The Confectioner's Coup
Page 17
“What are we making?” Wren asked, donning an apron and rinsing her hands in soap and water.
“Mint meltaways, rose liquor truffles, toasted hazelnut marzipan, ginger delight, and pumpkin caramels.”
Wren’s mouth began to water as Callidus listed each confection, even as her eyes widened at the list. “That will take us days,” she said.
“You better start melting then,” Callidus shot back.
Wren groaned but pulled a knife from the block to start chopping ingredients.
Much to her surprise, cooking with Callidus wasn’t nearly as bad as she expected. It seemed, that much like her, working soothed the guildmaster. They settled into a rhythm that was comfortable, if not quite familiar. The passing of the hours was marked only by the light in the hallway caramelizing and darkening into night. Wren finished pouring the mint meltaways (one of her favorites) into their molds and bent over to touch her toes, stretching her sore lower back. Callidus plopped himself on a stool. Stray strands of his normally perfectly coiffed hair had fallen into his eyes, and he shoved them back with his forearm, his fingers glistening with sugar.
“Well done,” he said gruffly.
“You too,” Wren said. She hesitated but forged ahead. “You’re a good teacher. I’m glad you’ve taken Thom on. It’d be a shame to waste that skill.”
“Who knows if I’ll ever get to teach him?” Callidus said glumly, tracing a grain of wood on the countertop.
“You will.” Wren put her hand on his shoulder and risked an awkward pat. “We’ll find him. Speaking of…” She pulled her apron off. She had been thinking for the last several hours that she needed to ask Callidus about the binding wine. His anger seemed to have faded—perhaps now was the time. She took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “I would like to bring Lucas in on the secret of the Gifting.”
Callidus looked up sharply, his blue eyes searching her, seeing too much. “Trouble in paradise?” Callidus asked dryly.
“Lucas helped us solve Kasper’s murder and he’s helping us find Thom.” Wren ignored Callidus’s comment. “But he can’t be effective if he doesn’t have all the information. He doesn’t understand the full picture of what’s going on. He would be a strong ally—”
Callidus cut her off. “He’s an Imbris. You may feel that he’s loyal to you now, but things are changing quickly. Can you be so sure that if the Apricans knocked down our walls that Lucas wouldn’t betray us? To save himself?”
“He wouldn’t—” Wren protested.
“Or his family? His brothers and sister? No, Wren, the answer is no. There are enough variables I can’t control without throwing a prince into the mix.”
Wren pressed her lips together in frustration. She wanted to argue more, but she heard the note of finality in his words. Perhaps she could convince him someday to free her from the binding wine, but not today.
“It’s too bad,” she said instead. “Lucas has another lead on finding Thom.”
“What kind of lead?” Callidus’s eyes narrowed, his serious eyebrow swooping down in suspicion.
“I suppose it doesn’t matter since Lucas is so untrustworthy.” Wren knew it was petty, but she couldn’t help it. She knew Lucas could be trusted, even if Callidus didn’t believe her. And if she couldn’t tell Lucas the truth soon, she might lose him all together.
“Wren—” Callidus said.
She interrupted him. “Are we done cooking, Guildmaster? I’d like to be excused.”
Callidus glared at her for a moment before giving a curt nod.
Wren turned and fled.
Cooking with an angry Sable felt like swimming with a shark. Whatever direction Hale turned, she was there, shouldering past him, slamming cabinet doors, chopping far too aggressively for comfort. Finally, he just pulled out one of the stools and sat down, watching her.
Sable turned to him, her black eyes flashing. “What are you doing? You aren’t going to help me?”
He crossed his arms before his chest. “There’s no way you’re going to infuse anything in the mood you’re in. I get that you’re angry at me. Why don’t you just finish saying your piece so we can move on?”
She mirrored his pose, leaning against the countertop. Gods, she was beautiful. Like a sculpture. It was all he could do not to go to her, to take her in his arms. But he suspected that move might get him stabbed.
