Chapter Fourteen #2
Alderic blinked at her and shook himself, as if he was finally climbing out of his own brain and rejoining her here in the present. “Do you have somewhere in mind?”
She shrugged. “There are plenty of cheap beds in the city, if you know where to look. Places where no one will give us a second glance.” Anonymity was like armor, when she was on the trail of a Hound. The bulk of the Hound-wardens were no doubt in Bleakhaven, but it paid to be careful, regardless.
Alderic gave a dramatic shudder. “And wake up covered in fleas, or worse? I don’t think so.” Despite the lightness of his tone, something in his gaze was anguished. “Where would you stay if money was no object?”
Lyssa stiffened, the past crashing into her unexpectedly.
When I’m rich was a game she and Eddie had played often.
It was popular amongst all of the orphans and urchins in the city, because their collective disdain for the upper class didn’t stop them from dreaming about what they would do with untold riches, given the chance.
What would you eat if you had all the money in the world?
What would you wear if you had all the money in the world?
Where would you sleep if you had all the money in the world?
The answer to that last one was easy. “The Plaza Alstroemeria,” she told Alderic, averting her eyes.
It was the nicest hotel in the entire city, and whenever she and Eddie had jobs in the area, they would watch the expensively dressed patrons coming in and out of the gilded doors and wonder what it would be like to spend a single night there, every luxury at their beck and call.
“Consider it done,” Alderic said, as if it was the easiest thing in all the world to arrange.
But as the pang of memory faded and Lyssa came back to her senses, she shook her head. “You know what? Forget it. They’d never let the likes of me in there. We should pick somewhere else.”
His brows scrunched in confusion. “Why wouldn’t they let you in? We can afford the rooms.”
“Have you seen me? I don’t belong in a place like that.
” How could she explain to someone like Alderic that it wasn’t the money that mattered?
It was the way she dressed, spoke, acted, thought.
She forced a grin onto her face. “Let’s save ourselves the trouble and stay at the Black Hart.
Their sheets are clean, at least. Well … mostly.”
Alderic raised his chin, his expression defiant. “You deserve better than mostly clean sheets, Carnifex. If you want to stay at the Plaza Alstroemeria, then that is where we are going to stay.”
“Give me your two most expensive rooms,” Alderic said to the front desk clerk, while Lyssa tried not to gaze up at the crystal chandelier gracing the lobby.
Electric lights, of course—only the best for the finest hotel in Warham, perhaps all of Ibyrnika.
Even the reflection of its light on the polished wood paneling was dazzling.
She looked at the patterned carpet instead, more expensive than any she had ever set foot on.
Her boots looked hopelessly dirty against the rich golds and dark blues.
The clerk looked up from his ledger, clearly delighted. “Certainly, sir. I…” His eyes darted to Lyssa and his smile soured. “Oh, dear.”
“What?”
The man’s expression was a mask of professional apology. “I’m sorry, but I am unable to accommodate your party as currently attired.”
“What do you mean?” Alderic demanded.
The clerk hesitated. Glanced again at Lyssa and then leaned closer, lowering his voice. “It’s the lady, sir.”
“What about her?” he replied, his tone going icy.
“She will need to change into something more appropriate, if she is to patronize our establishment. We have a strict dress code, in order to preserve the atmosphere that our guests are accustomed to, and—”
“Told you,” Lyssa said to Alderic, grinning to cover the disappointment she had no right to feel.
Of course they took offense to her clothes—she hadn’t expected anything less, even if a small, foolish part of her had hoped otherwise.
“The Black Hart it is, then—they’d take our money even if we were wearing nothing but burlap sacks, I imagine.
Brace yourself, though. It’s quite a walk from here to there. ”
But Alderic’s expression darkened as he glared at the hotel clerk.
“My companion is appropriate just the way she is. You should feel honored to have her in your establishment regardless of what she is wearing,” he said.
“And although she will be the first to tell you that she doesn’t need a ridiculous sod like myself to defend her, I must warn you: her methods of rebuke sting far more than mine, and are liable to leave a bruise.
So, I suggest that you make amends before she gets a swing in edgewise. ”
“I’m not going to punch him because he wants me to change my clothes,” Lyssa said, exasperated.
Did he really assume she solved all of her problems with her fists?
