by Claire Luana
Hale had let out a boom of laughter and put his arm around Wren’s shoulders, pulling her sideways into his body with a squeeze. “I’m glad you’re here, Wren. Things have been far too dull for far too long.”
Her traitorous body had shifted from anger to something low and tingly in a second, responding to his warmth and scent of orange and spice. She’d shrugged his arm off her, not trusting herself to remain in her right mind if he continued the contact.
They had arrived at the bedchamber Sable had secured for Wren, and Hale had swept through the door, ducking his head slightly to enter.
The room was larger than Master Oldrick’s whole shop and was adorned with handsome wooden furniture with wrought-iron legs. Green succulent plants curled in containers on the desk and wardrobe, and gauzy white curtains covered the window panes.
“It’s not much, but it’ll do,” Hale had said, looking around, opening the wardrobe to reveal its empty shelves.
It had been difficult for Wren to take in her surroundings, so attune had been her awareness to the fact that this godlike man stood in her bedroom. It was frustrating, really, how her thoughts seemed to addle when he was near.
He’d continued his exploration, crossing to the other side of the room to the bookshelf, where a few volumes sat lonely and unused.
“See,” he’d said. “Chocolate everywhere.”
He’d tossed another chocolate to her from the bowl on the shelf, which had promptly sailed over her shoulder before she’d gotten her startled hands up to intercept it.
“Will you stop that?” she’d asked.
He’d cackled and crossed to the bed, giving it a few bounces as he sat. The bed was covered in a cloud of white pillows and comforters, but nothing was so dreamlike as him sitting on it.
He’d grinned roguishly at her wide-eyed expression, and realization had dawned on her. He’s doing this on purpose! He knew his impact on women and he was exploiting it for his own merrymaking.
Wren’s eyes had narrowed. “Thank you for showing me to my room. Now if you don’t mind, I’ve had a trying day and should get some sleep.”
“Want me to tuck you in?” He’d leaned back on his elbows, the collar of his striped button-down shirt opening slightly to reveal a V of tanned flesh.
“No, thank you.”
He had stood in a flash. “Good girl. I’ll see you in the morning for your first lesson.”
Wren’s mind replayed the scene in a loop, her face flushed in memory. Wren’s position here was precarious, to put it kindly. The last thing she needed was to muddy her thinking with some school-girl crush. Especially on a man who must have had women throwing themselves at him on an hourly basis. She’d only embarrass herself.
She wasn’t bad-looking, she supposed; her thick, auburn curls had drawn compliments in the past from customers, and her face was petite with tilted eyes and elfin features. But that was where the good ended. Her skin was pale, and her frame was thin, lacking any semblance of feminine curve. No doubt Hale had sampled choicer morsels than she. Not that she even wanted to be sampled, she reminded herself. No attachments was her rule. That included romantic ones.
She finally threw the covers back, huffing. Though the light of the August sun barely cleared the horizon, she could tell there would be no more sleep this morning.
As she filled the copper bathtub with hot water from the tap, she pondered the mystery of Kasper’s death. She was sorry he was gone. He had been kind to her. In the few minutes she had known him, he had struck her as a warm soul with infectious enthusiasm for life and his craft. Wren had always felt a bit sorry for those types of people, as in her estimate, such optimism could only be a byproduct of naïveté about the cruel nature of the world. Though it didn’t seem to be so with Kasper… He had been savvy enough to rise to the top of this complex world.
Master Oldrick’s apprentice Hazel was the bubbly type, hailing from a big family full of warmth and love and bedtime stories full of hope. Wren had been sure that some twist of fate would open Hazel’s eyes to their harsh reality sooner or later and had been ready to commiserate about dashed dreams and unscrupulous men. She felt a sudden twinge of fondness, though she had never been fond of Hazel before. Would she ever see her again?
Wren stepped into the heat of the water, shuddering with pleasure. Master Oldrick’s shop had been too small for a proper bath; she had washed at the public bathhouse once a week. Bathing alone in this giant tub of water was an unprecedented luxury.
