Chapter 16
Chapter
Time moved without mercy, and the Gathering would soon draw to its close.
I needed more shipping deals. I would not lean only upon Aidenar and his Family, that was the last thing I desired.
I needed more contracts to raise our trade from its knees.
The coins set aside to keep all of us in White City dwindled.
The palace covered a portion of the cost, but I longed to stand apart and pay my people what they deserved.
I was my father’s daughter, Victor Veymaris’s child.
I had not inherited his cold reckonings, however I had taken his ambition and his iron will.
So, I decided to try my luck in a house of play, where fortune changes masters every night.
In Thalrock I often spent my evenings in taverns, playing cards with sailors and shipmasters.
I gambled no worse than a seasoned player.
I usually benefited from my opponents dismissing me as a harmless girl.
Roderick had said that Marcus de Vris, one of the greatest traders in White City, was unreachable to normal people. Except he was a regular at the Black Lily - the house of play and sin. If there was a narrow chance to catch him, it would be there.
I had no intention of bowing to his guards, asking for an audience, or waiting for his mercy. If Marcus held a weakness, I meant to set a hook in it and take the old road to do so.
I dressed in a close-fitting black suit that marked my figure.
I opened the neckline farther than I wished, near to my navel, and every inch of bare skin felt a betrayal of myself.
Desperate days called for desperate measures.
I bound my hair high, and a few red strands fell against my face, lending me a hunter’s edge.
In the mirror I saw a woman whose smile promised and whose gaze warned.
I even added some blush, that I borrowed from Mirabel, to my pale cheeks. I had never seen myself like that.
“Who would have thought it would come to this,” I murmured to my reflection, and then I went.
The Black Lily was a house of sin, where rich merchants, lords, and gamblers forgot their morals faster than they forgot their wives.
Golden lamps cast warm light across black marble floors, the smoke of pipes drifted beneath the ceiling, and laughter tangled with curses and the chime of coins.
Roderick walked at my side, dressed in stern simplicity, like a grim guardian sent to keep me from drowning in that river of temptations.
He kept his counsel, I kept mine, yet I felt his gaze sweep the hall for threats.
We stepped into the great room.
Marcus de Vris sat at a card table, sprawled like a king among vassals.
A heavy sapphire ring burned upon his finger, a wine cup stood beside a mound of coins.
He wore the face of a man who had seen too much and purchased more.
His gaze slid over every woman in the hall like a hand across velvet.
My body drew taut. Time to enter the game.
I let my fingers drift across the cloth of my suit, set it just so, and moved toward the table.
“Wish me luck,” I cast over my shoulder to Roderick.
“I would rather wish you prudence, my Lady,” he muttered.
But I no longer listened. As a man rose from the ebony table, I noticed the other player.
None other than Aidenar Cavareth. He lounged there, careless, with his white shirt unlaced, rolled up sleeves, and a cup in his hand.
The smile he wore was the very one he chose whenever he wished to rouse my temper, a lazy show that hid something sharper beneath.
His silver eyes flashed when he beheld me.
Surprise cut his face for a moment, then he smoothed it and revealed nothing.
His presence did not help me. For a breath I could not tear my gaze from his chest, from his hands turning the stem of the cup.
I gathered myself. I had not come here to fantasize.
Marcus lifted his head when I stepped into the lamplight. His eyes gleamed, first with surprise, then with interest.
“What a wonderful surprise,” he drawled, setting his cards aside. “A red-haired siren among sharks.”
I smiled, though I longed to scoff. “Perhaps I came to hunt the sharks.”
Marcus laughed low and motioned me to a chair.
A seat opened, for a merchant cursed and vanished into the crowd.
Before I could pull the chair back, a girl tried to settle herself upon Aidenar’s knees.
Her hands wandered across his chest. He caught her wrist and set her aside, light as if she weighed nothing.
“Not tonight, sweetheart. Seek some soul in need of comfort. I have my diversion for tonight.” He did not spare her a glance. He looked only at me.
The play began.
Three pairs of hands, mine, Aidenar’s, and Marcus’s, drew cards and tossed coins to the middle of the table. The stakes climbed with each round, and with them the strain. My purse grew lighter, my pulse quickened.
