by Logan Jacobs
“You ready for our bath?” Cimarra wrapped her arms around my stomach and leaned her head against my back.
“That was quick.” I could feel her hands were wet as it soaked through my shirt, and I turned to face her while I leaned back against the balcony’s railing.
“I love that you’re here with me,” she breathed into my chest.
“Me too,” I said as I kissed the top of her head. “Can I ask you something?”
“Ask away.” The blue-eyed beauty looked up to me as her chin remained on my chest.
“Is the theatre struggling?” I asked and brushed a strand of her hair away from her eyes.
“You notice the price change?” she chuckled as she moved her head off my chest.
“I did, not that it mattered, but I also noticed the upkeep of the place has uh … ” I paused as I thought of what I wanted to say.
“It’s nonexistent, I know,” Cimarra sighed before she continued. “I’ve told the count a few times that we needed to pay for some repairs.”
“So, is he?” I asked as the dancer moved back inside and unwrapped the robe around herself.
“I doubt it,” she groaned, “we can’t afford it.”
“Why?” I stepped inside and shut the balcony door behind me. “I mean, just a few weeks ago there were a few hundred people in the seats.”
“Have you forgotten?” Cimarra asked.
“About … ?” I delayed and hoped she would remind me.
“The dwarf wedding, Wade. ” Cimarra sat on the edge of her bed as she brushed her hair with her hands. “The elves invaded this place that night and slaughtered the bride and groom.”
“Hmph … ” I grunted as I recalled what had happened. It was the only option I had at the time, but I hadn’t realized there would be repercussions with the theatre.
“Customers are afraid the theatre is on the elven watch list now,” Cimarra said as she leaned back on the bed with her elbows. “That’s the reason we raised the prices to try and compensate for the lack of customers.”
“Does the count have any kind of plan?” I asked as I sat down next to her.
“He thinks he does,” Cimarra sniffed, “but it’s usually just me trying to figure it out for him.”
“Does he listen to you?” I asked.
“No,” she growled in frustration. “He expects me to do so much, you know?”
“Do I do the same thing?” I asked as I saw the frustration in her eyes. I didn’t want to burn her out. I didn’t want to send her into a panic over a business deal or anything like that.
I needed her.
Not just for our business, but my life.
“No, no … ” her tone softened as she scooted closer to me, “I want to help you. I love what we’re building together.”
I nodded, put my hand on hers, and then we both sat silently on the bed for a few moments in thought.
“All I know is if the theatre dies, so does our distillery,” I whispered. “We can’t let that happen.”
“I know.” Cimarra nodded. “That puts us in a tough situation.”
“Would he sell it?” I suggested.
“The theatre?” Cimarra sat up and looked at me as if I had sprouted wings. “I don’t know if he-- ”
“Or part of it?” I pondered. “We could sell our whiskey to the crowd and help bring his theatre to life again.”
“I don’t think he’d be interested in selling the whole theatre,” Cimarra began, “but we can maybe partner with him in some capacity. It’s a risky move, though.”
“To distribute and produce in the same area?” I asked.
“Exactly,” Cimarra’s eyes closed as she thought, “but as you said, we can’t lose the theatre or else we lose the stables.”
“I think it’s a risk we’re gonna have to take,” I said. “No matter what happens though, we need to handle the count delicately.”
“What do you mean?” the dancer asked.
“Well,” I said as I leaned back on the bed and rested on my elbow, “I don’t want him to think he has any kind of control over us. He’s a desperate man in a desperate situation.”
“And desperate men can do some stupid things.” Cimarra nodded.
“Exactly,” I said. “If we let him know we make whiskey, there are many ways our conversation with him can go.”
“Like?” Cimarra asked as she leaned back on her elbow as well.
“The most obvious one is he threatens to report us to the elves as soon as we tell him about our enterprise,” I said and scratched at my chin.
“If he does that, we ensure he stays quiet,” Cimarra replied with a slight shrug.
“Oh?” I chuckled. “What did you have in mind?”
“Nothing crazy.” Cimarra smirked. “The count is full of hot air. He looks big, talks big, and acts big, but he’s really a big coward.”
“That still concerns me,” I sighed. “If Hebal, the elves, or any other enemy we make find out he’s working with us and get their hands on him, they’ll make him squeal like a fat fucking pig.”
“We don’t have to tell him all of the details,” Cimarra suggested.
“But he’d still need to know about the whiskey,” I added.
“Yeah, he would,” Cimarra said as she pulled a loose thread from the blanket on top of the bed. “Especially if that is our main selling point as to why he needs us. So, we really need him to understand that without us, and without our whiskey, he’d lose his theatre. And trust me, that would be worse than death for him. The man has an elven sized ego, and his show has been feeding it for a long time now.”
“How do we make sure he understands that?” I asked. “You’ve said he’s been ignoring the money issues and putting them all on your shoulders.”
“Yes,” Cimarra sighed and took a deep breath, “but I’ll show him the theatre’s books from this past month and make sure he understands the truth.”
“And what’s that?” I asked.
“If nothing changes, the theatre is dead within a few months at the most,” Cimarra said as she ran a hand through her long dark hair. “We can use his desperation to our advantage.”
