3. 2 #2
He wore nothing to help me identify him, but if Wrenton had called him master, he must be a noble or a devotee. His piercing grey eyes were focused entirely on Wrenton, and his face looked bored. “I’m not here for a chat. Give her the ring back and stop harassing her.”
I followed his gaze to the paling Wrenton at my back. “But it's stolen goods.” His voice quaked almost as much as his whiskers. “If I tell the House, they might give me a reward.”
The man in black shrugged. “Probably,” he said. “Or, you give her the ring back, and maybe I’ll talk Camriel into a discount.”
Wrenton’s eyes lit up from behind the spectacles. Already, his paleness was fading as a look overtook his face that I had seen more times than I could count. Desire. “You’d do that?”
Something flickered at the edges of my memory. I had heard the name Camriel before, in one of Talia’s lessons. He had to be important, but every nerve in my body was alert and I couldn’t think.
The mysterious master flicked up one eyebrow. “Wrenton. The ring.”
Wrenton had lowered his arm at this man’s entry, but his fist had not relaxed one bit in the time the three of us had been standing there. He looked at me, and I remained entirely silent. Whatever had provoked this man to defend me, I wasn’t going to ruin it by saying anything now.
Wrenton sighed and held his hand out to me, opening his sweaty fist. “Yes, fine. There you go.”
I darted my hand out and plucked the ring back, returning it to the finger that marked me as a bride, and not a thief. I saw this new man appraise the movement with a calculated gaze.
I ducked my head to both of them. To Wrenton, it was barely more than a drop of my lashes, but for my saviour and omen, I bobbed a hasty curtsy. “Thank you.”
Then I darted past them as quickly as I could, leaving their silence and wrenching the door open with both hands. The day’s warmth hit me again, and I pulled up my cloak against the dust dancing in the light wind. My heart tittered like a nervous drummer boy.
But I didn’t let myself breathe. The man might change his mind, and I wanted to get as far away from the Trunk half shadowed by the high houses, and half blinding corridors of sun.
Many of the vines crawling up the warm stone walls were withering under the intensity of this summer, and a lizard skittered into a drain as I took a left turn into a cooler alley.
I knew logically that I should just try the next place, but that whole interaction had left me floundering.
I wanted to be within the safety of Yona’s walls.
Men usually treated me with interest and intrigue, and whilst desire was normally their purpose, their respect for Ekris kept them devoted to my pleasure as well as their own.
To be treated as a common thief, to be summarily dismissed and even threatened—that was not the Dytho I was accustomed to.
Another naivety on my part; another reason why the deal I made was so categorically idiotic. But my self-flagellation was cut short by the sound of boots rapidly approaching behind me.
“Not so fast.”
I spun on my heel and froze.
My relief that it wasn’t a sunner was cut short by my recognition of the same masked man in black.
He was blocking my exit from the alley, and the way forward bore only one direction.
If I needed to run, he would catch me. I had no doubt about it, given the way he blocked out half the alleyway’s entrance with his body, and by my best guess his legs came up to my waist.
I swallowed past my fear, wishing I could skitter into a drain myself. “Thank you for your help, sir.”
The masked man tilted his head, and the sun bounced off of the metal part of his face. “Don’t you want to know why I helped you?”
What good reason could this man have to help a stranger? If it was truly an act of generosity of spirit, then why had he followed me? I took a step back. “Not especially.”
“Interesting.”
He paused, and his hands flexed at his side. He took his own step back, as if the act of it pained him. He was trying to put me at ease, and somehow it had the opposite effect, and set my heart drumming anew.
I studied his steady grey eyes for malicious intent, but they only looked determined.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“I’d rather not say.”
“Probably smart.” He pointed towards my left hand. “Where did you get the ring?”
I held my left hand to my chest with my other. “I didn’t steal it.”
“I didn’t ask if you did.”
“It was an engagement ring,” I told him, the words spilling out with a defensive heat I couldn’t suppress.
He raised an eyebrow. “And the engagement is no longer active, I assume.”
His voice was a mocking drawl, and it made my stomach clench in irritation.