Then she remembered triumphantly telling him that the man who had destroyed her troll-fur coat would never eat solid food again, and realized that she hadn’t given him much of a reason to think otherwise. “Let’s just go somewhere else.”
“No.” He withdrew a silver cigarette case from one of his coat pockets, set it on the counter, and opened the lid.
It was full of gems—sapphires, emeralds, rubies—packed so tightly that the case hadn’t even rattled.
No wonder he hadn’t balked at the fee she’d requested when he hired her.
He kept three times that amount in his fucking pocket.
“Do you know what these are worth?” he asked the clerk.
“N-no, sir,” the man said, flushing scarlet, which suggested that he might have an idea.
“More than this hotel,” Alderic replied.
“Perhaps we should contact the owner, and I can make an offer. By morning my name will be on the deed, you will be fired, and the lady can wear whatever she wishes in the establishment we have purchased. Or,” he said, “you can apologize, allow her to remain as she is, and keep your job.”
“Yes, yes of course,” the clerk said. He turned to Lyssa, bowing his head. “I am so sorry, my lady. Please forgive me.”
“It’s fine,” Lyssa said through gritted teeth.
“Now, about our rooms?” Alderic asked, tucking the case full of gems back into his pocket as if it were indeed filled with something as cheap and of little consequence as cigarettes.
“I … I can put one of you in the Queen’s Suite, the other in the King’s.”
“I’ll take the Queen’s Suite,” Alderic said brusquely. “The lady will have the King’s—and I expect her to be treated like one during our stay.”
“I will see to it personally, sir,” the clerk assured him.
There were a few more arrangements to be made, papers signed and money deposited. Alderic declined the services of a bellhop, as they only had one pack apiece, and they made their way to the mechanical lift.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Lyssa spat as the lift carried them up to the top floor.
“You sound disgusted,” Alderic observed, his tone still curt.
“I am,” she said, glaring at him. “I can’t stand it when rich assholes throw their wealth around like it makes them any better than the rest of us. That man was just doing his job.”
“I understand that,” he replied. “But wealth is the only weapon I still feel comfortable using these days, so you will have to forgive me for employing it. I had no other choice.”
“There are plenty of other choices,” Lyssa argued. “One of those choices is right next door.”
“You didn’t want to stay in the hotel next door. You wanted to stay in this one.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me,” Alderic said with a sharpness that surprised her.
“You are prepared to lay down your life to kill the Beast, at my behest. If you want to stay in the nicest room in the city before you do it, it is my responsibility to see it taken care of, in any way that I can, regardless of what you think of me afterwards.”
“I’m not doing this for you,” she said, bristling, and—damn her—there was that urge to tell him everything, again. To bare her soul in a way she hadn’t done in years.
But Alderic saved her from herself by saying, “Right. You want to be a legend. Well, the King’s Suite of the Plaza Alstroemeria is undoubtedly fit for a legend.”
There was a moment of angry silence, pierced only by the grind of the lift’s slow-moving gears, until Lyssa couldn’t stand it any longer.
“I’m surprised you didn’t just offer to take me dress shopping,” she snapped.
“I would have, if you’d asked me to,” Alderic replied, glancing at her sidelong. “But you didn’t. And, anyway, you shouldn’t have to change anything about yourself, if you don’t want to. This is a hotel, not the palace.”
“They certainly seem to think they’re royalty,” she muttered, and he snorted in response, the tension between them easing a little.
Lyssa was still angry with him. Alderic was right—she didn’t need anyone to defend her, least of all him, and she resented him for the grotesque display of wealth that had just occurred.
But a not-insignificant part of her felt strangely pleased that he accepted her exactly as she was, regardless of what anyone else thought of her.
Stop it, she scolded herself, annoyed by the persistent affection that just wouldn’t die.
The lift gates slid open, and she stalked out into the hallway.
Their suites were a joined pair, connected by a door of rich dark wood, carved with a stag on the King’s side and a doe on the Queen’s.
“Yours is … nice,” Lyssa said as she and Alderic inspected the rooms. Hers was almost comical in its masculinity, with its chocolate-brown-and-gold wallpaper, heavy-handed gold ornamentation, and trompe l’oeil ceiling that gave the illusion of a temple dome.
It reeked of self-importance. Alderic’s, on the other hand, was all pretty pastels with white trim, lace curtains on the windows and embroidered damask surrounding the four-poster bed.