Wren drifted for a time in a warm haze, the tension in her body uncurling until her muscles felt as soft as taffy.
Her mind was buzzing with pleasant nothingness when the door to her bedroom opened. Wren sat up in the tub, sloshing water onto the slate tile floor. “Don’t come in!” she shrieked.
“Wren?” a feminine voice called, unsure.
Wren peeked around the end of the tub and sighed with relief. “Olivia, thank the Beekeeper. I thought you were Hale.”
Olivia approached, standing just shy of the bathroom doorway. A sly smile crossed her face, the gossip clearly too juicy to pass up, even if it concerned an accused murderer. “Why would you think I was Hale? Did something happen between the two of you?”
“No!” Wren said, her ears burning. “He showed me to my room last night, that’s all.”
“Uh-huh,” Olivia said with a giggle.
“Hand me that towel?” Wren asked, pointing to the fluffy, white monstrosity hanging on the iron rod.
Olivia obliged and then turned her back, giving Wren privacy.
Wren dried herself and grabbed her faded dress, pulling it on.
“All done,” Wren said. “What are you doing here?”
“I brought you breakfast,” Olivia said, crossing to the desk and pulling the silver cover off a tray of biscuits, jam, and coffee.
“Thank you,” Wren said, sitting down and slathering the first biscuit with thick clotted cream. She didn’t care if she was being rude. She hadn’t eaten in a day, as her neglected stomach reminded her. “I have to say, though, I wasn’t sure I’d see you again.”
Olivia looked out the window, wiping an invisible smudge off one of the diamond panes. “I’m sorry I had to leave so suddenly yesterday.”
“This is amazing,” Wren said, staring in shock at the biscuit in her hand.
Olivia giggled, swiping a dollop of cream from the ramekin and popping it in her mouth. “All our food comes from the other guildhouses. Best you’ll ever eat.”
Wren finished the biscuit and began slathering another. “I’m so very sorry about the guildmaster. Your grandaunt must have been very upset. Did they know each other a long time?”
A sad smile flitted across Olivia’s pretty face. “You could say that. Kasper was my granduncle. My grandaunt’s twin brother.”
Wren’s hand flew to her mouth in horror. “I didn’t know. How awful.”
“How could you?” she said, her rosy lips puckered in a frown. “It’s all right. I don’t believe what they are saying for a minute. That you poisoned him. What a terrible thing to suggest.”
“You… believe I didn’t do it?”
“Of course! You jump at your own shadow—how could you be a murderer! And why? You’d never even met him. It’s a big misunderstanding.”
“That means more than you know,” Wren said, though guilt snaked through her. That word again. Murderer. If Olivia knew of Wren’s past, she might not be so quick to dismiss Wren as a suspect. But Wren hadn’t murdered Kasper, despite what else she might have done. So she’d accept Olivia’s goodwill. She had never cared about having friends, but somehow, she wanted this girl to like her. Needed her to. Olivia could be an anchor against the swirling tides of this place.
“Now, it may take Grandaunt a bit longer to reach the right conclusion. She’s distraught at Kasper’s death, and Callidus was telling her all manner of horrible things about you last night. But Grandmaster Sable has sponsored you, and that will count for something. Grandaunt will come
around, don’t you worry.”
Wren nodded, washing down the last of her biscuits with the heavenly black coffee.
“Hungry, were you?” Olivia retrieved a crumb from the silver tray and ate it.
“I didn’t end up getting dinner last night,” Wren said.
“That’s embarrassing. We’re normally excellent hosts here.” Olivia frowned. “Why are you wearing the same dress?”
“I only have the one,” Wren mumbled. “Callidus grabbed me so quickly yesterday, I didn’t have time to bring anything.”
“Honestly, is everyone in this place totally incompetent?” Olivia threw up her hands. “We’re going shopping today.”
“I’m supposed to have a lesson with Hale,” Wren said. She didn’t feel like mentioning that she also had very little money. She did have the gold crown she had won off Kasper, but somehow, she didn’t want to spend that. It was all she had to remember the little man by.
“You can’t need the whole day for your lesson,” Olivia said, pulling Wren to her feet. “And I need the distraction. Let’s go find him.”
