He quieted for a moment, but she heard the underlying message.
He could not understand whyever someone would prefer their taverns over the upscale ones close to the castle or in the western part of Asker.
Sucking her teeth, she mulled it over.
More men meant more salaries. However, a few of the older boys in the house were getting anxious about getting out, and perhaps it would be a good way to introduce them into society. Ardow, Bren, and the rest of her men could keep an eye on them while they worked, and since they were half- or at least part-Fae, they were strong enough to take on a drunken human.
Lessia reached out a hand. “Tell Loche we have a deal.”
Chapter
Six
Her fingers ached from signing hundreds of forms, and irritation still pricked her skin from an earlier conversation with one of her suppliers.
He’d never liked her, didn’t trust her Fae heritage, but he’d never been so blatantly rude and dismissive as when she’d tried to argue with him over the ridiculously high price he was asking for plain meat.
Making a mental note to let Ardow know they needed a new supplier to replace him, even if it would cost them more, she threw herself on the unmade bed in her room.
Staring up at the white ceiling, she waited for the door to open.
Amalise had been out all day. She’d brought some of the children to the forest to have them let off some steam, but they should be back any moment now, and Amalise always came straight to her room to give her updates on how they were faring.
Shadows from the moon rippled across the beams in the ceiling, and a yearning for summer came over her. This winterhad been harsh, longer than the four others she’d spent here, and there didn’t seem to be an end in sight. There’d been dark clouds rolling in, a hint of snow filling the air when she let the last merchant out of her office.
A sharp pain slicing through her arm made her involuntarily curl into herself, her hand flying to cover the tattoo and dread crawling up her spine as she hesitantly pulled back the sleeve.
No.
Her body buzzed when the silver serpent slithered up her forearm, its eyes blinking and its tongue viciously lapping her skin.
A pull twisted deep in her gut, and before she realized what she was doing, she walked out of her bedroom, unable to stop even to pick up her cloak.
In a trance Lessia walked down the spiraling staircase, out the double doors, and onto the cold, dark streets. Pressure built in her chest at the little light outside, but her limbs wouldn’t bring her closer to the path where the metal lampposts lined the road. Instead, they led her out toward the cliffs, toward the wild sea roaring below.
She sucked in a breath.
Was she about to walk off?
Disappear into the dark waves?
But as she closed her eyes, her feet an inch from the steep drop, her body turned, leading her north, away from the town, following the slippery, dark cliffs.
Soon, the city was far behind her, with only black cliffs to her left and the dark forest to her right. Shivering, she tried to manage her breathing and squash the panic clawing at her lungs.
She didn’t jerk when Merrick’s oily magic lathered over her skin; she was almost grateful for the sticky warmthshielding her from the harsh wind. And she was more than a little grateful for the lantern he held as he fell into step with her.
A hood covered Merrick’s face, the silvery cloak billowing behind him as she followed him left, where a lone figure in a dark cape stood upon a tall cliff.
They approached in silence, each dropping to one knee before him.
Lessia winced as the wet stone cut into her skin, immediately soaking her trousers.
“It’s been a long time, Elessia Gyldenberg.”
When Merrick didn’t rise, she didn’t dare either. “It has, my king.”
It was quiet for so long Lessia almost wondered if he’d left, when the king ordered, “Get up.”
