Leya’s whole demeanor shifted in a heartbeat. Excitement lit up her face with a kind of enthusiasm that left me stunned. How could she be so eager for this?
As I watched her, it became clear. Leya truly valued her position as a courtesan in a way I never could. I hadn’t chosen to become a royal consort. But she had trained for it. Studied for it. Dreamed of it. The thought stirred something uneasy in my gut, something I couldn’t quite relate to.
“Wait... how do you know that?” she asked quietly, her fingers brushing over Gadriel’s handwriting. “I’ve always wondered, how is it that you can read?”
“Oh.” I hesitated. “Someone taught me. A few years ago.”
She’d caught me off guard. No one had asked that before. The question cracked something open, and a rush of memories flooded in, each one aching, gnawing at the edges of me.
My right hand stayed hidden beneath my cloak, nails digging into my palm so sharply it hurt.
“Hmm, a tutor then?” Leya asked, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “How curious.”
“Something like that,” I said quietly.
“I had no idea tutors existed on the skirtside,” she added, her eyes widening. “Your family must have been fortunate to hire one.”
“They didn’t hire him. My family was so poor we often went without food for days,” I said, voice tightening. “I learned from someone passing through Brier Len. His—” I caught myself, cutting the words short. “You’d better hurry. The prince isn’t fond of waiting. He’d always be in a foul mood if I lingered too long after being called.”
“Right. Yes.” Leya nodded, almost to herself. “I should go now.”
She stood and ran her fingers down her waist, smoothing her dress, then turned in a small circle, scanning the room. Her grip tightened around the crimson tassel in her hand.
“Do you need help getting changed?” I asked, not entirely sure why I’d offered.
“No,” Leya said quickly. “No, I—I’m fine.”
She moved to the cot and lifted the silk robe, its emerald beads catching the lantern light. Her hands fumbled with the sleeves of her dress before she let it fall to the floor, slipping into the robe with stiff, uncertain movements. It was clear she was still absorbing everything.
After a pause, she hurried to the table and opened a silver chest, pulling out a gold chain and holding it carefully in her hands. She took a breath and fastened it around her waist, then reached for the crimson tassel. Her hands shook, she missed the loop once, twice, then a third time.
“Let me help you,” I said, stepping forward and gently taking the tassel from her. “Are you alright, Leya?”
“Yes,” she whispered, her breath catching. “It’s just... it’s finally starting to feel real.” Her ochre eyes met mine, something unreadable flickering in them. “You’re leaving Hyrall, and things will go back to how they were before you arrived.”
“One of those is certain,” I replied, looping the crimson tassel around the gold chain at her waist. “There you go. All set.”
Leya let out a breath, smoothing the skirt of her robe and pressing out the wrinkles. “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, but don’t do anything reckless while I’m away. You need to stay hidden, no matter how safe it feels. I want you out of sight the entire time I’m gone. Is that understood? I won’t let this be taken from me again.”
Her words hung in the air, heavy with quiet finality. I gave a small nod and gestured toward the coach door, my voice flat.
“Enjoy.”
14
His name was Caz.
That’s what I stopped myself from saying to Leya earlier. Even now, the memory of it carries the same sweetness it had the first time I heard it, and the same ache the last time I spoke it aloud.
“Hello?” a voice called from the front of the inn. “I’m looking for a room.”
“I’ll be right with you!” I called back, hands deep in a wash basin, scrubbing at a tin plate that had been sitting for days, crusted over with grime.
Somehow, after four months working under Griffin as a barmaid, I’d ended up managing the place myself. Cleaning, handling the rooms, overseeing the stables, keeping track of inventory, serving food and ale to patrons, the list grew longer by the week.
But, of course, my weekly coin didn’t reflect any of that.
Still, I didn’t complain.
