Betje gave a low whistle. “How do you feel? Does it hurt? Do you want a comfrey poultice?”
“No, I’m fine.” The warm throb of the healing wound felt like she was carrying sunlight under her skin.
“I told you he was your gargoyle.” Betje grinned, and Idabel couldn’t help the answering smile that spread across her own face. “Now that I think about it, this isn’t as strange as it first appears. Gargoyles have always taken mates from other species. Why do you think they’re all so different from one other? Some have horns, some none. Some have long tails and others short, and so on. Those variations aren’t chance.”
Idabel pulled back. “What do you mean?”
“They’re all chimeras. Part gargoyle, part whatever their ancestors mated with. Dragon, fae, human. Even goblin, thoughno one speaks of that anymore.” Betje’s fae marks glimmered faintly in the dim light as she smiled. “Your children will be unique. Part of both worlds. Like me.”
Children. The word sent a flutter through Idabel’s stomach. She could still feel the echo of Brandt inside her, the weight of him, the way he’d been so tender and patient with her. The way his body had stretched hers, both asked and gave.
Three sharp raps on the shop door shattered her thoughts.
“That’ll be Lord Wilkin.” Betje smoothed her apron with quick strokes. “I sent a message to him when you didn’t arrive. I thought he might have connections to help find out what happened to you.”
“It’s fine.” Though Idabel’s pulse quickened with dread. She wasn’t ready to report the bite, not with Brandt deploying tomorrow.
Betje opened the door, and Lord Wilkin swept inside. His cravat was loose, as if he’d dressed hastily, and his jaw was tight with controlled irritation.
“Well?” His gaze fixed on Betje before sliding to Idabel. “I assume there’s been some resolution, since you’re both standing here looking perfectly healthy?”
“My lord, I apologize for the inconvenience.” Idabel dropped into a curtsy. “There was a misunderstanding. I was delayed at the Tower and couldn’t send word.”
“Delayed.” He drew out the word like he was tasting wine. “How tedious. And here I thought we might have something interesting to discuss. Better you’d been mauled.”
Idabel sucked in a breath, but before she could respond, Betje reached to tug aside the edge of her chemise. Lord Wilkin’s words died mid-sentence. His entire demeanor transformed, his disgust melting into something sharp and hungry.
He crossed to her in two strides, leaning close to her so she could smell the rich tobacco on his breath. “Is that what I think it is?”
Idabel stepped back, hand flying to her shoulder. “No.”
“It’s a bite.” His voice held triumph. “You actually did it.”
“It’s not what you think—”
“Isn’t it?” He circled her like a wolf evaluating prey. “A gargoyle sank its teeth into you. This is exactly the evidence we need. The king cannot ignore such a violation of the ancient agreements.”
“I’ll call the king’s physician to document your wound.” Lord Wilkin’s hand settled on her elbow with proprietary familiarity. “Come along. My carriage is just outside. You can stay in Lamont House tonight.”
“No!” Idabel slipped from his grip, edging closer to Betje. Lord Wilkin scowled at her small defiance. Flustered, she fumbled for an excuse. “I mean, I couldn’t, my lord. The keepers would see it as inappropriate. I’ll lose my bed in Maiden Hall if I travel with you so late without a chaperone.”
“And?” He laughed, the sound sharp as breaking glass. “You’ll lose your bed when you leave your position, anyway.”
“There is every reason to observe propriety.” Betje stepped forward, her tone respectful but firm. “Idabel’s reputation must be unquestionable if her testimony is to carry weight.”
Lord Wilkin’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. “A fair point. Tomorrow, then. My daughter will be present to serve as chaperone for the meeting with the physician. Shall we say fourteenth bell?”
“I have duties at the Tower—”
“Which I will ensure you’re excused from.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re doing something magnificent for Solvantis. The least I can do is handle such trivial obstacles.”
“You’re very kind.” The words tasted like ash.
“Until tomorrow, then.” He paused at the door. Without turning back, he added, “Don’t think of disappearing. It would be a shame if we had to involve the Nadir immediately, before proper statements could be prepared.”
The threat hung in the air long after the door closed behind him.
“Well.” Betje locked the door with a decisive click. “That was unpleasant.”
