Chapter 24. Part of The Deal.
The tavern buzzed despite such silence on the streets of Faris; laughter and dancing prevailed in the space. A group of musicians played their fiddles and drums in the corner of the tavern, their harmony reaching every ear within.
“This way.” Florence walked me through the dancing bodies, towards the table occupied by Roxanne and Francis.
Drinks in their hands, the pair did not notice us at first. Yet, when Francis’ gaze met mine and his lips stretched into a smirk, my body caught aflame. He nodded in greeting, urging the flowers within me to bloom.
“What took you so long?” Roxanne gave Florence a kiss on the cheek when the woman sat by her side, leaving the only available chair to me.
“We went for a little stroll on the way here. You know how much I love snowing Faris.” Florence removed her cloak, letting it rest on the back of her chair. “It is truly magical.”
“It is indeed.” Roxanne pushed a bowl from the center of the table to Florence. Bright red filled the contents. “I thought you might want something warm.”
“Mhm.” Florence smelled the contents of the bowl. “Pumpkin soup, my favorite!” She beamed. “Thank you, love.” She started at her meal.
Despite the delightful aroma coming from her soup, the crimson tint spoiled it for me.
“I didn’t know what you would like,” Francis explained the lack of a meal in front of me.
“I am not hungry, thank you.” I followed Florence’s lead and took the snowy cloak off my shoulders, settling onto the chair next to Francis. “What have you two been talking about?” I glanced at Roxanne and Francis, hoping my obvious attempt at changing the subject would be left unmentioned.
“Mostly how foolish Roxanne is.” Francis shrugged, pouring crimson from the pitcher into his goblet.
Roxanne’s lips turned into a mischievous smile. “Actually,” she started. “We were talking about you, Cordelia!” Her voice shone with an unnatural—to her—charm. She brought the drink to her lips, her eyes glowing with larkiness.
“What about me?” I asked, knowing the answer was not meant for my ears, for Francis nervously pulled on the collar of his shirt.
“Roxanne has finally lost her mind tonight, you see.” Francis rushed to reply, cutting Roxanne off.
Her smirk grew bigger as she finished her drink, setting the empty goblet down on the table. “Is that a bite on your neck?” She pointed at the collar of my dress.
My brows rose at her boldness—that lacked the unusual venom—as a bright smile stretched her lips.
“You are being childish, Rox.” Francis sighed, shaking his head, though a shadow of a smile still brightened his lips.
“I am merely expressing joy for your happiness.” Roxanne laughed, taking a spoonful of Florence’s soup. “Am I not allowed to feel happiness for you?” She pouted.
Pouted!
“I can’t even leave you for an hour it seems,” Florence mumbled, demanding her spoon back.
“Cordelia,” Roxanne giggled, reaching for my hand. “I meant to tell you how truly glorious you look tonight.” She frowned before adding, “And always! You always look glorious!" Roxanne dropped my hand, turning to Florence, though it seemed she was more interested in her soup...
She has lost her mind, indeed.
I breathed in the contents of the pitcher by Roxanne’s goblet, the smell of moonshine reaching my senses. “Is she drunk?” I faced Francis, pointing at her long empty goblet.
“Very much so.” Francis fought the smile off his lips, in vain, as he leaned back in his chair; the back of my neck prickled, his eyes boring into my flesh. He winked at me before his gaze traveled back to Roxanne.
“Perhaps Francis will stop writing sad music for once!” Roxanne’s bright laughter traveled with the sounds of the fiddle. “Isn’t that thrilling?”
“I don’t write sad music,” Francis chuckled.
“Yes, you do.” Florence nodded, sending another spoonful of soup into her mouth.
“You do!” Roxanne’s eyes sparkled. “And I love it! Your music is divine! A talent sent from the Moon!”
I wasn’t sure which Roxanne I preferred: the gloomy one or the joyful one—both terrified me equally.
“So many compliments in one day...” Francis’s hand reached for mine. “You are doing no good for my arrogance, Rox.” Francis’ eyes flickered to me as his hand wrapped around mine.
Roxanne's delight grew bigger at the scene. “You are not arrogant!” She argued. “You are very humble and...” Roxanne sighed, a bright smile tugging on her lips. “I love all of you so much!” She declared at last.
“All right.” Florence moved the pitcher to the edge of the table: away from Roxanne. “You’ve definitely had enough.”
Roxanne merely laughed in reply. “Simon!” Her smile somehow got brighter. “We’ve missed you so much!”