Chapter 6
Olivia gave Wren a tour of the entire Guildhall in their search for Hale. It was three sprawling stories—ballroom, dining hall, conservatory, kitchens and pantries, and servants’s quarters on the bottom floor; living quarters for guildmembers and guests, classrooms, and the library on the second floor; with offices, meeting rooms, and the guildmaster’s suite on the third.
The icing on the white marble cake was the rooftop deck. Wren gasped as the nondescript door at the end of a lonely corridor opened to reveal a stunning vista of sugary morning light.
“Beautiful,” Wren breathed, her spirit lifting as if ready to take flight. The Cerulean Bay sparkled in the light of the morning sun, which hung heavily over the unfurled carpet of stone that made up Guilder’s Row. Raised beds brimmed with fresh herbs and vegetables, filling the air with the fragrance of warm cherry tomatoes, flowering summer squash, and sweet snap peas. There was even a beehive in the far corner of the terrace, its inhabitants buzzing purposefully from plant to plant.
“I come up here when I need to be alone,” Olivia said, basking in the tangerine sun with an upturned face and closed eyes. “Some of the servants come out here to tend the garden, but it’s usually deserted. I figured you could use a place like this. Especially if Hale is going to barge into your room unannounced.”
“I’m not sure if I’ll need to worry about that. Apparently, the man has disappeared,” Wren said. They hadn’t been able to locate him despite venturing into every nook and cranny of the Guildhall.
“I had hoped he’d be up, but he’s probably sleeping in,” Olivia said. “He’s often out late—partying with the other guildmembers at the bars on Nysia Avenue. Let’s return the favor and barge in on him!”
“That’s a bad idea,” Wren said, but Olivia was already pulling her back inside.
Wren found herself shoved in front of a rough wooden door on the second floor. They had ended up where they’d started, just three doors down from her own. It made her stomach flip, thinking of Hale so close.
Olivia stood behind her, practically bouncing with impatience.
Wren rapped lightly on the door.
Nothing.
“He’s not here.” Wren turned, but Olivia spun her back around. “Nice try.”
Wren took a deep breath and rapped harder. “Hale?”
Muffled sounds and curses emanated through the thick door.
She took a step back.
The door flew open to reveal Hale wearing nothing but a pair of low-slung pajama pants.
“New girl,” he said, squinting and rubbing his hands through his golden hair. It was out of its tie from yesterday and hung in tousled waves over his shoulders.
Olivia let out a soft peep behind her, and when Wren glanced back, she saw Olivia’s wide eyes transfixed by Hale’s bronzed chest and ripping stomach.
Wren’s face burned and she looked down, trying to regain some semblance of composure. If she didn’t look directly at the man, she could just free her tongue from the knots it seemed tied in.
“Olivia and I would like to go into town to run an errand,” Wren blurted out. “Can we push our lesson to this afternoon?”
“Yah,” Hale said in a sleepy voice. “I never start lessons until after noon, anyway.”
A thump sounded inside his room, followed by a feminine exclamation.
Wren looked up into his face, growing cold. “Is there someone in your room?”
A leisurely grin spread across Hale’s face. “See you this afternoon, chickadee.”
The door closed, and Wren turned woodenly. “There was someone in there!”
“Who cares?” Olivia squealed, linking her arm through Wren’s and towing her down the hallway. “Did you see his stomach? I so hoped we’d get to see his stomach.”
“You hoped…” Wren said. “You little traitor! You planned this.”
Olivia let out her infectious giggle. “And you fell for it. I’m so glad you’re here. We’re going to have so much fun.”
“If I don’t get tortured and executed as a murderer,” Wren grumbled.
“Yes, that.” Olivia frowned, a flicker of melancholy flashing across her face. “Shopping first, then we’ll work on solving the murder.”
“I think you have your priorities out of line,” Wren said, but she relented, allowing Olivia to pull her downstairs. She was content, for now, to let Olivia lead until she got her bearings in this place. Besides, Wren suspected that Olivia needed this trip as much, if not more, than she did.