“You were gone. You weren’t in your room, I couldn’t find you anywhere in the Guildhall…I didn’t know where you were.” She looked down at the floor angrily.
Hale stilled. She was angry because she was…worried? Guilt warred with elation within him. “I’m sorry I worried you. It was insensitive of me. But…you didn’t know I went to Dash Island until this morning. What did you think could have happened to me?”
Sable refused to look up.
Realization dawned on him, and he felt a smile creep across his face. Sable was jealous! “You thought… You thought I was with someone else?”
Sable scoffed, looking at her fingernails. A flush rose on the apples of her cheeks. “You’re a grown man. What do I care what you do with your free time?”
Hale stood, walking towards her, his body drawn to hers like a magnet. “But you do care.” He tilted her chin up gently, forcing her to meet his eyes. Hers were angry. “You came to see me, didn’t you?” Hale said. “You said my room was empty. You’d only know that if you’d come looking.” Hale mentally kicked himself, his elation dimming. He felt like a colossal ass. Sable had come to him and he hadn’t been there!
“It doesn’t matter,” she said, tearing her chin from his grip. “It was a mistake.”
“Sable.” He rested his hands gently on her shoulders, reveling in the feel of her skin beneath his fingers. “Do you know why I joined the Confectioner’s Guild?”
She looked back at him, cocking her head.
“For you. I saw you and I thought you were the most beautiful creature I had ever laid eyes on. I joined this Guild thinking I would woo you and have you.”
Sable rolled her eyes at that, but he pushed on. “I was a stupid kid. In a matter of weeks I learned that it could never be. Because I didn’t just want you, I loved you.” He pushed a tendril of hair out of her eyes. “You made me the man I am. Every woman I’ve been with, every night partying, it was all to distract myself from what I really wanted. You. But then I almost lost you…” He took a deep breath. “And I knew it was all over. No more pretending. No more other women. There’s no one but you. Ever again.”
“We can’t,” Sable whispered, but her body moved against his and he kissed her, this time slow and languidly. He would take his time. Get to know every sweet inch of her—
Sable broke their kiss, pushing against him. “This can’t work.” She sighed, leaning her forehead against his chest.
“Leave with me,” Hale said, a thought that had been swirling about the back of his mind crystalizing into form.
“Hale,” Sable said crossly, donning again the cloak of grandmaster.
“I mean it,” he said. “There’s only one way this siege will end. Aprica’s forces are too strong. King Evander knows about the Gifted, I’m certain of it. We won’t be safe here as soon as the walls fall.”
She recoiled slightly. “Where is this coming from?”
Hale knew he should tell her about Wren’s and his conversation with Daemastra and Marius, but he had just calmed her down. Now was not the time. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” he said instead. “We aren’t Alesian. We don’t need to die here. You are home to me, Sable. Wherever you are. Let’s find someplace new, someplace safe, and make a life together.”
“But what about the Guild?” Sable asked. “Everything we’ve worked for. Wren, Callidus, Thom…we can’t just abandon them.”
“Bring them then!” Hale said. “I don’t care. We’ll start a new Guild. All I care about is you and me finding someplace we can be safe. Together.”
Sable paced away from him, quiet for a moment. She t
urned with a shake of her head. “I know you mean well, and in some ways, it sounds amazing. But I’ve worked too hard building a life here. I’m not just going to abandon it. I don’t think I can do it all over again.”
“You can, Sable,” Hale pleaded. “We can. Together.”
She held up a hand. “Please, Hale,” she said quietly. “I said no. Now please, can we just cook?”
Hale’s shoulders sagged, but he nodded. “Of course.”
Wren poked her head into the kitchen where Sable and Hale were cooking. Hale was washing dishes while Sable put a batch of ganache in the ice box. The mood in the room was strangely subdued. Perhaps Sable hadn’t completely gotten over her anger about Wren and Hale visiting Dash Island. Wren was grateful they had decided not to share their capture by the Apricans. She couldn’t imagine the kind of lecture they would have gotten.