“We saw each other earlier tonight, remember?“ He chuckled at Roxanne, putting a bowl of soup in front of her before turning to me. “What do you fancy on this fine night, Cordelia?” He murmured. “The pumpkin soup is tonight’s favorite. The caramel fudge is still hot.”
“I am not hungry.” I shook my head; my stomach turning upside down with anxiety at the mere idea of human blood. “Thank you.”
“Are you certain?” Simon didn’t give up. “I made the dessert special for you.”
“I—” The words abandoned me, unable to argue with his generosity.
As I was about to agree to the meal, out of guilt for the time Simon spent, Francis spoke on my behalf, “She said, she wasn’t hungry, Simon.” His voice dropped an octave.
Simon put his hands up in surrender, his brows furrowing at Francis’ sudden tone. “Very well then. Next time.”
The warmth stretched up my neck, reaching my cheeks. “Thank you, Simon,” I added, forcing a small smile onto my face.
“Where is Ash?” Florence chewed on a—soaked in blood—piece of bread, saving me from the embarrassing interaction.
“Oh, Ash is upstairs, working on their new project.” Simon pulled a chair from a nearby table, taking his seat at the head of ours. “A set of arrows for Gilbert,” he explained. “With Kane gone, Ash’s hands are full, given they are the only knowledgeable blacksmith around here.”
“Speaking of...” Francis nodded at the weapon attached to my waist. “Can they remold Cordelia’s sword into a few daggers?”
Simon eyed the sword, his eyes squinting. “I don’t see why not.” He shrugged.
“Perfect.” Francis nodded for me to take off my sword. “Tell Ash we are very appreciative of their help.”
“Actually, I have something for all of you upstairs, why don’t you come up? We can discuss our plans there.” Simon got up from his chair, ushering everyone to do the same. “And you can thank Ash yourself.”
“What is it that you have for us?” Roxanne’s eyes filled with excitement.
“Come and see.” Simon laughed, gesturing for us to follow.
The musicians skillfully bowed their fiddles as we passed them, each note replacing the former swiftly.
My mind drowned in the bliss of their music, putting a genuine smile on my face.
“This way.” Francis rested his hand on my lower back, ushering me towards the back of the tavern, towards the door that carried a residents only sign.
I entered after Roxanne who leaned onto the wall for support.
The music echoed through the dark hall when the wooden door closed behind us; a set of stairs stood ahead, each level carrying two doors across from each other.
“Simon,” Roxanne groaned, struggling up the stairs: she leaned on the wall as Florence put Roxanne’s hand around herself, pulling her upwards. “You should consider moving to the first level.”
Simon chortled, “Perhaps I should.” He watched Roxanne struggle. “Many of those apartments are now vacant anyway.” He continued up the stairs. “A lot of vampires left after the Wurdulacs came back.”
“Others will come,” Florence’s soft voice traveled through the set of stairs despite practically carrying Roxanne. “They always do.”
“Oh, finally!” Roxanne groaned as we reached the fourth level. “This is exhausting, how do you do this everyday?”
“I don’t drink everyday, despite what you choose to believe, Roxanne.” Simon fiddled with the lock of his door that carried the number seven. The door creaked when Simon pushed it open, inviting us in.
Roxanne rushed to the couch that occupied the majority of the guest room, dropping onto it as though she’d run a few miles. “I am staying here tonight.” She yawned.
Florence bestowed her with an eye roll, settling on the couch next to her lover. “I hope I won’t need to carry you home...”
I took a few steps into the room, gorgeous rugs covered every inch of the flooring and one of the walls. The metal chandelier carried dozens of lit candles, illuminating the detailed woodwork of the bookshelf and doorframes leading into the depths of the apartment.
The apartment was small, yet carried an irreplaceable spirit of love.
“Wait here,” Simon told us before disappearing into the room in the back.
“Are you all right?” Francis leaned, whispering into my ear when Roxanne lay onto Florence’s lap, demanding a kiss.
“Yes.” I averted my gaze from the couple when Florence decided it was useless to argue and obliged with Roxanne’s demands. “Why do you ask?”
“You have been awfully quiet.” Francis frowned at the couple before turning to me.
“I’m sorry if Roxanne made you uncomfortable with her chatter.
” His gaze fell atop my neck, sending my mind into a hurricane.
“I didn’t share anything private about us, only confirmed what she already knew.
I didn’t mean to, but she sees through my lies far too easily. .. even when she is drunk, apparently."
“No,” I breathed, sending a glance to his lips. “It’s all right.”
The wooden floors squealed under Simon’s and Ash’s steps as they appeared from the back room. “A present.” Simon mumbled, showing off five shining daggers and a letter in his hands.