“Hmm,” I hummed in thought. “Say we do manage to convince him to partner with us or sell part of the business, would he try and blackmail us down the line?”
“Not if we make him feel needed,” Cimarra breathed. “I’ve known Count Kieran for many years now. That elven sized ego can also be used to our advantage.”
“Okay, we can try and make him feel included without actually including him.” I nodded. “But speaking of elven egos, we have to think about them, too. What keeps an elf from walking in one night and seeing every asshole in the district with a glass of whiskey in their hands?”
“I haven’t seen an elf walk into the theatre to watch a show in many years,” the dancer said.
“But right now, people think the theatre is still under the elves eye. So, how do we even address that?” I asked.
“If the count agrees to some kind of partnership, we essentially relaunch the theatre,” the dancer explained as she bit her lip. “We create a fresh start and wipe away the memory of the elven raid.”
“How would we do that?” I asked. “We’ll need more money to update everything and then some sort of way to get the word out.”
“I can come up with a business plan,” she said as she batted her long eyelashes at me. “I, uhhh, well, I’ve had ideas for a while, but the count never really wanted to hear them.”
“I really want to hear your ideas,” I replied and gave her a smile. “You are one of the smartest people I know.”
“Thank you, Wade,” Cimarra said as her ice-blue eyes stared into mine. “Most just see me as a dancer.”
“You know I see you as more,” I murmured.
“Yes,” she laughed lightly. “That is why I am here, naked and wet, in bed with you and wondering when you are also going to be naked and wet with me.”
“Oh, I can’t wait for that ei
ther,” I laughed. “But I have a few more questions about the plan: how do we ease everyone’s worries that the elves aren’t watching still? Especially after we start serving whiskey?”
“We can think of a procedure to alert the audience before the show,” she mused as she tapped her long finger on her bare arm. “We’ll have guards stationed at the entrances to the property at the gates and then another group at the tent openings. If they see elves coming, then we can alert everyone inside during the show.”
“I like it,” I said as I smiled at her, “but how will they get rid of the drinks?”
“We might need to build something,” she began as she bit her lip. “What about some sort of small trough below the seats? Then everyone could pour their drinks out, and we can have a flushing system to wash everything down the drain.”
“That’s a great idea,” I replied, “but we’ll need to build it, so it will cost a--”
“I can figure out how much it costs,” she interrupted as she laid her finger on my chest. “I think our customers would do anything to keep drinking, as long as they knew we had a way to get rid of the evidence.”
“They can still give us away if they’re drunk, though,” I chuckled. “I think we’d need to set a two glass limit, so a bunch of drunk people aren’t stumbling out of the theatre doors after the show.”
“I agree,” the dancer said as she placed her hand on top of mine. “We’ll do everything in our power to make sure we don’t get caught.”
“That’s all we can do,” I said as I held her hand.
“If this works out, we can make some good coin, save the theatre, and use it to distribute.” Cimarra smiled wide as she squeezed my fingers.
“I know,” I said as I took my hand out of hers, slid off my shirt, and tossed it in the corner. “So, you’ll talk to the count, just to see if he’d even be interested?”
“Yes, I can set up a meeting for us.” The dancer nodded.
“Perfect,” I whispered as I leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. “Ready for that bath?”
“Yeah,” Cimarra purred, but I could tell she was still strategizing in her mind for our next move.
I think I was in love.
Chapter 10 - Penny
Dar and I waited in the stables for Wade so we could talk about what our next step with the elven painting. Wade was convinced it would lead us to another chest the magic keys opened, and if this next chest was as powerful as the keys were, then it was worth it.
Wade.
Just the thought of his name confused me. Or maybe it annoyed me. Or maybe … well shit. I didn’t understand why I felt the way I did toward him, and my feelings for him had grown even more complicated after he and Cimarra saved my life.
There was part of me that wished my stab wound didn’t heal that night.
Was that wrong?
I could’ve drifted off into oblivion free from the hold Wade and this fucking realm had over me.
The day after I was stabbed, I’d told Wade I really didn’t have those feelings for him and was delusional with pain. His face had dropped when I said the words, and the tiny glimpse of pain I saw in his eyes hurt me more than the blade that gutted me.
I didn’t understand how the threat of death made me suddenly say those things to Wade. But as soon as life was made possible for me again, it made me shrink and hide.
I couldn’t live my life on the brink of death at all times, could I?
Maybe I was just a coward and afraid to admit it.
It wasn’t a maybe. I was just a fucking coward, or else I would have told him I never wanted to be without him.
“How’d yesterday go?” Dar’s question jolted me from my thoughts.
“Yesterday?” I asked as I stroked Azure on my lap. The dragon was dead asleep, but his butt was a little too big now and kept sliding down my leg. He’d finally get comfortable, and then the motion of his butt drifting down my leg would wake him up.
“Yeah, did you get the papers we needed?” Dar clarified as he cocked an eyebrow at me.
“I got ‘em.” I tapped the satchel by my side but tried not to move too much since Azure finally found a comfy spot on my leg to hold his ass.
