Chapter 3
Sebastian: The Search Is On
Oliver offered to go with Sebastian to the lower town to search for Lucy. “After all,” the duke said as he adjusted the disguise spell he put on anytime he left the palace, “it’s my fault that you have to go searching at all.”
Sebastian wanted to point out that if his friend wanted to take the blame for something, he could take the blame for suggesting Lucy in the first place.
But at the last minute, he bit his tongue.
The duke had been friends with Lucy, too.
It wasn’t fair of Sebastian to force him to cut off one of the few people he’d befriended since the fire.
“Where do you suggest we look first?” he asked instead.
Oliver tilted his head, lost in thought. “Well, there are a few werewolves who run the fruit stall in the southern corner of town. If anyone was going to give her a job, they’d be my first stop.”
Sebastian stared at him. “How do you know the market layout so well? You barely leave the palace.”
Oliver shrugged. “The royal treasurer keeps the applications and layout of the market in his office. While you were dragging your feet about heading down here, I made a quick stop to see if there were any likely places to find her.”
Sebastian nodded. “Finally, your big brain is useful.”
Oliver made a face. “Not really. If it were really useful, I’d be able to find a cure for Jo-Jo.”
Sebastian’s stomach plummeted. “She’s not getting any better?” he asked softly.
“No.” Oliver gritted his teeth. “Lately, it’s all she can do to get out of bed. The chilling lung disease is crushing the life out of her. I hoped that she could hold out until the next Great Exchange, but it looks more and more doubtful.”
Sebastian grimaced. Princess Joanna had gotten sick almost a week after they’d arrived back from Oliver’s last year at Farraday. It was frustrating to watch her get sicker and sicker, knowing they could do nothing.
Still, he tried to remain positive. Sebastian clapped Oliver on the shoulder. “Well, if anyone can find a cure, it would be you. You’re too all-fired stubborn for your own good.”
Oliver rolled his eyes. “And you have a silver tongue that could charm a dragon into giving up its treasure.”
“I wish that were true,” Sebastian said, heaving a sigh. “If it were, I’d be able to convince my father that I don’t want to be a royal guard.”
“Don’t give up hope yet,” Oliver said. “Maybe this assignment will give you an opportunity to show him your skills. Unless I miss my guess, the tailors that he and Lady Quinn are going to send on your mission are miles behind you. If you want to win the competition, all you have to do is show off what you can do. Then, perhaps, you can convince him to let you have your own shop.”
“And if it doesn’t work? I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but my father is not exactly a man who can be convinced of…well, almost anything.”
“Then we’ll figure out another way. I’ve already told you I’d lend you the money to set up the shop somewhere.” Oliver grinned. “If your designs are as good as I think they are—and Joanna says they are—then you’d make the money back in no time.”
Sebastian heaved a sigh. “Thanks, but to run a shop, I’d have to have someone I trusted to sell for me and time to make the designs. Plus, most of my designs are for women. Who’s going to want to buy a gown from a man they’ve never heard of?”
Oliver grumbled something under his breath. Then he shook his head and strode ahead. “Fine. Have it your own way.”
Sebastian jogged to keep up with him, his wings fluttering nervously behind him. “Oliver, I—”
The duke whirled on him, his golden eyes glinting with frustration. “You’re simultaneously one of the bravest people I know and one of the most cowardly. I know how much you want to make a go of your tailor’s shop, but you’re too worried about how your dad is going to react—”
“It’s not just me I’ve got to worry about. If I tried to go against my father, he could take it out on my mother, my siblings—”
“You forget, my friend, I outrank him. There’s nothing he could do to them I couldn’t…Argh.” Oliver threw up his hands in disgust. “Just forget it.”
Sebastian suddenly became uncomfortably aware of the eyes of the surrounding villagers, all focused on their conversation. “Why don’t we just put this conversation aside for another time?” he offered quietly.
Oliver opened his mouth to argue, but at the last moment, he changed his mind. “Fine.” He turned and continued walking. “The werewolves’ shop is just up there. Let’s see if they’ve heard anything about a redheaded woman looking for work.”
Sebastian’s wings fluttered nervously as he followed his friend.
He appreciated Oliver’s faith in him. He’d been the one to encourage him to learn the ins and outs of clothing design back when he’d first become interested in learning.
More than once, Oliver had been Sebastian’s dressmaker’s dummy and given him the opportunity to design gowns for Princess Joanna.
His unerring confidence in his abilities was one of the many reasons that they were friends.
But he was also heavy-handed and had the tendency to think he knew best, even in situations where he didn’t have the full story.
No, Sebastian thought. It’s best that I don’t give in this time. For Mom’s sake, if nothing else.
The two young men continued walking in uncomfortable silence. Finally, Sebastian couldn’t stand it anymore. “So, er…how did you hear Lucy was back in town?”
“Her brother, Judah, asked to see me when he was making the forestry delivery last week. He wanted to know if we’d seen her,” Oliver replied.
“And had you?” Sebastian pressed.
