Chapter 14
Fourteen
ALLETTE
Dust motes spin in the shafts of gray light slipping through a gap in the canvas curtains. Tuath flood the streets far below. Some move with purpose, others meander, and a few beg from doorways.
After sleeping all day and most of the night, I feel like a new woman. My stomach lets out a hollow howl, the scone long gone. First, I need more food. And then I must buy something to wear other than these ratty old dresses. For the time being, I settle on the faded gray muslin and thick black tights from my pack. The color does nothing for my complexion but since these people seem to think I’m Tuath, I decide to lean into it for the moment. Fewer questions that way.
Downstairs, a pair of older men in wool breeches and coats hunch over two cups of coffee.
There is a free table near a window, so I take a chair and prepare to plan my day.
The same boy who filled my tepid bath the day before pops through a back door. When he sees me, he comes straight over, offering a toothy grin. “Mornin’, Miss. Hattie says to fix you up with something warm that’ll stick to your ribs before you go.”
I could kiss Hattie for remembering me. “That would be wonderful. Thank you.”
His grin widens. “Not a bother.”
Breakfast consists of runny eggs, limp bacon, and slightly burnt toast. I eat every single bite and consider licking the plate clean.
On my way out, I meet the woman who took me in—Hattie—and ask to stay a second night. Although she doesn’t look thrilled and mutters about “charity,” she agrees to let me stay as long as I can pay. Hopefully it won’t come to that, but I must be prepared for all eventualities.
I ask for directions to the nearest shop where I can purchase clothing. Thankfully, it’s not far. The shop she recommends has a beautiful set of blue-gray leathers displayed in the window. When I step inside, a woman watches me from behind a counter cluttered with pin cushions and bits of cut fabric.
Unfortunately, the leathers in the window cost a small fortune, but I find another pair on a discounted shelf. They look a little big, but if I can get my hands on a proper needle and thread, I can fix that right up. “How much are these?” I ask, swinging the hanger toward the shopkeeper.
The woman glowers down her nose at me. “Are they for your employer?”
Are what for my employer? The leathers?
“Well? Surely you must know it’s illegal for Tuath to wear Scathian attire,” she adds when I don’t immediately respond.
Wait a minute…it’s illegal to wear these clothes? A guard’s uniform, I’d understand. But pants and a jerkin? Anyone should be allowed to wear pants if they so choose.
I nod, giving my brain a chance to come up with a plausible explanation. “They’re for my employer’s daughter, actually. She is as tall as me, but a bit leaner in the hips.”
Although the woman’s eyes narrow, she nods and stretches her hand toward me. “That set is fifty pence.”
Good heavens. Do all clothes cost this much? I have no frame of reference since Eason bought my dresses in the human realm, and my aunt hired seamstresses here in Kumulus.
How much I’ve taken for granted in my life. I should’ve tried harder to stand on my own two feet instead of letting Eason carry me. I should’ve thanked my aunt every single day for giving me a safe home, clothes, and food.
The woman’s eyes widen when I withdraw a silver coin from my purse. But when she takes the money, her frown returns. “This is a human coin. We only accept fae currency.”
“It’s still silver.” Melt it down and stamp on the king’s face and it would be the exact same thing.
She shoves the coin back at me. “If this is all you’ve got, best be gone.”
Fine. I didn’t want to buy from someone like her anyway.
Three other shops deny my money. Three . I can’t even buy so much as a bread roll from the market with my human coins.
It’ll be fine. It’ll be fine.
Even if I have to find work to earn some fae coins, it’ll be worth it the moment Senan and I are reunited.
Assuming he is happy to see me.
He will be happy…won’t he?
Eventually, I stumble upon a thrift store selling secondhand clothes. They have no leathers, but there are a few dresses that are in better shape than the ones I brought. I find two that look like they’ll fit and carry them to the desk at the front.
“We don’t accept foreign coins,” says the man behind the till.
Why did I think this place would be different? I should’ve stopped the moment I left the first store instead of wasting an entire day on clothes. “Please. It’s all I have.”
His jaw works as he watches me. After what feels like forever, he huffs a sigh. “I’ll sell them to you, but it’ll cost two pieces of silver.”
Two? But… “One should be more than enough to cover the cost.”
“Exchange rate, ya see.”
Exchange rate, my foot. “That is extortion.”
His lips tug into a sneer. “You want the dresses or not?”
I don’t want the bloody dresses. I need them. For that reason alone, I pay the exorbitant price. The man “graciously” lets me change into one before leaving. The garment is too wide around the chest and hips, and the rough wool itches something fierce, but at least it’s clean and hides the pitiful state of my boots.
