by Candy Crum
Looking around, she saw loads of furniture in with the good things, and she wondered just how much of what she saw looked just as terrible before the devastation.
Her brows furrowed as she thought about how they must have been forced to live. The sound of a small stack of wood dropping startled Marie, bringing her attention to a couple of men coming out of the Boulevard to sort them.
“Hey, Andrew!” she said, a large smile spreading across her face. “I don’t believe it. You guys have been hard at work! This is incredible. I never imagined you’d get so much done in so little time. How are you guys doing?”
Andrew stepped forward, using the back of his forearm to wipe sweat away from his face. “We’ve been working morning to night, ma’am. This was our home. We want to see it restored. If you can make that happen, we’ll do whatever we need to to help.”
“That’s wonderful to hear!” Marie said, her excited smile still intact.
Andrew paused for a moment, looking down at the ground before looking back at her. “I don’t trust nobles. Never have. I imagine you can understand why.”
Her smile faded a bit. She wasn’t offended by his words, but she understood them. She may not have lived in torn down conditions like he did, but she certainly lived under Adrien’s thumb. She knew his wrath just as much as anyone.
“I do. Very much. I can’t fault you for that.” She took a step forward, her expression reflecting the compassion she felt for him. “But I hope you’ll extend just enough trust my way to let me help you.”
“What do you get out of it?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Nothing. And I don’t want anything. I know what it was like to be under his thumb. Adrien’s, I mean. I worked directly under him for years, if you can imagine that. You don’t have to trust me—or any of us for that matter—but I hope you’ll at least give us a cautious chance.”
He looked behind him at the few guys that had come to stand several yards back. They said nothing, but seemed to share a silent conversation.
Andrew looked back to Marie and extended his hand. She paused for a moment as she looked from his eyes down to his hand and then back. She smiled and accepted it, hope filling her.
“I guess we can give you a shot. You seem harmless enough,” Andrew relented.
“Thank you. You won’t regret it,” Marie replied. “I saw the remnants of some broken furniture, but have you been able to salvage any of the sinks or bathtubs? And what about the magitech lighting? Even just the cores would be helpful.”
All of the men stopped and turned to face her, confusion on their faces.
“You’re joking—right?” Andrew asked. Her brows furrowed as she shook her head a bit. “Oh, wow, lady. You really ain’t joking. OK… So, poor folk don’t get magitech crystals. We have no reason to have tubs or sinks. We don’t have a lot of access to water. Just a pump in the street that everyone shares. When you’re that limited with water, a bath of any kind is a luxury. We don't get to bathe often. So, to answer your question, no. We haven’t recovered anything like that.”
Tears welled in Marie’s eyes. She knew they had it bad, but the thought of not even having something as simple as a hot bath or shower really hit her hard.
She cleared her throat. “It’s raining. You guys are done for the day.”
“We ain’t even close to done,” Andrew protested. “We have too much work to do.”
Normally, she would back down to anyone that pushed back, especially a large man, but not today. “No, you guys are far ahead of the schedule that I had in mind. Have you even eaten?”
Andrew once again looked back to his men before turning his attention back to her. “We’ll be fine, ma’am. We just need to get this done. If you plan to keep your word, you’ll need us to keep ours, or this’ll never get done.”
She nodded. “I agree, but you can take a break. It’s raining, and it’s freezing. You’ll all get sick, and then where will you be? Behind schedule. Now—why don’t you all follow me to the city building? You must be hungry. We have a kitchen there, among other things, like a private bathroom with a shower in it. Adrien had it put in.”
“That sounds uncharacteristically kind of him,” one of the other men said, a sarcastic laugh following it.
She shrugged. “Not really. As with most things, there were ulterior motives. Most of the time, he was in the Academy tower. But the city building is where the rest of us worked for him. He liked to overwork people, but he didn’t like having to smell them if they went too long without bathing. It was his way of keeping people living there to do whatever shit work he created until the factory was operational. Now, it’ll be used for a good cause.”
“I hate to agree with the noble,” one of the other men said, taking a few steps forward. “But we could really use a hot meal. I can’t say I’d be all that upset to have a hot shower after this cold rain either.”
“Great!” she cheered. “Then it’s settled! You guys will come back with me. You can use the shower, and I’ll get something hot to eat for you. It’s the least that I can do.”
The corner of Andrew’s lips curled in a grin. “If you’re not careful, we might just start to like you after all.”
Unsure of how to respond, Marie nodded once and turned to lead them back to the city building to treat them with the decency they’d clearly never been shown by the nobles, and maybe even to build a bridge between the new government and the people of the Boulevard.
And after, I need to find extra hands. These men can’t do it alone, she thought.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Things had calmed down a bit after Talia handed in the applications and accepted three of the five candidates.
Amelia seemed happy with Talia’s choices, and she was relieved that the Chancellor didn’t ask any questions about turning down the other two from out of town. She didn't want to take the chances on them knowing her or having plans of their own.
Calm as things may be, it was only because the shitstorm had yet to hit.