“You have a minute?” Wren asked. “It’s about Thom.”
“What is it?” Sable wiped her hands on her apron and untied the strings, taking it off and setting it on the counter.
“Lucas had another idea about how to locate the Gifted. Wherever they are, they’re probably being guarded, either by the king’s own Black Guard or the Cedars. If the Steward’s office has shifted a number of guards to a building or area suddenly, it might point us to where they’re being kept.”
Sable nodded thoughtfully. “It’s not a bad idea. The Steward’s Office, you say? Willings would be in charge of this?”
“That’s what Lucas said.”
“And can Lucas poke around for us?” Hale asked, drying his hands on a towel and leaning back against the counter.
Wren grimaced. “Lucas isn’t too happy with me right now. I don’t think we can count on him.”
“Trouble in paradise—” Hale began, but Sable silenced him with a look. “And I suppose you’d like to go poking your nose around Willings’s office, would you?” Sable asked. “What could go wrong?”
Wren huffed. She had considered that but had rejected that idea as too dangerous. Yet it was the only thing she could think of. “I’m open to suggestions.”
Sable stood. “I have a contact in the Cedar Guards’ office. Let me do some digging. We’ll try this my way, yes?” She looked first at Wren, then at Hale. They both nodded solemnly.
Chapter 24
Wren was surprised to find Sable at her door that evening, her dark hair plaited in a fishtail braid over one shoulder. Wren had been pacing her room, watching dusk fall over Maradis from her window.
“I’ve got a lead,” Sable said. “Grab your cloak. Let’s go.”
Wren did as she was told, hurrying to her wardrobe and then out into the hallway. Sable was already striding towards the stairs, and Wren had to jog to catch up with her.
The night was cool, with low-hanging clouds threatening rain above them. Leaves crunched under their feet, a kaleidoscope of reds and oranges. It took Wren a moment to work up the nerve to talk to Sable. The air between them was still charged; she felt as unsettled around her sponsor as she had when she’d first joined the Guild. “Why’d you want me to come?” Wren asked.
“With all that’s been going on, I’ve been lax in your training,” Sable replied.
“I’m as good a confectioner as any of you,” Wren said, trying not to let the hurt show in her voice. If there was one thing she thought she had figured out, it was that.
“Not that training,” Sable said, glancing sideways at Wren. “Being a master in our Guild is much more than making chocolate. In fact, that’s probably the least important part of it. You need to start understanding the different personalities of the Guilds and the crown, making connections of your own. You can’t solve all your problems by picking a lock.”
Wren considered. That did make sense, but she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to network the way Sable and Hale did. She said as much.
“You have a keen mind, so think of it like a puzzle. Each piece of information, each relationship, fills in the picture. It will take years to cultivate. Years until you see the whole image. But you have to start somewhere.”
“All right,” Wren said halfheartedly.
“It’s harder for us, Wren,” Sable said quietly. “Than for Hale or Callidus. Men either don’t take us seriously or want to sleep with us—or both. When you find one who doesn’t fall in either of those camps, you know you’ve found an ally. Hang on to him like a dog with a bone.”
Wren followed Sable across the street and into a cheerful pub with a sign declaring it The Braxton Cross. Inside, respectable-looking patrons chatted on high stools, sipping pints of cider and ale. Two men in waistcoats threw darts at a board in the corner.
Sable had apparently spotted her contact because she weaved among the tables until they reached a little table against the far wall. A gray-haired mustached Cedar Guardsman sat at the table, a mostly-empty glass before him. “Sable!” he said, standing to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Looking as lovely as ever.”
“You flatterer,” Sable murmured. “Franz, this is Wren, an artisan of mine.”
Franz gave Wren’s offered hand an enthusiastic shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Wren. Please, sit down.”
Wren and Sable slid into the two empty chairs. “You said you found something?” Sable asked demurely.