Although I detest the thought of going to the castle looking less than perfect, there is no other choice. I don’t have enough coin to get me through the week. I need Senan’s help.
Without wings, I’m forced to climb hundreds of steps to the pearlescent gates, where a horde of Tuath have gathered.
Thick clouds hang overhead, hiding the castle from view. A pair of guards wait on the other side of the closed gates, their faces stern, jaws flexed, and hands on the pommels of their swords.
“Please,” a Tuath woman cries, gripping the gates with white knuckles. “Please, let me through. I must speak with the king.”
The others behind her grumble their assent, a few waving their fists in the air.
“The king only meets with your kind on the fifteenth of the month,” says the guard on the right. “Come back then.”
The fifteenth? I can’t wait until the fifteenth.
“My little lad won’t survive until the fifteenth,” the woman sobs.
“Let her through!” a man near me shouts, making me jump.
“The king must make an exception!” bellows another. “There is wasting sickness in the burrows!”
The burrows are caves near Kumulus City, where the poorest Tuath reside. I’ve never been there myself but have heard horrific stories of extreme poverty.
Suddenly, my plight doesn’t seem as dire. I may not have much money, but at least I have some, and I still have my health. If I cannot get into the castle today, perhaps I can find more affordable lodging to make my money last.
The guard on the right shifts his weight, his dark eyes scanning the crowd. “The king does not make exceptions.”
Those gathered turn away, their faces gaunt and eyes hollow as they bump past. I press forward with my heart in my throat.
The two guards watch me, their expressions darkening with each step I take. Stars, they’re intimidating—and huge. I have to crane my neck to meet their frowns.
Wrenching my hands together, I don’t stop until the toes of my old boots meet the gates. I doubt smiling and batting my lashes at these two will help, but it certainly can’t hurt. “Hello,” I say with a brittle smile. “My name is Allette Rittey, and I’ve come to request an audience with Prince Senan Vale.” Speaking his name aloud is like taking a breath of fresh air after drowning.
The guard on the left rolls his eyes. “Not another one,” he mutters. “The prince does not accept visitors.”
I’ve come too far to back down now. “Surely he’ll make an exception for me.” I hold out my palm for them to see the silver scar there. “I’m his mate.”
The guard on the right smirks. “You think you’re the first to cut her hand in a pathetic attempt to gain access to our prince?”
Other women have claimed to be Senan’s mate? I mean, I knew he was popular in the kingdom, but to go to such duplicitous lengths is madness. “If you were to give him my name, you’ll see I’m telling the truth.”
One nudges the other with his elbow. “What does he do to these women?”
“Dunno. But I’d love to find out.” The other man looks back at me, his eyes as hard and unyielding as these gates separating us. “Look, you’re the fifth woman to come looking for the prince today and you’ll hardly be the last. Do yourself—and us—a favor and forget you ever met him.”
How am I supposed to forget the prince when our souls have been star-bound? I’ve thought him dead for four years, tried to move on with another, and still my heart and soul yearn for him.
Seeing no other option, I turn away. The air grows colder with each step as I descend back to the city far below. I can’t give up. Not when I’m so close.
But until Senan can save me, I must find a way to save myself.
That starts with earning enough money to survive.
I need to find work.
On my way back to the inn, I stumble upon an employment office. A man with a burly beard and deep-set eyes takes my name and details before telling me to head straight to the textile mill, a gargantuan gray building situated on the banks of the River Solace, whose towering smokestacks pump more darkness into the sky above.
A crowd of women wait at the high black gates, all of them in similar attire to mine. Not one returns my hopeful smile. No matter. I’m not here to make friends. I’m here to make money.
The gates screech as they ease open, revealing two men with thick, leather-bound ledgers waiting on either side of a path. Falling in line, I add my signature and follow the queue down to the factory.
For four years, I’ve survived in the human realm. Surely this will be easy in comparison. There are children who look at least half my age heading into the same factory.
How hard can it be?
I blink down at the coins in my palm, counting them a third time. Five coppers . Five . I labored for nine hours in sickly sweet air with only two fifteen-minute breaks for five bloody coppers.
This can’t be right.
My fingers have gone black from the dye they use on the fabrics, and the muscles in my shoulders scream every time I try to lift my arms. My feet and head ache, my back feels as if it’s permanently stooped, and yet I can’t even afford a room for the night on this wage.
I consider skipping dinner, but after missing lunch, I’m so woozy, I can barely stand.
On the way back to the inn, I stop by a café with cats roaming in and out of the open doors. A bowl of stew and a stale slice of brown bread costs two coppers, leaving me with three.
When I finally make it back to my room, I fall onto the lumpy mattress, too exhausted to crawl beneath the covers, hoping tomorrow is better than today.