Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
The first snow
sapphire
Like every other night in the dead of winter .
. . it was cold, yet tonight seemed more so.
I don’t know why I’d even bothered to venture out.
I should’ve stayed locked in my room reading or mending the girl's gowns, but I’d promised Meeka I’d meet with her so we could go to the night markets together.
I tugged the hood of my cloak lower over my face. Maybe if the blue stayed hidden, the townsfolk would pretend I didn’t exist.
Icy wind snapped at my ankles as I made my way towards the marketplace. My feet knew where they were headed, but my mind was elsewhere. Trapped in a place where only he and I existed. A place that was only ever destined to be a dream.
Nik’s face danced across my vision. He’d been so crestfallen as my words flew at him like venomous spittle. His pinched brows, slightly parted mouth in disbelief and broad arms hanging loosely by his side.
I’d told him to stop being nice.
A pathetic sliver of me had clung to the hope that he wouldn’t listen, that he’d show up anyway—that he’d ignore the heat in my voice and come looking.
But no emerald eyes had cut through the smoke and sweat-hung haze of the Silver Finch last night.
No quiet footsteps behind me this morning as I slipped out into The Grey.
And when I’d paused at my window, breath hitching in spite of myself, there hadn’t been so much as a flicker of copper in the shadows.
Just the same cracked street and the same empty stillness.
I’d ruined any chance I might have had at a different life, but it was for the best. There was only one person that I could rely on, and she was waiting for me at the end of the frozen cobblestone street.
With a gentle sigh, I pulled the cloak around me tighter. Soon I’d have enough gold coins to slip away into the night, travel through the different districts and find my way to the seaside. I’d be miles away before Kavish even realised I was gone.
As I rounded the corner, I was greeted by a sight so beautiful that it drew a brief smile to my lips.
Brightly coloured lanterns hand painted with gold patterns were strung high on wooden poles that circled the centre of town.
The scents of roasting meats and vegetables wafted on the chilly air, mixing with the aromas of mulled wines, and honey meads.
My stomach growled as I passed the stalls stacked high with candied fruits on little sticks or wooden bowls filled with jellies and custard.
I really should have gone by the kitchens and spoken to the cook before I left.
Perhaps I could have eaten dinner earlier.
It wouldn’t be worth my small stash of coins to eat now.
I moved away from the food, winding through the sea of bodies in search of my fair-haired friend. Meeka had told me to meet her by the fountain in the middle of the square. It was frozen solid at this time of year, but still pretty to look at.
It beckoned to me between the swaying bodies of men and women as it stood still beneath the moonlight, its water frozen in mid-cascade. What should have been a gentle trickle was now a sculpture of ice, arched and jagged, catching the glow of the lanterns strung overhead like stars caught in glass.
The night market buzzed around me, soft laughter, the clink of coins, the low hum of music drifting between stalls heavy with spice and smoke. But I stayed seated at the edge of the fountain, hands curled around the warmth of my cloak.
As I waited for Meeka I stared at the ice, tracing the ridges with my eyes, letting my thoughts wander, until hands suddenly covered my eyes from behind.
I gasped, half rising, heart jumping to my throat, expecting to see a regular or someone worse . . . the snooty women who turned their noses up at the sight of me.
“Guess who,” Meeka whispered, laughter laced in her voice.
I smiled before I could stop myself. “You’re lucky I didn’t elbow you in the ribs.”
She giggled and pulled her hands away, stepping around to face me with pale gold wind-tousled hair and a face flushed from the cold. Just like always. Late, warm-hearted, and impossible not to love.
“I hope you didn’t eat all the sweets without me.”
“All of it’s gone, sorry. I enjoyed every morsel.”
Meeka linked her arm through the crook of mine. “How dare you not wait for me.”
Our laughter mixed with the sounds melting around us as we took our time viewing the sights.
A man with silver-painted skin balanced on a wooden crate, juggling knives that caught the lanternlight with every spin.
Meeka gasped as one flew a little too high, but he caught it with a bow and a wink that earned him a handful of tossed copper coins.
Further down, a group of children danced in a circle around a fiddler whose bow moved so fast it blurred.
He was missing two fingers, but you wouldn’t have known it from the sound he coaxed out of those strings—wild and haunting.
A fire-dancer spun beside him, her braids trailing behind her like comets, each movement throwing sparks into the dark.