“No issues?” Dar gestured for more information.
“What do you want to hear?” I scoffed and rolled my eyes at him. Sometimes he didn’t know when to be okay with silence.
“I’m just curious is all,” Dar grunted and started to walk toward the back of the stables. “You don’t have to be so snappy.”
“I’m sorry … ” I gently lifted Azure and placed him in a pile of hay in the corner. “I think I’m just nervous about this heist.”
“I am, too.” Dar turned back to face me. “I hope we do it soon and get it over with.”
“Well … ” I cleared my throat as I opened my satchel.
“What?” Dar asked.
“We’ll have to do it tonight.” I smirked.
“Okay,” Dar said as he stretched out his neck and shoulders like he was warming up to exercise. “Why tonight?”
“The district entry date expires tonight on our fake papers,” I said as I pulled out the documents and tapped the corner of the first page.
“Ahhh, shit,” Dar chuckled. “Why couldn’t the counterfeiters put a different date on the papers?”
“First off, I didn’t know what day to tell them.” I shrugged. “With how much running around we’ve been doing, it’s hard to know what the hell is going to happen in the next hour, let alone the next day. Second, the counterfeiters wanted to charge me a shit ton more per each day added.”
“Why?” Dar scrunched his brow in thought.
“Apparently, the elves require a unique stamp on entry documents for specific days of the week,” I said as I rolled my eyes. “And because I didn’t know what day to tell them, I just told them to do the stamp for tonight.”
“Makes sense.” Dar nodded. “Looks like we’re robbin’ an elf then.”
“Yeah,” I began. “Hopefully, that’s okay with Wade.”
“I think it has to be.” Dar smirked. “We have no other choice.”
“I hope the painting is worth it,” I muttered.
“Yeah,” Dar agreed. “I trust Wade, though. He wouldn’t lead us into something that wouldn’t benefit what we’re trying to do.”
“I know.” I paused and then cleared my throat. “Where is he, anyway?”
“Not sure.” Dar shrugged. “He never came back here last night.”
“Oh,” I said, and my stomach knotted a bit.
I didn’t bother asking if he’d seen Cimarra.
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Dar chuckled.
“Yeah,” I muttered.
Dar was right, though.
Wade was smart, and he had to be at his brightest with this whiskey thing we were doing.
But at the guild, our one rule, if it could even be called that, was no elves. I guess I just had to try and leave the guild mindset where it belonged: with Hagan’s dead body.
“Hopefully, he didn’t get arrested … again,” I said as we both chuckled at the thought, but our laughs quieted since that was a real possibility.
Before we could dwell on our thoughts for too long, the stable door swung open.
Then Wade walked in with Cimarra on his arm.
I knew this was coming, but my stomach still turned to ice, and I didn’t know what to do with my hands. I wanted to run.
Fuck, I hated this.
It wasn’t anger I felt. It wasn’t even envy, since I liked Cimarra. Okay, maybe it was a bit of envy, since I wanted to be on Wade’s other arm, and I knew I could be, but another part of me refused to believe happiness would be allowed.
What would be the point if we were going to die anyway?
This internal tug-of-war was a type of torture, and I felt it whenever Wade walked into the room.
“Why are you both looking at me like I’m a ghost?” Wade asked as he looked to both Dar and me.
&
nbsp; “We thought you might’ve been arrested, again,” Dar chuckled.
“Yeah,” I agreed as I swallowed the ice growing in the pit of my stomach.
“I’m still here,” Wade smiled and rubbed his hands together. “You both have to update me on what happened yesterday.”
“I think the pixie should go first,” Dar said as he nodded toward me. “I hope your schedule is free tonight, pal.”
“Okayyy?” Wade said and tilted his head.
“We’re gonna have to rob the elf tonight,” I said as I held the counterfeited documents up for Wade to see.
“Lemme see those,” Wade said before he moved away from the dancer and took the documents from me.
“So, what do you think?” I asked after Wade looked them over for a few moments.
“I think we need to get the wagon ready to leave.” Wade folded the papers and extended them back to me. “Did you come up with the name of the event?”
“I did.” I smirked.
“What is it?” Dar asked.
“See for yourself.” I threw the folded papers at the halfling, and he actually made a nice catch.
“Lord Thuridian’s Moon Festival?” Dar grinned. “Is that even a real noble?”
“No clue,” I shrugged, “I figured it would be easier for us to make up an elf than to pretend we had organized an event with a real one. Plus, there’s always some elven fuck hosting a party.”
I wasn’t sure how true that was, but that’s what I pictured the elves doing with their time. The other districts did most of the work for them.
“Yeah, they have nothing better to do,” Wade said as he walked over to check on the grain that was almost ready for distillation. “And if we’re questioned about it at the gate, we can make up a story about a fake event much better than a real one.”
“That depends on how good the liar is,” Dar said.
“We won’t let you do the lying then,” I snorted.
“You wish you could tell a story like me,” Dar quipped as he threw the papers back at me.
“I’ll do the talking.” Wade leaned over the tubs and glanced back to us behind his shoulder. “We keep it simple and believable, just like the papers say.”