Chapter 10
POV: Callum
“I don’t have two rooms. The Falcon Inn burnt down yesterday, and we’ve had to accommodate so many people.” He stopped, then leaned forward. “There’s a fight tonight,” he whispered, then straightened. “All I can offer you is the single room I have left,” Lennox explained.
The Falcon Inn was the largest in Mount Pinnacle, and I doubted we’d find accommodation elsewhere. I glanced back at Sorsha, clutching Mabel’s bridle as if it were her lifeline. I’d take the floor and leave her the bed.
“Fine. I’ll take it—if you can find room for my cart and horse.”
“That’s no problem, Master Sullivan.”
“Good.” I paid and hurried back to Sorsha.
The groom came running, and for a moment, I caught the flicker of stubbornness on her face before she reluctantly handed over the bridle.
“I’ve stayed here many times. I promise you, Mabel won’t be mistreated,” I murmured.
She nodded, then slipped her hand into mine. “Where to now?”
“All the best stores are in the market square.”
I led her through the crowds, stopping often as something caught her eye, shielding her with my body so she wouldn’t be jostled, but never once letting go of her hand—the hand she’d so readily slipped into mine.
My gaze swept the street, not just out of habit, but hearing there was a fight tonight made me wary. Old ties had a way of resurfacing, and this city carried too many ghosts of another life. A life I didn’t want touching hers.
The noise, the press of people, the crackle of energy all around… it stirred memories I didn’t want to recall.
“Meat pies,” a vendor bellowed, loud enough to startle Sorsha, nearly knocking me into another passerby.
Grinning up at me apologetically, she shrugged her shoulders and tilted her head toward the stall.
“Do you want one?” I asked.
She nodded eagerly. “I’ve never had one.”
How had she survived this long? From what I’d seen, she had a healthy appetite—if they’d been reliant on the money she earned, there couldn’t have been much variety. Thanks to the double dose of tea, the rage curling in my belly dissipated as quickly as it rose.
“Two, please,” I ordered.
“This one,” Sorsha pointed at one that was marginally bigger than the others, “and this one.”
The vendor grinned and wrapped them, then winked as he handed them to her. “Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be going hungry. He better keep you well fed.”
Sorsha straightened her spine and pursed her lips. “He does, and he’s the best man ever.” With a little hmpf, she turned away, earning a chuckle from the vendor and a grin from me.
Pride swelled in my chest at the way she defended me so fiercely, as if I were worth standing up for. That simple, stubborn loyalty warmed me more than the sun on my back.
She passed me one of the pies and unwrapped hers, taking a too-big bite that nearly scorched her tongue. With her mouth open, she fanned the air in front of her face, cheeks blooming red before she spun away from me in embarrassment.
Resting my hand on her shoulder, I admonished playfully, “Careful, it’s hot.”
She shot me a surly look that said my warning was far too late and entirely unnecessary.
“You shouldn’t have shared so much of your breakfast,” I added.
“I couldn’t help it,” she admitted. “It was like all their heads snapped up to watch me take a bite.”
That was true. Most of the people we’d given a lift were on the breadline, hoping to find a day’s work in Mount Pinnacle.
She knew hunger too well. Again, a spark of rage tried to build in my belly at the thought, and I hurriedly pushed it away.
We wandered around the square until I spotted Gordo—one of the old pit bosses. My stomach tightened. Without a word, I pulled Sorsha into the nearest store, a place selling dried fruit.
“Hello,” the attendant greeted warmly from behind the counter. “We have dried apricots, dates, and prunes.”
Sorsha tilted her head up at me, a small frown tugging her brows. “I haven’t eaten things like this,” she whispered.
Of course not. Her world until now had been bread crusts and scraps.
“We’ll take a packet of each,” I ordered.
Her eyes lingered on the shopkeeper’s hands as he wrapped the parcels. “What if I don’t like them?” she murmured.
“Then you can give them to beggars,” I told her. “Better they go to someone who needs them.”
Her lips curved into a tentative smile. “Okay.”
I glanced out the shop window to make sure Gordo was gone when I spotted a jeweler’s across the square. Threading my hand in hers, I pulled her into Master Harlan’s Fine Goods.
As soon as we crossed the threshold, Sorsha froze, her eyes flying to mine in silent question.
Undeterred, I led her straight to the counter.
“How can I help you?” the attendant asked, his smile a little too polished.
“Let me see your rings,” I said evenly, then added, “Gold.”
Sorsha gasped, tugging on my arm in disbelief.
“Right away.” The man turned to a shelf behind him and brought down a tray, setting it carefully on the counter.
I pulled it closer, inspecting the rows of shining bands, ignoring the way Sorsha tried to catch my attention.
“What about these?” I asked at last, lifting a matching set that twisted at the top.
“A lovely set, you have good taste, Sir. I will give you a special price, two crowns.”
Sorsha gasped, digging her nails into my arm. “Two crowns?” she hissed, her voice urgent and sharp. “That’s two hundred loaves of bread…” She trailed off, shaking her head in disbelief.
Slowly, I set the rings back on the tray, though my gaze never wavered from her. “We’ll take them. Make sure they fit, and if not, size them as a courtesy.”
The attendant immediately produced a card marked with different-sized holes. “If you please, Mistress.” He extended a hand toward her, but I didn’t want this smarmy fellow touching her. I plucked the card from his fingers.
“Let’s see what size you are,” I murmured, my voice softer now. Sorsha only gaped, still caught between wonder and disbelief.
Guessing her size by sight alone, I slipped her slender finger into one of the holes. It slid in neatly. “This one,” I said, reading the number aloud.
The attendant leaned forward, eyebrows lifting in surprise. “That’s exact,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “Not many men can guess so well.”
I measured my own finger, and the jeweler’s face soured as he studied the card.
“Ah… Sir, I’ll need considerably more gold to accommodate your size. Surely you don’t expect me to take a loss?”
I let the silence stretch until he began to fidget, then leaned forward just enough for him to feel the weight behind my words.
“Take the gold you save from my wife’s ring,” I said evenly, “and use it for mine.”
His mouth opened, then shut with an audible click. He nodded briskly, all false smiles gone.
Beside me, Sorsha blinked up in disagreement. To her, two crowns were a fortune. To me, it was nothing compared to what she deserved.
“Have them ready by tomorrow,” I instructed.
“Tomorrow? That’s impossible!”
“I can go somewhere else.” Slapping the money on the counter, I slipped an arm around Sorsha’s waist as we left the store.
We hadn’t gone five paces before she yanked me to a stop, eyes blazing.
“Are you crazy… or just rich?”