“You made those?” Roxanne crawled off the sofa, taking one of the daggers. “You made Royal steel.” Her eyes grew bigger as she studied Ash: clarity returning to her eyes.
“It’s from Caleb, he asked us to give them to you.” Ash passed the daggers to Francis, Florence and me.
Caleb stole the daggers for us, the realization settled in my mind. He fulfilled my long forgotten request.
“You saw Caleb.” Francis glanced at Simon and Ash before moving the dagger under the candlelight.
Simon nodded. “He came in last morning, while everyone was still asleep. Don’t worry I didn’t tell him of our plans.” He handed me the letter. “That’s for you.”
“To what do we owe such generosity?” Francis crooked his head, glaring at the letter in my hands before his eyes met mine.
“I asked him to.” I ripped through the sealing wax, dreading the contents of the letter.
I completed my part of the deal, now is your turn, Caleb wrote.
Only we had no deal. I’d told him I would consider helping him were he to steal the weapons for us, no promises were made. Meet me where we last met during the ball. I wouldn’t be coming.
“What’s in the letter?” Francis’ voice dropped a few octaves when Caleb’s words settled.
I folded the pieces of parchment, dropping it into my pocket. “Nothing of importance.” I met Francis’ gaze, the playfulness that filled his eyes moments ago long gone.
“What did you promise him?” Francis seethed.
“I promised him nothing.” I answered his anger with my own.
“Cordelia...” Francis closed his eyes, sighing. “I swear to the Moon—”
“I owe him nothing,” I hissed.
“Cordelia—”
“Oh, let her be.” Roxanne rolled her eyes at Francis, putting her newly gained dagger in the scabbard. “She got us the weapons that—if you didn’t notice—we desperately needed before our trip to the palace. Now we stand a chance at walking out of there alive.”
Francis shook his head, yet scabbarded his Royal steel dagger all the same. His jaw twitched as though he fought to keep his thoughts at bay.
I turned to Ash, unsheathing my sword. “Is there any way for you to remold it into daggers?” I handed my weapon to them, dismissing Francis and his gloom.
Ash took the sword, studying it from every angle. “This is very fine work.” They nodded. “I can make three, or perhaps four daggers out of it. It shouldn’t take long.”
“Thank you.” I smiled. “Perhaps you could bring them when we go to the palace?”
“Oh, I am not going.” Ash studied the sword. “There’s plenty of work here, Faris needs weapons like never before.” They set my sword atop the chest in the corner of the room. “Besides, I won’t be much help in the palace.” Ash shrugged. “Simon can bring the daggers with him.”
Florence raised from the couch, taking Roxanne’s hand into hers before turning to Ash, ”Perhaps I can stay with you and help while they are gone?”
“Of course!” Ash nodded. “I am always happy for company.”
“Are you certain?” Roxanne crooked her head, concern flashing in her still dreamy eyes.
“I was only going because you are afraid for me to stay on my own, this way I won’t be alone were something to happen.”
Roxanne’s lips turned into a thin line before she replied, “All right.” She nodded. “Perhaps you are right.”
“Everything will be well,” Florence reassured her. “You know I would be a burden at the palace.”
“Promise me you are not going to go anywhere by yourself until I return.” Roxanne sighed.
“Promise.” Florence whispered, a sad smile tugging on her lips.
“Then it’s decided: Florence and Ash will stay here, while the rest of us go to the palace,” Simon concluded.
“We will stay the day in the cabin and the moment the sun sets make our move to the palace,” Roxanne agreed. “What is the easiest way to get to the vault?” She faced me; nothing of the joyful Roxanne was left on her face.
I cleared my throat before replying, “The vault is in my mother’s passage, we will have to go through there.
” I scabbarded my dagger. “Last time there were two Wurdulacs guarding it; outside of that, it should be rather easy, given that the pathway is far from the main entrance: where the majority of Kane’s warriors are gathered.
” I glanced at Francis whose features still hid under shadows.
“If we don’t attract any attention, we should get in and out without any trouble. ”
“Sounds easy enough.” Simon brushed over his jaw, though none of this would be easy.
The room fell into silence, yet everyone’s thoughts were bright as day: some of us might never come back from the palace, some of us would say their goodbyes one last time.
“We will leave the night after the ball,” Roxanne interrupted the growing dread that fought for power with the peaceful spirits of the apartment.
“The night after the ball.” Simon’s voice grew stronger when he glanced at Francis, who wouldn’t take his eyes off me.