What if all I had to do was ask?
Unless this was his way of spending time with me before he said goodbye.
If he cares enough to kill for you, then he’ll care enough to keep you.
But did he care? If he did, it felt wrong to use him that way. Especially when I might share some of those feelings. But perhaps that was what would make it so believable. The best lies were always knotted with strands of truth.
I slipped the silk scarf from my pocket. How uncanny that it played a role in my nightmare. I wound the scarf around myneck to hide the finger-shaped bruises Renwell had left on my skin.
The bruises would likely cause an uproar among the men I shared rooms with, and I didn’t want to answer questions. The idea that there would evenbean uproar sent a strange warmth through my blood.
I rose and washed my face quietly. After tugging on my boots, I left the room. Tiptoeing past a snoring Maz and a turned-away Aiden, I snagged an apple from the bowl and hurried into the pink dawn.
I arrived atThe Silk Dancerto an unusual level of chaos as the seven other dancers and Melaena fluttered to and fro. The girls swept armfuls of makeup from the tables into bags while others took quick baths in the corner. A few were already curling their hair and perfuming their skin. Melaena oversaw a few servants packing our delicate costumes, barking orders and redoing work.
I hurried up to her, breathless. “How can I help?”
She thrust a lacquered box into my arms. “Pack only the gold jewelry. Enough for all of us. Did you bathe?” she asked with a quirked eyebrow. She didn’t know how I could stand to live with three men and one bathroom for the whole building.
I grinned. “Last night, before I left here, like you told me to.”
She brightened. “Ah! Yes, because I told you the bath would be busy this morning. See what happens when I’m right?”
“You’re always right!” I called over my shoulder as I loaded the box with shimmering gold earrings, necklaces, and bracelets.
Several hours later, several gilded, curtained carriages arrived to carry us through the Noble Quarter to Asher’s mansion. I hated having to leave my knives behind, but I was a dancer today in a simple silk dress. I’d added a black silk mask that fluttered over most of my face. None of the other dancers questioned me.
And neither did any of the guards when we arrived at Asher’s mansion.
We stepped out of the carriages to meet two guards who opened Asher’s gates and ushered us inside. A high, spiked wall surrounded the meticulously crafted lawns that rolled out like a green, bushy rug from the street to the mansion. At least six more guards patrolled the grounds.
Asher’s mansion sat at the north end of the Noble Quarter, closest to the city wall and the river. Its domed roof and small spires were reminiscent of the Temple on a much smaller scale. Even so, three of the other townhouses lining the street could’ve fit inside this little palace.
The other girls squealed and pointed at the pearlescent peacocks and the gold lotus-shaped fountain. But I kept my focus on the guards as I hovered in the middle of the group.
More gasps peppered the air when the guards opened the double doors and whisked us inside Asher’s enormous atrium. Light flooded the white marble floors from the glass ceiling. A wide, sweeping staircase poured from two hallways high out of sight.
Workers in stiff, violet uniforms pattered across the marble, carrying embroidered cloths, silk ribbons, and vases of fresh flowers. An old man, who was perched on a ladder with wheels, scrubbed every gold-and-glass brazier to a sparkle.
A short woman with a battle-weary look snapped her fingers at us. “This way, and don’t touch anything.”
We herded along until she led us to a large suite of rooms that had its own bathroom, several large mirrors, and an assortment of gilded lounge furniture.
“Keep the noise down,” she ordered us, then shut the door with a snap behind her.
Immediately, the girls broke into a stream of chatter.
I simply breathed a sigh of relief. Until Jayde and Tullia approached me with pots of gold paint, a few horsehair paintbrushes, and gold chains.
“This will take a while,” Tullia sang, waggling her brush at me. She tossed her long red hair over her shoulder. “But first, let’s do your hair.”
An hour later, they had brushed my hair to a gloss and braided in gold chains dripping with gold shards that flickered when I moved. I praised their handiwork even as my scalp winced from the weight.
“Clothes, off,” Jayde commanded, snapping her fingers in an impressive imitation of Melaena. The statuesque blonde was formidable but well-meaning. I could see why Maz fell for her and Tullia’s differing charms.
Keeping my eyes averted from theirs, I undressed behind a screen, keeping my breast band and underwear on. I relinquished my scarf to the pile. My hair covered the scars at my back—for now—but Jayde’s blue eyes immediately fastened on my neck.
She scowled. “Wait here.”
