Chapter Twenty-Two
The Three Bells
Eleanor threw her sheer plum gown into the hallway basket for Julia to collect in the morning and walked naked into her room.
She counted the others shutting their doors behind her, knowing they’d be heavy sleepers.
Despite the late hour, the furniture creaked and squeaked, intermingled with sounds of pleasure coming from the client rooms below, although the courtesans and most ladies had finished working for the night.
Dawn was still a while away, and few people stalked the streets when the night was at its darkest. This suited her perfectly, as she was heading to a place in Breninsol that not many knew of, nor would many dare to tread.
She removed the back panel of the lone wardrobe, along with the loosely fitted stone, and retrieved the bundle of her old fighting gear.
As she systematically pulled on and attached each item to her body, she grew a sense of safety and remorse.
It was a simple set of leathers, and time had given it a beating.
She had focused her repairs on the leathers and boots rather than the ragged tunic, which she was sure wouldn’t last many more wears.
Like a lot of things these days, Eleanor shoved back the awareness of her once form-fitting dark brown leathers, now needing her to pull the strings and buckles an extra few holes tighter.
She also didn’t want to examine that she only felt herself relax when all her blades were covering her body.
Although, there was room for more weapons, as her vambraces and leg braces felt empty.
The decorative and shortest daggers sheathed at her hips would have to do, along with those on her thighs, the dagger concealed against her lower back, and the long knife tucked into her worn boots.
Once again, the boot’s sole was separating, and she knew the cobbler wouldn’t be able to repair it anymore.
Finally, she ran her fingers over the thin strips of metal concealed in the seam of her chest plate.
Eleanor couldn’t dwell on her bargain with the marquis, of all people. He wouldn’t follow through with his winnings. She was so far down his pecking order that he wouldn’t have thought of her since their brief card game.
She grimly hoped tonight proved to be useful in her search for the necklace’s origin and settle the sense of restlessness in finding some answers.
Before sliding out the window, she tucked her auburn braid under her dark cloak and pulled her cowl up to cover her mouth and nose, and then she silently dropped onto the backstreet behind The Ladies Grace.
The Three Bells was the most nefarious pub in Breninsol.
Nestled between Robert to be held and touched by loving, tender, soft caresses.
It was not for her. She wasn’t worth it.
Only those invited could enter this side of the pub, and the person issuing those invitations was the reason why the Three Bells was best left alone by the city guard.
Eleanor glanced around the back half of the pub, confirming that the crime lord was indeed absent, and cursed under her breath.
She had hoped he would be downstairs tonight.
She didn’t want to have to return another night, although there was another option.
It’d get her in a fair bit of trouble with the gang leader, but there was a small chance he’d find it amusing, considering their first meeting.
This side of the pub was a mirror of the front half, with shiny wooden panels covering the walls, screened booths creating a semblance of privacy, candlelit chandeliers trying to shed some light on the criminal clientele, and a roaring hearth aiding to cover the murmured conversations.