Chapter 9 The Art of Seduction
CHAPTER NINE
THE ART OF SEDUCTION
Now I had two bounties at once. And neither of them was going to magically appear in Lilyanna’s room while we idled the day away playing checkers. I left her behind after asking an unimpressed Matron to watch her, ignoring the irritating flicker of worry in my gut and headed out.
The market was easy to find. I followed the cries, calls, and raised haggling voices, my nose upturned as the wind carried the scent of roasted chestnuts and blackened swedes. After spending days trapped in the gray stone castle, I had to hover in the alleyway until my eyes adjusted to the colors.
Carts laden with sprouted cauliflower and bushy lettuce formed a meandering path while crates of potatoes and blood-red radish stacked ten high teetered over the crowd.
People milled around, some with wicker baskets looped around their arms, others with pockets stuffed with wares.
The scene was so similar to the one from my childhood, a pang struck my heart.
Only then I’d been the one dragging a sheep on a fraying halter over the cobblestones or carrying as many chickens as would fit in my arms. Not for the first time I wondered what had become of our abandoned smallholding.
Someone would have destroyed it as the wall ran straight through the land, but did they pillage it first?
Were any of the items in the market heirlooms of my past?
Young children surrounded by a bubble of raucous energy sat cross-legged against the front of the houses, dice and sticks thrown on the ground in front of them. A small pile of coppers sat ferociously guarded in a scrawny girl’s discarded hat.
Look at them closely, my dear. Siobhan’s voice whispered against my skin, tickling the top of my ear. The memory as clear as if she were standing with me now. One of them is a cheat.
Siobhan had taught me how to read micro expressions on someone’s face, a shift in body posture or an almost imperceptible alteration in voice pitch.
To start with it was easy. When we were at market and my nerves shot, my stomach growling, she’d move us to the side and stand close, one hand kneading my shoulder, her fingers never wavering, her support unbroken.
She’d toss a gideon in one hand, my reward if I guessed correctly and enough to last me a month.
I watched for a few minutes before it became clear.
The youngest of the group threw weighted die.
They wobbled on the edge before tipping in the wrong direction.
The group cheered in unison, color warming their pallid cheeks.
The boy grabbed the die and cupped them in his hands, ready to throw them again.
Secretly imprinting his thumb on the numbers he wanted to fall next, he transferred a magnetic magic marker.
The rest of the group muttered excitedly, unconcerned and unaware.
I could easily tell them, just a casual sentence dropped in passing. Siobhan would say, It doesn’t matter. You got your answer and now you move on. It’s simpler that way, no guilt.
I pressed back against the wall and tugged the hood of my cloak over my face.
If the boy remained this adept, his luck would continue.
If he were truly clever, he’d switch back for the regular pair hidden in the pleat of his trousers just before the group’s suspicions fell on him.
I wonder what other tricks he could do with that rare magic?
My blood magic was only good for one thing, a fact Siobhan had made crystal clear when she’d transferred the thread to me. But I’d made it work and carved out a life for myself. I’d been infallible until the Sheriff came along.
I rested my foot on the stone and scanned the crowd back and forth seeking the anomaly.
A true chameleon, he’d blend in with any and every crowd until he’d found what he was looking for and transform into what that person wanted.
I’d let him figure me out later, when I was ready. Eventually, I found him.
The Sheriff roamed through the towering aisles.
I wasn’t close enough to hear, but I knew the clink, clink, clink of his spurs would be rattling through the air.
A brown peaked hat and woolen cloak completed his ensemble as if to appear as though he’d trekked from the Highlands to sell his own wares and was just casually browsing his fellow countryman’s stalls.
He blended in so well, I couldn’t make out any defining features, except his boots. But it was him. He carried himself with the air of a ghost. No one noticed him and yet, they instinctively gave him a wide berth.
What was he doing here?
He paused by a crate of stacked potatoes and peered down at the produce, but his eyes remained fixed ahead.
I followed his gaze, and my heart jolted.
Clement stood in his usual wary pose—hand on the hilt of his saber and eyes rapidly scanning the market—with Bryn his mirror on the opposite side.
The prince had his back turned, perusing a stall of scarves and gloves.
