Chapter 1 #2
“What is your name?” he asked, instead of answering.
His eyes held a vast well of impatience, but the hint of something else gave me the slightest bit of hope. Curiosity.
I cleared my throat, not wanting to give my name. The dried spit on my hem and scrubbed tomato splotches on my back and knees were reminders of what happened when I did.
“Marietta Winters.”
His eyes narrowed. “And what, Lady Second Winters, are you doing inside of my study at this hour?”
I stilled at his knowledge of my numbering in the family—few had cared to know before this past week. “I need help.”
“Don’t we all.” He negligently began coiling the spell wire again, his eyes sharp. “Why come to me?”
“I was told you helped those in need.”
“How interesting.”
My throat constricted. “Was Seventh—was Frostwood—mistaken? Have I wasted precious time in coming to you?” Dashed, just like that? I’d been foolish to hope—hope had long since abandoned me.
Yet I raised my head higher, determination outstripping self-preservation.
A stubborn mouse on a desperate quest. And like a bird of prey, he watched me.
He hadn’t stopped his predatory assessment since opening the door.
It was unnerving in more ways than one, and if I weren’t so mulish, I might have succumbed to the sharpness there.
His head tipped. “Surely ‘Seventh’ explained how I work. I rarely accept charity cases from members of the gilded.” His tone was mild, almost curiously still, even with the thread of arrogance running beneath.
I grasped the edges of my dignity. “He said your services cost ten thousand gold.”
“They do.”
“Or…” Here was where the danger lay. “Or three favors.”
He kept coiling the wire. “And did he explain what type of favors I might ask?”
“No,” I whispered.
A dark grin flashed across his face. “Good on Frostwood.”
The vaguely terrified expression worn by the seventh ranked member of the Frostwood family as he’d talked about Gabriel Noble flashed in memory. The man makes fae kings tremble, Marietta, be careful. If there had been another way…
The man dominated the space across from me, arrogant and cold. If there was another way…but there wasn’t. I was penniless. Hunted. Ostracized. It said something that the Frostwoods’ seventh in line had been the only distant relation to offer any aid—and a simple card, at that.
Gabriel Noble was going to make me beg. He was going to break my remaining pride. It was clear in his icy eyes.
But Frostwood had told me in no uncertain terms that if there was one person who could help, it was Noble. I had no choice. Not if I was going to save Kennen.
“My brother was taken by the night watch three nights ago.” I’d been awake and running for help ever since. Fear and abject obstinacy were the only things keeping me upright. “They are charging him with murder. A—” My breath hitched. “A constable said they mean to hang him.”
“The Vein Ripper.”
My head shot up. “He is not!”
“That is what they mean to hang him for, is it not?”
The faded red splat of a tomato stain glowed on the spell-worn fabric above my kneecap. I squeezed my eyes shut.
“News travels fast in my circles.” His voice was silk, velvet, and steel. “And even if it didn’t, it’s hardly a difficult thing to determine between your appearance, the timing, and your last name.”
“Then…then you know—”
“That your brother is Kennen Winters?”
“He’s not a murderer.” My lips pressed together.
“Of that, I have no idea.”
Silence sat like a stone. Noble seemed willing to let it gather moss.
But he hadn’t said no yet. “Will you help me?”
“Help you prove your brother innocent? Or help you avoid any more brushes with the locals?” He motioned to my dress.
“Help prove my brother’s innocence. You have to understand.” That pernicious spark of hope lit again. I leaned forward. “Kennen could never have done something like that. He wouldn’t hurt a soul. And he doesn’t possess the skill to destroy a mage’s magical veins. Dark magic is beyond him.”
“An illegal artifact, a stolen heirloom—there are ways beyond skill to accomplish such a task.” He began wrapping the wire around a spindle, as if I were an insignificant gnat and he too full of ennui to even swat me.
“Why not hire an inquisitor? Or an investigator to clear your brother? They are much cheaper, I assure you.”
His detachment prodded my anger—made me feel something other than soul-deep despair.
“All funds are going to a negotiant to help in court.” And wasn’t that a pity.
I had smelled the belladonna gin on the man from the doorway of his office.
But Ferris had assured me of his law credentials, and I’d stayed quiet for once.
Ferris wanted to help Kennen too. I just hoped it had been the wisest use of our remaining funds.
“And Lord Seventh of Frostwood pointed out that if anyone could help, it would be you. The payment of favors—”
“I repeat that an inquisitor or investigator would be much cheaper. In every way.” He touched the wrapped spindle and the wire glowed red. “What type of favors do you think I might ask?”
“I don’t know,” I murmured. The wire turned silver again. Two different types of magic, and he showed no effort for it. He could ask for anything. That had become clear the moment Seventh reluctantly repeated the terms of Noble’s agreements.
But I had little choice—my brother was going to hang for crimes he didn’t commit.
Law enforcement wanted to calm the public, not investigate.
They needed someone punished for the three heinous crimes.
Quickly. The trial would be a spectacle—enough of a sham to assuage the public that justice was being served.
And Kennen—young, stupid, darling Kennen—would be executed.
The mob would be delighted to burn a sacrifice to feel “safe” again.
I needed Noble, yet Seventh had been insistent that I be very sure of my willingness to sell my soul before asking the man for help. No one could get around Noble’s required vows, he’d said. No matter who they were, or what they were.
“I won’t murder or hurt anyone. I won’t touch dark magic.”
A glimpse of something like amusement passed through his eyes before disappearing. The feel of him grew larger. “Be assured that if I asked it of you, you would.”
The terror on my face must have been satisfactory, because he relaxed back into his chair. His eyes scanned me for ten tense beats of my heart. He gave a slight tilt of his head. “I doubt such actions will be necessary, but don’t think of setting terms. There are only my terms. Do you understand?”
A thread of tension uncoiled from my gut even as his statement about my future debt tied twelve new ones. Someone was going to help me. “And you will gain my brother’s release?”
He brushed a lock of jet hair from his forehead. “If I take your case and he’s innocent, yes. If he’s not, no, and you will still owe me the favors.”
Outrage rose in me, despite the fear. “How do I know you will be fair in determining his innocence? Better for you to simply proclaim his guilt and collect.”
He shrugged, as if we were discussing the evening’s menu. “That is a possibility. However, much as I’m sure ‘Seventh’ told you, I am my reputation. I doubt many would avail themselves of my services if I did that to my…clients.”
His lids dropped halfway over his eyes, and I shivered. Frostwood had said I could trust Noble with the job. That he was as bound by the vow as those he chained.
“If I take your case, you will not argue with my tactics. You will help me when I require it. You will do exactly as I say throughout. Everything I say.”
His gaze raked over me. Heat and ice skittered through me, battling between his words and the look in his eyes. My heart beat faster than I preferred.
“Marietta Winters, the question then becomes, do you accept?”