CHAPTER 12 #2
“Damn it!” I cursed, the roughness in my voice catching everyone’s attention. “That hurt!”
“Good,” Gwinifer replied with a smirk like a coiled viper. “Maybe you will stop gawking at the pretty boys and focus.”
Not surprisingly, Reagan and Finn halted their sparring to look in our direction. I simply replied, “Thanks for that.”
“Well, we’re not finished yet, are we?” she asked.
I caught Finn at the edge of my vision, his head low as if to hide a smirk, pretending to dry off sweat. Reagan had no such politeness. His arms were folded, and an unapologetic grin stretched across his face.
Their amusement only fuelled me more. I wanted to hit her, be faster, stronger.
The most unsettling thing was not the number of bruises taking root on my arms and the one on my chin.
The strange thing was that I was actually starting to like her.
The more she taunted me about my punches or teased me by asking if I was trying not to break a nail, the more it drove me.
Somehow, the anger was shifting to something else, something almost . . . rewarding.
So each morning had been like this. Dawn with Gwinifer, sparring and taking blows that left me bruised but oddly exhilarated, then limping off to bathe before joining whoever was still around for breakfast.
During the rest of the day, I pored over books in the study or sprawled in my room, reading any romance or mystery novels I could find.
I’d started to look forward to the training, the tough words and bruises, feeling a little less like a target, a little more capable with each day.
◆◆◆
I’d just left my room in a hurry after bathing, heading toward the dining room where I knew some of the staff would be setting up for breakfast.
Reagan was on my mind. I planned to talk to him about something that had gnawed at me since I’d learned he’d sent money to my family.
Down the corridor, my gaze drifted over the rug as I braced for an annoying, perhaps humiliating conversation.
A firm surface collided with my face. Strong hands caught my shoulders, steadying me before I could stumble back.
“Late for something?” His familiar voice was low, his hands releasing me.
I had to tilt my head, and my eyes drifted, almost involuntarily, across the broad width of his shoulders and down to the hard chest I’d just bounced off. He wore a pale blue button-up shirt with rolled-up sleeves that brought out the colour of his eyes.
“I got distracted,” I replied, sheepish.
Reagan’s gaze flickered, almost pointedly, to the faint bruise on my chin. “How’s the training going?”
He had been there this morning, though he mostly spoke with Finnegan while Gwinifer sparred with me.
“It’s good. I like the movement.”
His eyes narrowed as though he picked up on the eagerness in my voice. “Right. From what I’ve seen, you’re holding up well.”
Was that a compliment? Maybe in the smallest, most insignificant of senses. It felt like he was waiting, almost knowing that I would continue.
“I actually need your help.”
His brows arched, his keen eyes studying me. “When you say this, I think I should be worried about what comes next.”
My lips curled faintly. “No, it’s about a job. I want to have one. I can’t just live here without contributing. It feels wrong. And I want to settle the debt with the trades. So, is there something that someone like me can do here or in the city?”
He contemplated the thought for a while. “I’m not sure,” he replied, leaning a shoulder against the wall and cocking his head. “What are your qualifications? Besides throwing tantrums.”
My brows lifted, even though I should have thought about this: what skills I should mention and whether he would make me prove myself.
“I have experience managing the bookshop I used to work at. I had to manage inventory, deal with customers, organise financial records.”
His head bobbed slowly as I went on about the responsibilities of my previous job. My only job, the first work I found after finishing my studies.
“So, if there’s a bookshop in your city, I’d like to check for a position.
Or at a library, a school, or any other job I’m suited for.
Perhaps even cooking, assuming your pots don’t cook by themselves, that is.
” At that, he pressed his lips together, as if he were trying hard not to smirk.
“I make a decent omelette, and I’m sure I can learn other meals if I observe someone doing it. ”
He brought his finger to his mouth as if making a show of considering me. “I’m not sure your skills will be best used in the kitchen. And I don’t entirely trust this ‘decent omelette.’ I’m not sure an omelette counts as a whole meal,” he said, his hands rubbing his chin.
“Are you mocking me?” I asked dryly, crossing my arms at how at ease he was while I was struggling to ask him for something.
“No, no,” he assured, and I almost believed him. “I wouldn’t dare. Maybe with your training, we could give you a spot as a battle m—”
“I’m leaving,” I said, walking past him.
But he caught my elbow before I could go too far.
“Wait, Jane. I was just making a joke,” he said apologetically. “I actually think there’s a position for you on my staff.”
“Your staff?” I echoed, pulling my arm from his grip. “What position?”
“I need someone to come with me on the next visit to Erisea. I’ll have to go by myself because Finnegan managed to get a meeting in Vaelon with Gwinifer. Barracus and Cerridwen have too much work as it is. I need someone to help me negotiate deals to import what we need.”
“I—I don’t know the first thing about negotiating,” I admitted.
“You were going to the fair to trade for your father, were you not? So I guess you would learn by doing it. Do the same with this,” he argued with a firm expression that suited him. “We can start on a trial basis and, if you like the job, we’ll make you an official emissary.”
Emissary? His offer took me by surprise. I hadn’t thought of getting any high-ranking job like this. Why would he offer it to me? Finnegan was his emissary, someone he could trust.
I doubted that I even had the competence for this. Besides, it would mean spending even more time with him. A thought I wasn’t sure how to feel about.
“Will it risk my life?” I asked, sounding like a coward.
“No. You would only go with me, and I wouldn’t ask you to do anything that would be a danger to you.” His expression was steady, calm.
He was serious about this.
And probably wanted to keep an eye on me, I realised. The prospect of helping with his estate and visiting other places was more interesting than any of the options I came up with.
“How would we go to the other estates?” I asked, searching his face for any indication that he was plotting something.
“I’ll fling us both there,” he answered briskly.
I debated whether I was comfortable with that for a few seconds. While it was unsettling to fling, it was very quick.
“And this is a serious proposal, or are you mocking again?” I had to make sure.
“As serious as Barracus.”
My leg bounced absently as I considered. He picked up on that.
“Well then, I agree to the trial,” I said cautiously, my voice betraying a hint of reluctance.
Reagan inclined his head, his eyes gleaming with something. “Good. Then it’s settled. We’ll leave for Erisea in two days.”
He stepped closer, his tone taking on an unsettlingly pleased edge. “I’m looking forward to seeing what else you’re capable of.”
He spun on his heel and strode away, leaving me to wonder if I had just made things worse for myself.