“Straight to the point, aren’t you? Well, that’s fine. Mollie should have dinner ready at home; I should be going.” Franz slid a piece of paper across the table to Sable and drained what was left of his ale. “You’re not going to cause any trouble with this, are you now?”
Sable laughed, her hand covering the paper. “Don’t you worry about me. The king has plenty to keep him busy just over the wall. We’re just trying to find a friend.”
Franz nodded, standing. “I told Mollie I was seeing you, and she insisted you stop by the house soon. She’s still going on about that peanut brittle recipe you gave her. She’s the talk of her knitting circle.”
“Tell her I’ll be by as soon as I’m able,” Sable said warmly. “And your ale’s on us.”
Franz nodded to them both. “Always a pleasure. Wren, nice to meet you.”
Wren watched him navigate through the bar stools and push into the night. She didn’t know what she had expected from one of Sable’s contacts, but…it wasn’t that.
“How do you know him?” Wren turned to Sable in amazement. “He’s like…an adorable grandfather.”
Sable cocked her head, a fond expression on her face. “I met his wife, Mollie, at a bake sale to raise money for the Maradis Hospital. We hit it off. They’re good people.”
Wren shook her head. Every time she saw a new side of Sable, it only deepened her respect for the woman. No wonder Hale was in love with her. Wren thought she might be half in love with her too. Sable was like a confectionery goddess.
Sable unfolded the paper and read it, one of her perfect eyebrows raising in an arch. “Interesting.” She folded it again and pushed it across the table to Wren.
“Do you know of the Sower’s Orphanage in the Industrial Quarter?”
“Yes,” Wren managed, her voice flat. “I thought it was closed.”
“It is closed. As far as I know, it has been for at least two years,” Sable said.
“So what about it?”
“This says that there’s over a thousand gold crowns going to the orphanage this month. Food, supplies, weapons…it’s all been requisitioned.”
“Weapons?” Wren said, surveying the page herself. “Even if the king had reopened the orphanage, he wouldn’t need weapons.”
“I think we found where Thom and the other Guild members are being kept,” Sable said, her dark eyes gleaming.
Wren closed her eyes, trying in vain to shove down the flood of anger and fear that surfaced at the mention of the orphanage. Why was life bringing her back to this place? She thought of Brother Brax, who she had crossed paths with at the palace. Was it possible he was helping the king? Running the orphanage once again? But this time, with a di
fferent type of captive within those foreboding walls?
“Wren?” Sable asked.
Wren opened her eyes, letting out a shaky breath. She had a sudden urge to tell Sable everything. As she looked into the woman’s dark eyes, her fearless expression, Wren knew she would understand. And gods, she needed to tell someone.
“I know the place. I was an orphan there for a short time,” Wren admitted.
“That could be helpful if Thom and the others are actually being kept there. Why don’t you seem happy?”
“The orphanage was…a front,” Wren managed. “For child slavery. I ran. I think the man who was running it may be involved in this.”
Sable’s face darkened. “Then we have two things to make them pay for.”
Wren nodded.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Sable asked softly. “What happened there?”
“Not really,” Wren admitted. “I was one of the lucky ones. I escaped.”
“It’s unforgivable,” Sable said, “what King Imbris does to children in his care. But mark my words—someday he will be called to account for his crimes. If not in this life, then the next.”
“I hope it’s this life,” Wren admitted, embarrassed by the vengeful spirit within her.
“Me too,” Sable said.
They sat for a moment in silence. “
We need to know for sure whether Thom and the others are being kept there,” Sable finally said. “We need to be sure before we can plan our next move.”
“I’ll go,” Wren said. “I know the area.”
“I wouldn’t ask that of you,” Sable said.
“I can do it. I want to.” Wren raised her chin. She needed to face these ghosts. To face her fear.
“You shouldn’t go alone. But I don’t want to send Hale. I just tore him a new one for sneaking around with you. I need it to settle in.” She tapped her lip with a polished finger in contemplation. “What about Lennon? I’m not one for sneaking.”
“Lennon?” Wren asked. “He doesn’t know about the Gifted…”