Those teachers would start in the morning, and Talia would be expected to give them the tour, introduce them to the students, and go over all the boring bullshit that came with being a new teacher—though, she assumed they would have at least a basic knowledge of how things worked, having been students at the Academy once themselves.
It had been over a week, and she had yet to get even the slightest bit of good rest. She couldn't figure out what she wanted to do with her little stowaway, but she had a feeling his time was coming.
Things had been progressing, and Jackson had come to her office twice. It was possible that she wouldn't need Amos any longer. He'd given her all that he would—possibly even all he could. He was becoming even more stubborn somehow, not weaker over time as she'd assumed.
Now with Jackson in her grasp, things would move much smoother. She’d had to feign interest as he whined about the Boulevard students—trying to gain his trust and feel out just how serious he was.
The only interest she'd had was looking for places where she might be able to plant seeds of her own. She was looking forward to his next few visits now that the groundwork had been laid, and she was ready to begin her real work.
Still, she'd run herself exhausted. She’d managed to be the little bitch for none other than the woman she knew firsthand had betrayed her father and was moonlighting as something far more sinister. Playing both parts was difficult at best, and she was drained. She was in need of some Talia time.
Tonight was the night. Screw everything else. Getting drunk was number one on the list, and she debated the possibility of even more than that. It just depended on what kind of men the city had to offer.
Though, she doubted there would be very many that could keep up with her—or her interests.
She pulled the hood of her cloak over her head and made her way to Sully’s Tavern. While she needed a night out, she didn’t want to be seen heading there. Appearances and all. She'd need to be careful.
&nbs
p; There was a bit of aged mystics’ brew in her office that she brought from home, but she’d need a lot more than what she had.
With shit money currently flowing around Arcadia, it was almost impossible to get more than a little of the drink into the city, though it had been rumored that Julianne, the master mystic that had helped with the rebellion, donated a bit at a time to Amelia to do with as she pleased. As some kind of morale booster.
Talia didn’t care if that were true or not.
She didn’t want any part of accepting anything from her or any other bitch or bastard that was tied to her father’s death. She’d have her relaxation the good old-fashioned way.
As she crossed the cobblestone road to the bar, she saw that the building had been damaged right along with the rest of that side of the city.
Most things in the noble quarter hadn’t been bothered too badly, but Sully’s wasn’t quite noble, not by a long shot. It sat on the edge of the Boulevard, and had always been theirs and theirs alone. But once the revolution was over, more and more nobles—at least those in the middle class—seemed comfortable going in there.
With the mixing classes, some had even become friends, and that seemed to have benefitted the establishment, as they were able to quickly repair it due to increased demand. The repairs had obviously been hurried and unappealing at best, but it had still been salvaged.
The Dragon’s Lair—the town brothel—had also been through a rushed rebuild, though that came as a surprise to no one. There were needs to be met, after all.
She opened the door to the bar and found the place brimming with life. Nobles and the lower class littered the bar at the back and tables all over.
Knowing how the city had been before, it surprised her to see just how many smiles there were and how much fun was being had. She groaned to herself, the sound lost in loudness of the shouts and laughs.
Fuck their happiness, she thought, her brows furrowing.
The stress of her long days and lack of sleep bubbled to the surface. She saw every one of them as a target. Each one an enemy of Adrien that now celebrated his death. They stayed after his defeat. There was no other reason for them to be there, disgracing the boundaries he’d put in place for good reason.
“Hey, beautiful,” a large man said, stepping in front of her. He was at least three times her size—all brawn. “You should come with me. Let me wipe that scowl off your face. Looks like no one’s done that in a while. I’m sure you could use it.”
Talia smiled, but it was dark and sinister. Then—it was gone. Her hand was a blur as it shot out from under her cloak and grabbed hold of his endowments.
His eyes immediately widened as he slumped forward, the lump in his throat bobbing up and down with every nervous swallow. His nose almost rested right against hers as she spoke.
“And exactly what do you plan to do once I tear this off and shove it down your throat?” She laughed as she applied pressure. “Funny. A man your size, I thought it would be more of a handful.”
His face scrunched in a pain-filled grimace. “H-holy shit,” he said, swallowing nervously again. “Not what I expected. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, sweetheart. Don’t be sorry for flirting,” Talia said, her voice soft, yet sadistic as she squeezed a bit more. “Be sorry for how you approached me. I’m a fucking lady. Learn how to approach a woman. The wrong approach to the wrong woman could end in you never needing to worry about such things ever again. Understand?”
“Yes! Yes, ma’am,” he choked out, his eyes briefly squinting at the pain before opening them and nodding wildly.
Talia smiled. “Good. Now, buy me a drink, and I’ll forgive you,” she said, releasing him.
He stumbled backward a few feet, taking several deep breaths as he regained his composure. After a few moments, he stood upright again, nearly a foot taller than Talia. Her brow rose as she placed her hands on her hips, impatiently waiting for his answer.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “Please, accompany me to the bar. You can have whatever you like.”
She smiled. “See? Now, how hard was that? You should know that I still plan to go nowhere with you, but I’m not a very happy woman, and you just made it worse. I feel like you should fix that with something other than your dick.”