Meeka reached out and tugged my sleeve, pointing to a woman who sat behind a curtain of beads, offering readings for a price. Her eyes were milky white, blind, or made to look it, and she traced the lines of a stranger’s palm with eerie precision. I quickly looked away.
“I already know my future, and it’s not on her deck of cards I can assure you.” I chuckled.
Meeka snorted. “That’s my girl.”
We kept walking, skirts brushing against the stalls of market wares—bundles of herbs, carved whistles, beaded necklaces, tiny charms that claimed to ward off misfortune. For a moment, just a moment, I let myself enjoy the buzz of it all.
No Kavish. No horny men. Just Meeka and the hum of life around us.
Time passed by, not making itself known to me. As long as I was back at the brothel by ten, everything would be fine. I wasn’t working the floor tonight but the look Kavish gave me as I left told me that he’d be my only customer for the evening.
I wouldn’t disappoint him . . . not again. I didn’t have the courage.
We walked arm in arm, enjoying each other’s company, sugar almonds in a shared paper bag between us. Meeka sucked in a breath as she spied a stall selling handmade bead jewellery.
“We should get something matching!” she squealed.
Laughter bubbled out of me as I shook my head. “All my coins are spoken for.”
She pouted her bottom lip, letting go of my arm as she darted off to the stall to peruse the wares. I waited for her by the corner of the alleyway, aware that I didn’t have much longer before I’d have to head back to the Silver Finch.
I watched as Meeka picked up a necklace with green beads. The tiny blobs of emerald reminded me of Nik . . .
The tempo of the music drifting through the air changed. The drums and fiddle got louder, melting with the singing voices of the Shadowkin around me. I could feel the thud of it in my chest. For a moment I let the music take me somewhere else, until . . .
A cold, calculated hand stole around my mouth, yanking me against a broad chest. Before I could react, my captor dragged me into the shadows. My breath caught in my throat. My body moved on instinct, jerking back, trying to pull away—but his fingers clamped down tighter.
“Easy now, Sapphire,” the male drawled, voice thick and low against my ear. “You still owe me.”
The scent, the voice, it was all wrong.
He spun me and pushed me up against the crumbling stone wall. I came face to face with Rhodes.
Dread formed in my chest like a melting clump of hot iron, burning me from the inside out. His blue eyes dragged across my lips and down my throat where they lingered. A shudder ran down the length of my spine.
“Don’t make a sound and I’ll remove my hand,” he whispered inches from my mouth.
I could do this. I could play this game.
Cold air stung my nose as I tried to steady my breath. I looked him dead in the eyes and slowly nodded. The corner of his mouth pulled up into a smirk, as he lowered his hand.
He was a fucking idiot.
“Meeka!” I yelled at the top of my lungs.
Spun gold swivelled towards me at the same time Rhodes snarled. One hand clamped back across my mouth, the other gripping my throat. As he slammed his hand over my lips so hard my teeth bit into the skin. I could taste the blood blooming on my tongue.
I wouldn’t panic. Not yet.
“Get off her!” Meeka’s voice cut through the air like a whip. But the sounds of the night market swallowed it whole.
I tried to reach for her, arms outstretched, fingers splayed, but Rhodes shifted to stand between us, a maniacal look upon his face. Eyes wide, and teeth barred.
“Rhodes!” My voice muffled under his hand.
Then she was on him. My Meeka. She launched herself at Rhodes like a wildcat, nails clawing at his face, fists pounding against his shoulders. She kicked, bit—desperation made her fierce. He staggered under her weight, cursing.
I choked back the tears as I watched her fight for me. She fought like the world depended on it. Like saving me was the only thing that mattered, shrieking like a banshee as she clawed at his face—gods, she didn’t stop.
Rhodes tried to shrug her off while keeping his weight on me, pressing me against the wall until my chest turned in on itself, bones digging into soft flesh.
Where was that idiot Ree when I needed him—or my unwanted saviour . . . Nik.
Blonde hair whipped across my face as Meeka clawed at Rhodes. I tried to push against him but it was as if he was built from stone.
Then it happened too fast.
With a roar, Rhodes flung an elbow back. I heard it before I saw it land—sickeningly solid—crunching bone right against her cheek.
“Meeka!” I screamed as loud as I could behind Rhodes' clammy palm.
She fell back against the wall, then crumpled, folding like a rag doll. Her head hitting the cobblestones with a sharp, final crack. And then she didn’t move.