I won the first hand. The second went foul, and Marcus raked my coins away. The next few games were a dance upon a knife’s edge, sometimes better, sometimes worse, and ever the wagers rose.
Aidenar was sitting beside me. Watching from the corner of his eye. At times he raised a brow, at times he toyed with his cup, at times he sent a short and ironic word, as if to remind me that he was noticing my every move.
Marcus’s smile lengthened, and his look was that of a wolf keen on blood.
“You are a hazardous, redhead. Not every woman has the courage to wager all,” he said, slipping a coin between his fingers and casting it upon the heap. “I wonder how much courage you shall have to lose.”
I tightened my hold upon the cards and schooled my face.
A pair of kings burned my palms like heated iron.
My fingers slid upon the figures, yet I kept my face unshaken.
Marcus’s smile curled beneath his dark beard.
He was around forty years old, with the stare of an old fox, and hands trained to hold a cup and a woman’s hips.
“I think the time has come to raise the stake beyond a pile of coins. Say, a contract for four transport runs to White City,” I said, letting the words fall like bait.
Marcus snorted and shook his head. “Two. I risk too much as it stands.”
His gaze wandered over my meager stack.
“The trouble is, little siren, you have nothing in return.” He smiled, then added, drawing out the words, “Though, looking upon you, I fancy you hold far more than you show.”
I did not lift my eyes. I kept them upon the table, upon my cards. But from the edge of my sight I saw Aidenar’s knuckles whitening upon his cup. Then his voice cut through my thoughts.
“We play the three of us,” he said, chill and clear, pinning Marcus with silver eyes. “Do not barter what I don’t require.”
He did not require me. The words shouldn’t have meant anything to me. I should have felt nothing. Yet something in me sank. I didn’t know why he said it. Was he so eager just to win more money?
The air went tight. I gritted my teeth and offered the last treasure I possessed, the jewel my mother had given me, our Family sapphire the size of a walnut, blue as the sea that bore me.
“What do you say now?” I asked, lifting it so the lamplight danced within the stone.
Marcus wet his lips. Greed lit his gaze.
“Let’s play this hand to its end,” I said. “And in the next, you shall name the stakes.” I set the sapphire necklace at the center. Aidenar seemed to ease his breath.
Roderick appeared like a shadow at my shoulder with contract parchment ready.
Swollen with confidence, Marcus signed the contract before we laid our cards down.
A hill of palladium lay upon the table as well, a generous stake from Aidenar, who had no fear of emptying his coffers.
I had a knife to my throat. Nevertheless fickle fortune chose, for once, to favor me.
“A pair of kings,” I said, turning my cards.
Marcus cursed under his breath. Queens lay in his hands.
Aidenar placed his cards face down and pushed them away. He yielded.
“You managed to sail your siren’s ship through that storm,” Marcus hissed, lifting his cup and draining it.
He leaned close, wine and smoke upon his breath.
“If you ever want a taste of a true man, you know where to find me.” His fingers brushed my shoulder.
Aidenar’s face went hard as stone, and his stare fixed Marcus like cold steel.
Without waiting on my answer, Marcus moved off and soon had two women trapped against the bar, as though nothing had passed. I was left with Aidenar and a mound of winnings. We both rose from the table.
Cavareth came to me slowly, smiling as though he praised my victory, as though the whole scene amused him. His hand caught me firm at the waist, his body turned to mine. I felt the scent of his skin, the weight of his palm. His lips came near my ear.
“Never do that again,” he said firmly through clenched teeth. “Never put your body on the line. You do not know these men. You have no idea what you are stepping into. You have what you wanted and now leave this place.”
He was angered, more than I had ever seen him.
He turned his head toward Roderick, still holding me close and spoke louder. “Take her to the palace, and make sure she is safe.” Before I could draw breath, he was gone towards the bar.
I stood stunned until Roderick’s strong grip closed upon my arm.
“Come, my Lady.” His voice rang hard.
We were about to leave when I stopped and turned Aidenar’s cards up.
A pair of aces.
My heart struck my chest.
He had let me win.