“Honest and powerful. You must have a line of men after you at all times,” he said, his voice still a bit shaky from catching his breath.
A grin crossed her full lips. “When I choose for there to be, yes.”
She stepped forward then, signaling for him to move out of her way. Without a word spoken, he understood her demand and stepped to the side, allowing her to move toward the bar. He followed her, but didn’t sit, instead choosing to stand next to her.
There was stirring to her other side. “Wow,” a very drunk man next to her said.
“Uh-uh, buddy,” Talia’s new behemoth acquaintance said, looking over her head to the man on the other side that had her in his sights. “If you wanna keep your dick, don’t even think about it.”
“I didn’t realize you were taken, sweetheart,” he said.
Talia sighed, her eyes briefly closing as she forced her irritation to calm. She could feel the itch of her power licking at her palms, and she desperately wanted to use it, but knew better.
She had to remain—for the most part—virtuous in the public eye.
Her stunt earlier with the giant of a man was nothing she felt the Chancellor herself wouldn’t have wanted to do in the same situation, though she doubted Amelia would have had the balls to do it. She seemed too goody goody.
Her eyes twisted to the right, her head slowly following. He was a filthy, lower class man. Small. Thin. He looked weak. It only took a single handful of big boy on her left to completely control him.
This guy, she could break in half, and it made her sick that he found the confidence to approach her at all. The look on her face must have exuded every ounce of irritation and anger that she felt because his eyes widened.
Her voice was level and calm as she spoke, but her intention easily bled through. “I would like to sit here. Alone. And enjoy a beer… or twelve. I assume that will be quite alright with you. Because—I assure you that if it isn’t—I will see that it is.”
She couldn’t see the mountain of a man behind her, but she saw her target’s eyes look over her to the other man before nodding, picking up his beer, and walking away. She turned back to her new acquaintance.
She sighed. “What’s your name?”
“Erik, ma’am,” he said.
She nodded. “Good. Sit there. Don’t speak a word. Keep the other ass fucks away from me. Understood?”
He smiled. “And what exactly do I get out of this?”
She didn’t even bother looking at him, staring at the alcohol along the back wall. “You get to buy my first round, sit there, not speak a word, and keep the other ass fucks away from me. Is there a problem? Did I stutter?”
His smile grew as he shook his head. “I get the feeling if I say anything other than no, I’ll walk out of here more woman than man. So, no ma’am. No problem at all. Order your drink—whatever you want.”
“Good boy,” she said, waving the bartender over.
“What’s your name?” Erik asked. The bartender came to stand in front of them, and Erik briefly turned his attention. “Whatever she wants.”
“Do you have stock of the mystics’ brew?” she asked.
The man behind the counter nodded. “I do. We only have but a couple barrels left, so the price ain’t cheap, but we’ve got it.”
She looked to Erik before turning back to the bartender. “He’s good for it. I’d like a pitcher.”
There was a hearty laugh from her left. “First round, huh?”
“I said you’d buy my first drink. You never stated what size drink I should order. I’m sure if I got a normal sized mug, but asked for shot glasses to pour it into, you’d have still considered it one drink. Well, think of it as a very large mug, and consid
er yourself thoroughly educated on how to approach a woman and not piss her off,” she said, turning back to the bartender who was retreating to the back to fetch the brew.
“Duly noted. Not a mistake I’ll make twice. It’s rather loud in here, so I’m sure you didn’t hear me. What’s your name?” Erik shouted over the din.
“Oh, I heard you. I chose not to answer, which I’m choosing to do again. You know, for a large, silent bodyguard, you sure talk a lot. Maybe you should work on that. Right now would be fantastic,” she said. The bartender returned then, setting down a full pitcher and a glass. “Oh! Thank you.”
“Very welcome, ma’am. Thank you for coming in,” the bartender said, smiling as he turned to Erik.
Erik shook his head and reached into his pockets to fetch the coins before handing them to the bartender. “You’re not cheap to make up to, you know that? Also, calling me a bodyguard implies work. Work means getting paid. I’m the only one paying around here.”
“Careful, big boy. You’ll talk yourself into a second pitcher and out of a second date. Besides, you didn’t approach me because I looked cheap; we both know that. Also, my presence is payment enough. It makes you look good. Now, if I could only get that silence I asked for…”
He sighed. “Yeah, yeah. I hear ya. I’ll be at that table over there if you need me to rough anyone up for ya, princess.”
She flashed him a sarcastic smile before turning back to her drink. A heavy sigh of contentment escaped her as she drank from her glass.
It was loud, but it still relaxed her. It wouldn’t take long for the brew to kick in. As thoughts about work and even her father threatened to invade her mind, she pushed them right back out.
Being a magician had its benefits past the obvious. It also trained her to clear her head at a moment’s notice.
“Can I have everyone’s attention please?” a familiar feminine voice shouted above the crowd.
Talia groaned as she turned to see Marie standing just inside the door with a couple of large, strong looking men. She quickly faced forward again, lifting her hood back over her head. It wasn’t like she was doing anything wrong, but she didn’t want to risk it.