I wouldn’t be baited by him like this. He was scaring me, but that was no reason to tell him everything about my life.
If he wanted to rob me, so be it. I glanced over my shoulder at the alley behind.
It was thirty feet until the next alley, and the laces on my left boot were undone.
I couldn’t run from this, or fight him. I had to hope his intentions were good.
The man cleared his throat and I jumped.
“Why not return the ring to him? Are things that bad between you?” he asked.
I scanned his face again. It didn’t seem like he wanted to rob me. Perhaps I would have to give in to this strange interrogation, and hope the answers were enough to satisfy whatever it was he was so interested to know.
I sighed. “He would just think I stole it off of him, too.”
This did surprise him, as I expected it to. His eyes narrowed, and the part of his brow naked of the mask wrinkled in confusion. “How could he forget giving it to you?”
I shrugged, and stared at the floor. I should just tell him. But there was too much shame. It was far too soon, even if the admission might stop whatever it was that was happening here.
“And if I made you an offer?” he asked.
An offer? My body froze.
I raised my head. “For the ring?”
He nodded. “What else?”
What else, indeed. He clearly didn’t know that this was the first time anyone had made me an offer for something other than my time and flesh. Was this why he had followed me? He wanted to buy the ring himself? “Why do you want it?”
“Wrenton said it was House jewellery. I’m curious.” He opened his black-gloved hand. “Can I see it?”
The man was five or six steps away, and didn’t make any move to close the gap. He waited, watching me with a cool appraisal. After a few seconds of hesitation, I pulled off the ring and approached, dropping it into his waiting palm.
My heart pounded hard in my chest as I retreated two of the steps. I didn’t trust this man at all, and yet, what choice did I have?
He stared down at the ring, not moving it or studying it closely. “Just as I thought.”
I swallowed, finding my voice. I was more than aware that he could leave with it now and I would have no power to stop him. “How much?”
He glanced up at me with a cursory look. “Two gold.”
It was a good sum. I breathed out. “That much?”
A donation of one gold would get someone an entire night with an Ekrissian.
Yona had told me I should expect to make a few silvers a night, which was good pay outside of the House of Love.
Two gold could buy me a couple of nice dresses to help win back Robar’s favour.
I had seen some peplos dresses in the agora—the great market of Dytho where all things could be purchased—silver-pinned at the shoulder and dyed in every shade imaginable.
They were cut shorter than I used to wear, but still close to what Robar had first seen me in at my House.
If I could become the version of me he had met that evening, it might be enough to jog his memory.
A hint of a smile crossed his mouth, and it shifted something in me.
I had thought him a good-looking man, but with the dark curling smile cutting into his skin, and the playful flash of those grey eyes…
He was gorgeous. That feeling of want came back to me for the first time since I had left Ekris’ House, followed immediately by guilt.
It was nothing more than an awareness, I told myself. I was still Robar’s promised love.
“If it is truly a House of Wisdom piece, it’s worth more than that in the right circles,” he said. “Though I doubt thieves like you could find those circles.”
I folded my arms. “I’m not a thief.”
That hint of a smile came back. “Will you take the two?”
I nodded.
“Good.” He closed his hand over the ring and dropped it into a silken pocket on the inside of his black cloak. Then he opened the coin pouch attached to his hip. As he reached into the purse, he paused, levelling me with a stare. “I’ll make it three if you give me your name.”
My name? I studied his eyes, trying to understand how it could be some kind of trick. But I couldn’t think of anything.
“Annie,” I said.
“Annie?” he echoed.
I nodded. “Short for Annabelle.”
Another smile drifted over his expression, but this one was darker and far more cruel. He plucked out the three coins, and held them out.
I moved forwards and opened a hand. He dropped the coins in, and slid his leather-gloved hand over mine to close it around them.
“See you soon, Annabelle,” he said.
Then he turned, retreating out of the alley and into the blinding sun.
My breath caught in my chest. “What’s your name?” I called.
But he didn’t look back, only whistling as he turned the corner and disappeared from sight.