Chapter Fourteen #3
“It is, isn’t it?” Alderic said, seeming completely satisfied with his choice. He set his pack down on the padded bench at the foot of the bed, and Lyssa set hers on the carved armchair by her fireplace.
“What an interesting door,” he said, standing on the threshold between their rooms and inspecting the doe on his side.
“It’ll stay closed, of course,” Lyssa said.
“Of course,” he replied, then turned to regard her with a gaze far too piercing for her liking. “Explain something to me, Carnifex. If you hate money so much, why did you want to stay here, of all places?”
She stiffened. “That,” she said, “is none of your business.”
His gaze only sharpened, as if he were ready to cut into the meat of her, pull her apart, and examine her inner workings.
“Fair enough. But your Hound-killing fee is certainly my business, and, as I am sure you will remember, it is quite substantial. Now that I have gotten to know you better, I find it hard to believe that you are charging me your typical rate.”
“Having second thoughts?” she teased.
“I do not begrudge you a single shilling,” he said. “But it is a hypocrisy I don’t understand.”
She shrugged. “Iron and steel aren’t free, Al.”
“They also don’t cost more than most people will ever see in a lifetime.”
Lyssa hesitated. She had thought she was done sharing anything of herself with Alderic, but the desire to confide in him was irritatingly persistent.
Maybe if she told him this one small thing, it would ease the strain of keeping the rest of her locked away.
“Overcharging the people who can afford it means doing jobs for free for those who can’t, without taking food out of our mouths,” she said.
“If by some miracle the Beast doesn’t kill me, I’ll be able to help a lot of people with your money.
And if I do end up in the ground afterwards, well …
at least I’ll know Rags and Nadia will be okay without me. ”
Alderic blinked at her, as if that were the last answer he had expected.
“Why, Carnifex,” he said finally. “I hadn’t realized you were so …
altruistic.” His tone was meant to belittle her, but there was something stricken in the way he was looking at her that he couldn’t quite hide.
When he raked his fingers through his hair, his hand was trembling.
“You know, a lot of people made you out to be a coldhearted shrew, but then you go and tell me things like that, or almost get yourself killed because a mermaid dared to hurt your dog, and I…” He stopped himself.
Glared at her like she had gravely offended him. “It’s incredibly frustrating.”
“My sincerest apologies for disappointing you,” she offered, and he blew out a ragged breath that might have been a laugh. “I didn’t realize that my personality would be such a problem for you.”
“Neither did I.” He dug around in his coat pocket and tossed her a coin purse, fat and heavy in her hand. “There. Is that enough for your magic metals?”
She unclasped it and peered inside. The pouch was filled with gold coins of varying size—she could buy everything in the entire shop, and likely have plenty left over. But the wretched look on his face unnerved her, and she said, “I don’t know. You’d better come with me, just in case.”
Now he did laugh, but it was entirely without humor, as if he knew what she was doing and resented her for thinking he would fall for it. “I have business of my own to attend to tomorrow,” he said. “So you’ll just have to make do with what I gave you.”
“What business?”
“Drinking myself into oblivion.”
Sometimes his honesty was harder to bear than an obvious lie would have been. At least she could convince herself not to worry about him, if he lied. “And why is that on your schedule?”
“So that I can pretend the alcohol is the reason I can’t think of a single happy memory. So that I can get the image of you bleeding to death out of my head. So that I can forget to hate myself, for a little while.” He retreated into his room. “Good night, Carnifex.”
Before she could think of something to say, he shut the connecting door.
Lyssa stared at the stag carved into her side of it, trying to shake the unease that clouded her heart, trying to shake the feeling that she should under no circumstances let Alderic out of her sight tonight—or ever.
But he wanted the Beast dead as much as she did. He knew Lyssa needed him in order to complete the sword and find the creature’s lair. She was fairly certain he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize their task, no matter how morose he got.
And after? her inner voice needled her. When you’re rotting in the ground beside your brother at long last, and Alderic has another victim to mourn? One he feels responsible for? What of him then?
The fear that took hold of her was so intense it scared her, and she shoved the thought away, as deep down as she could. She had never allowed herself to dwell on what she would be leaving behind, and she wasn’t about to start now.
The only thing that matters is revenge.
Maybe if she kept telling herself that, it would feel as true as it used to.