers about his existence. A problem, but not mine to deal with, thankfully.
My gaze wandered to the staircase that led up to the second level, where the rooms were. They were somewhere up there right now, probably still sleeping. I warmed my hands over the fire, melting away the cold still lurking in my bones. I could only stand the heat for a few minutes before it became overbearing and I had to move away. Unsurprisingly, frost elementals weren’t big fans of fire.
Color had returned to my hands, and I wiggled my toes in my boots.
“Miss?” a voice said.
I turned to see a man standing there, skin and hair pale, as was common with those from Fyriad. His eyes trailed down my body, and I flushed as I realized what he was seeing: me in my thin, silver nightgown, with only my fur cloak covering me while I held the chest in my arms. I cleared my throat and set the chest down, then tugged the cloak tight over my shoulders.
“Good morning. I’m meeting someone here. Guests, actually. Maybe you could point me in the direction of their room?” He stared at me like he wasn’t sure what to do, so I kept talking. I raised my hand over my head. “Tall, skinny man with light brown skin and a penchant for talking nonstop.” I lowered my hand down to my shoulders. “Short woman, pale, freckles, wears her hair in a bun and is generally very serious.”
He continued to stare. “You’re Lord Growley’s wife, aren’t you? Lady Emory?” He scratched his head.
I inwardly cursed. Of course I’d be recognized. This had been a bad idea. I should’ve been more covert, at least used the hood of my cloak to cover my head. I might as well have attached a bell to myself that could ring out my presence everywhere I went.
I cleared my throat and raised my chin, adopting the calm, self-assured Lady Emory. “Yes, I am. I’m actually here on my husband’s behalf, meeting Driscoll Bayliss, the ambassador of the earth court. My husband wanted me to greet him myself and make his acquaintance.”
The man’s gaze flicked to my cloak like he could still see the nightgown underneath. My brain scrambled for some explanation about why I would come here on my husband’s behalf wearing nothing but a nightgown.
Unsurprisingly it couldn’t because there was absolutely no reason I’d do such a thing unless I was raving mad. Which I was starting to think might be the case.
His eyes widened, and my heart thundered. Oh, spirits below. I hoped he wasn’t about to send someone to my house, to fetch my husband. My dead husband.
Surprise hit me when a smile curved the man’s lips. “Ah, yes, my lady. I can be discreet about these things.” He winked. “I run an inn. These little... trysts are very common, and I’m a very good secret keeper. For a price.”
My mouth dropped open, and realization flooded me. “Oh, no. That’s not why I’m—” I stuttered, not even sure what I could say. He thought I was here to have an affair with Driscoll.
I’d never cheated on my husband. Guilt flared inside of me as an unbidden image of the bone collector flashed in my mind. Laying together side by side on a grassy hill. I banished the thought. I’d never done anything wrong.
I didn’t have a whole lot of interest in men, in being controlled by another one, no matter how good the sex might be. I peered at the innkeeper as he stared at me with that knowing look in his eyes and bit the inside of my cheek.
Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all. He’d show me to Driscoll’s room. He’d give me the alibi I needed. No one would know I was here.
My cheeks flushed red as I stuck out my hand, the pale blue bracelet jangling on it that everyone in Fyriad wore. He lifted my wrist and looked at the number, then nodded. “I’ll charge it to your house coffers, and I’ll make sure the charge is labeled as food from the market. Just so we don’t raise any suspicions.”
He wasn’t lying. He had done this many times before. Had an entire system worked out.
“Thank you,” I said airily. “Much appreciated. Now if you’ll show me the way?”
He nodded his head toward the stairs. “Room five. Have a good morning.”
My cheeks flushed hotter as I grabbed the chest of artifacts and made my way upstairs and away from prying eyes.