For a moment, Oliver’s brow furrowed in anger. “No.” Then, as quickly as the anger had come, it disappeared. He gave his friend a smirk. “If I had, I’d have dragged you into with me while I talked with her.”
A heavy ache settled in Sebastian’s chest. “She doesn’t want to see me. She’s made that perfectly clear.”
“So you say,” Oliver hummed.
“A moment of your time, my lords.” The two men stopped as a heavyset dwarf in a cleric’s robe stepped in front of them. “You don’t have coin for the poor, do you? We’re collecting today.”
Oliver studied the man for a moment, then nodded. “Of course. We’re always happy to help those in need.”
Sebastian caught his arm. “Oliver, no. We can’t—”
“I will not turn away a member of the clergy, Seba. You should know me better than that by now,” Oliver said quietly, before digging into the pockets of his breaches and pulling out his coin purse. “What kind of donation were you looking for, sir?”
“Just a few gold coins would help enormously,” the cleric all but purred. “My flock, they’re among the poorest and most destitute in the city. A few coins would ensure that the little ones have a cup of hot soup and a crust of bread tonight.”
“A worthy cause, wouldn’t you say?” Oliver asked, arching an eyebrow. He fished out ten gold pieces and handed them to the cleric. “Please take these with my blessing, sir. Have a good day.”
The cleric bowed. “Thank you, my lord,” he said, before melting into the crowd.
Sebastian shook his head as he watched the man go. “That was foolish, Oliver. You know the Sherwood Company and other gangs of reprobates have been using vagabonds dressed as members of the church to seek out worthy targets.”
“If giving a few coins to the church to help those in need makes me a target, then I’m fine with that,” Oliver said, shrugging. “Besides, I have more money than I could spend in this lifetime and the next. Losing what little I have in my wallet will not put much of a dent in that.”
Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“I won’t,” Oliver said as they came upon a well-built stall offering an array of fruits and vegetables. He smiled at the vendor behind the counter, a huge, brawny man with silvery eyes and wild, matted hair. “Pardon me, my good sir. I’m looking for—”
Before he could continue, someone in a dark red hood bumped into him.
“Excuse me,” a soft musical voice came from beneath the hood.
Sebastian frowned. That voice…it sounded awfully familiar.
But where did he know it from? Before he could place it, its owner straightened their hood and disappeared into the crowd of shoppers.
For a moment, Oliver stood in stunned silence. Then he gave himself a little shake and turned back to the stall owner. “I’m so sorry about that. I’m looking for a young woman with red hair. She’s said to be looking for work around here.”
“I’ve not seen anyone like that,” the stall owner growled.
“Are you sure?” Oliver pressed. “She might have come—”
“I said I hadn’t seen her,” the stall owner said. “And I don’t have time to wait around on people who are just asking questions and not putting a scrap of gold in my hand. So, scram, unless you want to buy something.”
“Of course. I—” Oliver frowned as he patted his pockets. “My coin pouch…it’s gone.”
“The person in the red hood. They must have stolen it. I told you not to give any money to that old coot,” Sebastian said. His eyes scanned the crowds before alighting on the same dark red cloak moving steadily against the flow of traffic. “I’ve got them.”
“Sebastian, wait!” Oliver protested, but his friend didn’t hear him. He dashed through the crowds, bumping into an old woman sharing the day’s gossip and a man with a wheelbarrow, transporting dozens of cabbages.
“Sorry!” Sebastian called over his shoulder as he continued his pursuit. The crowds surged around him, blocking his path. He muttered a curse under his breath before shooting into the air, his wings beating in time with his heart. He spotted the red hood a little way to his right and dove after it.
“Stop, thief!” he shouted as he hovered above the hood. The owner didn’t even spare him a glance, instead breaking into a run. Sebastian allowed himself a small smile. The thief stood no chance. He flew alongside them and said, “Give up now and hand over the coin purse. You’ve got nowhere to go.”
The thief ignored him, making a sharp right-hand turn into an alleyway filled with laundry drying on an array of lines that were stretched between two buildings.
Sebastian narrowly avoided flying into someone’s tunic before rising above the garments, his eyes still trained on the red hood.
The person in the hood ducked under the clothes without looking up at him.
But then, all at once, they came to a brick wall.
The thief turned, ready to run the other way, but Sebastian landed in front of them, cutting off their escape.
The thief’s shoulders sagged as they turned to him, still keeping their hood covering their face. “Please, just leave me alone,” they begged. “I didn’t hurt anyone and I really need them, I swear. I heard what your friend said—he will not miss a few coins. ”
“It’s not about whether he can afford to lose them. It’s the principle of the matter,” Sebastian growled. “Now, drop the coin purse.”
The thief muttered a few choice words and dropped the offending bag. They turned around and crossed their arms tightly over their chest. “There? Are you happy now, Sebastian?”
Sebastian hesitated. How did they know his name? And that voice…it couldn’t be… “Lower your hood and face me. Slowly now. No tricks.”
After a moment’s hesitation, the thief reached up and pushed down the hood, revealing a mane of distinctive, bright red hair and blazing dark eyes. Sebastian felt his jaw go slack as he whispered, “Lucy.”