His thick, satin suit of charcoal flowed down his lithe form, distinct against the hard line of Clement’s sapphire blue tunic.
My gut twisted, adrenaline snaking through my thighs.
Was he after my bounty? Siobhan had said others would be lining up if I failed, but this wasn’t his style.
He flourished at blackmail and seduction, not cold-hearted stalking.
He liked to play with his food before eating it, not swallow it whole.
As long as he wasn’t after Clement.
I shook myself. What was wrong with me? It didn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. Clement shouldn’t matter. He’d made it abundantly clear he didn’t trust me, so why was I still thinking about him? If anything, the Sheriff removing Clement would make my job easier.
Regardless of the Sheriff’s plan, I would get to the prince first.
I kicked off the wall, flicked down my hood, and skirted around the market, popping back in again so that the Sheriff would have a direct eyeline to me.
I sidled up to the stall, inserting myself between Clement and the prince.
I’d barely rested against the table when Clement grabbed my arm and spun me around.
“What?” he said, keeping my arm pinned, my body flush against him while he positioned the prince safely behind him.
“Tam,” he groaned. The short knife on my thigh jabbed against his leg.
He shook his head slowly and pushed my cloak aside, his warm hand running down my hip.
But he lingered, his fingers gently squeezing.
Something sparked between us like a flare of magic as he plucked the knife from the holster and pocketed it.
I shouldn’t have liked it, shouldn’t have submitted, and yet I offered no resistance.
He kept the grip on my arm, his face lowered to mine. “Why have you left your post?”
“I haven’t really.” I tugged weakly to free my arm, but both my body and mind were quite content to allow him this little bit of control. Or perhaps a lot more, under the right circumstances.
“Yes, you have. Your one job is to guard Lady Lilyanna.”
“Oh, calm down.” I yanked my arm free. “She’s with Matron. I tried to bring her with me, but she reminded me about that stupid contract not allowing her outside without the prince.”
“Yes, it’s dangerous.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m out alone.”
“Good.”
I barked a laugh. His lips quirked.
“Anyway, it’s a good thing I'm here, because I’m currently saving your fine ass.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “What?”
“I’m doing your beloved job for you. I’m protecting you.”
“You’re distracting me.”
I smiled coyly and fluttered my eyelashes. He raised his dark brows, the rest of his face unflinching.
“There’s a man following you. He’s been watching for at least an hour, trailing you around the market. He’s very hard to spot, so don’t beat yourself up about it. He’s practically a ghost.”
“Do you know him?”
“I know many, many people, Clement.” My smile widened as he pursed his lips. “But I can tell you, I also saw him hanging around the castle the other night. You know, when I accidentally bit you.”
“Yes, I remember.” He unfolded his arms, a hint of warmth loosening his muscles.
“He’s looking for a weak spot. He thinks that may be you.”
Clement growled.
“Joking!” I squeezed his bicep. “You’re actually very strong.”
He swatted me away, a crinkle appearing around his mouth.
“But I am looking out for you, in my own way. Maybe one day you’ll trust me.”
He grunted.
“You’re a man of many words today, my friend.”
As soon as his gaze ripped from mine to sweep over the market, chills raked over my skin.
He sighed. “I’m working.”
My attention settled back on the prince. He stood watching our exchange, dark eyes shining and a faint smile tickling his lips. I nodded in greeting at him, which was better than the weird curtsey-bow thing I’d done before.
“So, Tam, now that you’ve joined us.” The prince spread his arm over the stall behind him. “What do you fancy? Trinkets, jewelry, clothing?”
“I’ve not come here to shop,” I said. Clement elbowed me. “But thank you.”
The prince turned and dragged his fingertips over a pair of fur-lined gloves. “I’ll find something else for you then.” He turned and winked.
I blinked, momentarily silenced. Was he flirting with me? Or just being nice? Surely, he wouldn’t really buy me something in front of his guards and all these people. Whispers would circulate very quickly.
He turned back and trailed his hand over a collection of glittering figurines. I raised my eyebrows at Clement for help, but he chose that moment to scan the crowd over my head again searching for the Sheriff, his jaw set and body stiff.
The prince rattled a few gideons in his fist and handed them to the stooped man behind the stall. He plucked a palm-sized butterfly from the table and held it out to me. “Here.”