The couple puffed up in pride. The Prince knew their name. They would be praying that important people were eavesdropping on this conversation right now.
“Yes, Your Highness, that’s the one. It’s our honour and privilege to make your acquaintance.”
“I’m surprised to see you here Lerdon, socialising. Didn’t you just lose two big contracts?”
“Um, no, Your Highness must be thinking of someone else.”
“No, Lerdon Shipping Merchants. You transport spices from the White Isles and oranges from the Halcyon Realm, correct?” Talac watched the stout short man pale and swallow. A buzz of interest erupting amongst those nearby who were whispering the news to those just out of hearing range, who then turned to relay the news to those standing even further away.
Mistress Lerdon lifted her chin, dark eyes boring in to Talac. “I believe Your Highness is…” She didn’t want to say wrong, that would be unforgivable, instead gifting him with an understanding smile. “… the victim of a mischievous prankster.”
“You think? How bold of someone to misinform me. You know, I recently had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of your daughter-in-law.” He watched the Lerdons regain their pompous equilibrium. Pride emanating from them, no doubt assuming he was going to mention one of their older sons’ brides. “Mistress Petal, I found her to be commendable.” The blood washing out of Master Lerdon’s face once more while his wife was trying to hide her shock and confusion. “To be widowed so young, and with three daughters to raise by herself. A brave woman.”
“We were most despondent when she insisted upon returning to the bosom of her family for support.” Mistress Lerdon supplied readily. Oh, yes, Talac could just picture this viper standing over Petal and evicting her and her daughters from their home.
“Insisted, did she?” Talac mused over the words before smiling haughtily. “By the by, did you hear that we have finally found a man to oversee the Widows Dividend Funding division? An accountant, a man of enviable honour and ethics. We shall be assigning him several squadrons of guards to enforce anyone lagging behind, or who are resisting payment. Can you imagine that, someone refusing to pay a widow her due? They would have to be monsters.” Talac nodded his head. “Forgiveness, I must continue to socialise. Though how fortuitous I should bump into you after just having made the acquaintance of your daughter-in-law. Oh, and if I were you, Lerdon, I’d be watching the skies for a pigeon or two flying in from the Halcyon Realm and the White Isles heralding a change in your fortunes.”
It was a hard fought battle to keep a blank haughty expression on his face as Talac made his way through the abuzz crowd. The news of the Lerdon’s imminent financial woes spreading like wildfire. To compound the issue, Talac was sure lenders would be approaching them calling their loans due, whilst any one doing trade with them would be ending their business post-haste. Rats always recognised when a ship was sinking.
He made a mental note to send Master Kinnith a job offer. Head of the Widows Dividend Fund, it had a nice ring to it.
Quickly however Talac’s good mood was obliterated, as aristo after aristo greeted him and somehow managed to bring the conversation around to Alia and not quite insult her. Always hovering on the edge of good manners, but leaving it unsaid that she was not one of them. Her clothes. Her height. Her unfashionable looks. Her strength. Her calmness. Her competitiveness. How vulgar she was to put on display so casually the scar across her throat.
It made Talac want to howl in their greedy lying faces. He’d been in their homes. Watched all these aristos from the shadows. They all had little desperate dark secrets they were hiding from the world, but the one person who was exactly as she appeared, was Alia Gloomenthrall.
He… admired her. Yes, that was the word.
Turning, who should Talac find next to him? Alia, leaning against an ancient marble column, conversing with no one. In fact, there appeared to be a little pocket of space around her. As if their fellow party-goers were afraid that getting too close to her might see them painted with the same contempt everyone here was heaping upon her under their breaths.
“Lady Alia.”
“Your Highness.” She bobbed her head in acknowledgement. Just enough to be courteous.
She was an oasis amongst all these clinging sycophants. Talac stepped into her space, taking a deep breath. Noting the crowd around them watching on avidly, but no one appeared willing to encroach closer. “Did you say or do something to put the frighteners into our fellow guests?”
“Besides breathe? No. They’re a bored lot, aren’t they? They need jobs.”
“This is their job… being, acting wealthy. They don’t just support themselves, but their families, their servants, even the inhabitants of the towns closest to their estates. Advantageous marriage contracts have far reaching rippling impacts.”
“I had not considered that perspective.”
“Their motives don’t make them any less mean though, so don’t go getting soft on me.”
“Never. But it’ll make it easier to refrain from pulling a knife, I shall just have to keep relying on the sharp edge of my tongue to inflict retribution.”
“Has anyone in particular insulted you to your face?” Anger stirred in Talac’s gut.
“Too many to remember. Though it’s never quite an insult. It’s too often a gently worded bit of advice they feel impelled to share with me… as if they’re trying to help me.”
“What kind of advice have you been receiving?”
“That I should hunch more. And perhaps consider remaining seated at all times. That there are hairstyles better suited to me. And they highly recommend a sweeping side part where more of my hair would cover half, if not more of my face. Several expressed their sympathy that I was unable to source enough material to make a dress that would cover my entire form, but assure me that I should persevere, and they were positive I would look lovely in pastel pink.”
Talac had to shift, ensuring no one but Alia could see the amusement sparkling in his eyes. “You would look stunning in pastel pink. And perhaps you could consider braiding your hair so it covers the majority of your face like a helmet?”
“More style advice.” Absently Alia smoothed down her dark green jacket with its little sweep of fabric falling to cover her rear-end. By doing so she drew attention to the expanse of cleavage on ready display.
“On second thoughts.” Talac’s eyes dipped downwards momentarily, he was after all only a man. “Don’t change a thing.” Lifting his gaze quickly his attention came to rest upon the scar bisecting Alia’s throat. “You’re lucky to be alive.”