They stopped in the Guild Controller’s office on the first floor, where Olivia explained that Wren needed an advance on her monthly stipend.
“Stipend?” Wren whispered, as the praying mantis of a man uncurled himself from his ledger to head to the safe.
“Of course! Grandmistress Sable didn’t tell you? You’re a journeyman now; you’re entitled to wages. Sable is quite generous.”
“Wages?” Wren’s eyes grew wide.
“Your former master never gave you a wage? All of them are supposed to, even if it’s small. How did you buy clothes? Pay if you went out to eat?”
“I didn’t do any of those things,” Wren mumbled, thinking of how she had hoarded the precious tips customers had slipped her, sneaking out to buy a new dress to replace the one that had gone up over her knees after her growth spurt two years before.
Olivia’s eyes were wide. “What did you do with yourself? Didn’t you have any fun? Friends?”
“I worked a lot,” Wren said. Work was safe. Work didn’t get you into trouble, or break your heart, or try to take advantage of you. “I’m a very good confectioner.”
“There is more to life than work,” Olivia said, which drew a snort from the controller as he returned, dropping two gold crowns into Wren’s hand.
“This is my… monthly stipend?” Wren whispered in awe.
“Like I said,” Olivia beamed. “Quite generous.”
As the girls walked into the antechamber of the Guildhall, Olivia faltered. “Brace yourself,” she whispered. “You’re about to meet Marina.”
A stately brunette approached from the dining hall, towing a young man in her wake. “Olivia,” the girl said. She was lovely, her grass-green eyes set off by the emerald of her well-tailored dress, her ample bosom set off by its tight embroidered corset. Somehow, Wren admitted, to her annoyance, the horn-rimmed glasses the girl wore seemed to compliment her effortless beauty, rather than stifle it.
“Marina,” Olivia said coolly. “You’re looking well this morning.”
“I am, aren’t I? And I see you’ve made a new friend. Forced to choose from the murderers and thieves now, are you?”
“Alleged murderer,” Wren said more calmly than she felt, the word stabbing at her gut, years-old guilt and shame threatening to bubble forth. She shoved it back down, focusing on the enemy at hand. She had dealt with this type before, leaders of o
rphan gangs who ruled by fear and cruelty. To not be inside was to be outside, and to be outside was to be a target.
“I’ve heard that the poison was in your cupcake,” Marina said. “I’ve never made a confection so bad it killed someone, but I suppose it’s possible.”
The lanky, black-haired boy behind Marina looked away, as if made uncomfortable by Marina’s words. Perhaps he had been fond of the guildmaster.
Wren swallowed an angry retort, instead taking Olivia’s hand in her own and pulling her towards the front door. She didn’t need to draw this girl’s ire more than she apparently already had. Callidus and Willings were enemies enough. Keep your head down. Don’t draw attention.
“They’ll string you up before the month is out,” Marina announced behind her.
“Oh, Marina.” Olivia turned back. “There was a visitor in Hale’s room this morning. I thought it might be you, but… alas, it looks like he has truly moved on.”
Marina’s eyes narrowed as Wren and Olivia turned and swept through the front door, Wren struggling to keep the smile off her face.
Olivia leaped down the giant steps of the Guildhall, turning right towards the fashion district of the Guilder’s Quarter. Wren hadn’t spent much time in this part of Maradis, but she had a general sense of the layout. Most of the business and commerce occurred in this quarter. Maradis itself was sandwiched between the Cerulean Bay on the west and Lake Crima on the east. It was a lovely city, bordered by blue water, green trees, and white-tipped mountains. It was no wonder the Imbris clan had chosen it as their capital when they had officially crushed the other clans and driven them east, over the mountains.
“Were Hale and Marina really involved?” Wren asked as they wove through the shoppers on the busy avenue. She couldn’t help but be curious about Hale. She had never met anyone like him—so… exuberant. Bold? She wasn’t sure how to categorize him. The man unapologetically took up the space of two people in the world. While she took up less than one.
“Briefly,” Olivia said. “She’s desperately in love with him still.”