“Diana has talent?”
“True.”
“And she is in the Tower?”
“True.”
“And she glamoured an entire ballroom to think themselves struck by lightning.”
“False.”
“Ah, well, the best stories always are.”Lady Guinevere sighed.“Your letter posed an interesting conundrum.”
Temple flattened his palms on the top of her desk.“I do not have much time.Were you able to brew the sort of potion I requested?”
“It took me some time to figure out what you were requesting.But one of my shopgirls comes from an alchemist family, and she told me you lot write in riddles when conveying sensitive information.I showed it to her, and she helped me puzzle it out.”
“I had no choice.The guards are reading my mail.”
“Free but not free.Not much better off than your wife.”
“Doesn’t matter how you read it, only that you did.Quick now.Were you able to brew something?”He likely had time, though.If the guards felt for Apollo what Temple had felt for Diana after a few drops of the love elixir, they would be easily led into doing whatever Apollo asked them to.
“I was able to brew something up, though”—she opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out a little glass bottle, black and round—“you understand it is likely highly illegal.Metal is set for a reason.”
So alchemists couldn’t meddle with it, open locks without keys, modify coins, or transmute innocuous metal ornamentation into lethal weapons.A small means of keeping them in check, controlling them.“I’ll take the risks.”
“Then take the bottle.”She snapped it down on the desk between them.
Temple grabbed it, replaced it with a large purse, heavy with coins.“Thank you.That’s for this”—he shook the bottle—“and for the woman soon to demand a refund.”
Lady Guinevere’s brow clouded.“Refund?What did?—”
“Borrowed her love elixir.”
Settling into the back of her chair, Lady Guinevere regarded him over steepled fingers.“I wish you luck in… whatever it is you plan to do.Do you need Bran?—”
“No.”Temple swept out the door and paused next to a potion mistress pouring a concoction into a brilliant amber glass.“This love potion?”he asked.
“Yes, sir, but?—”
“Thank you.”He snatched it up and pocketed it then ran for the door.The sun was still high and bright when he stepped back into the bustling square.
“You could have warned me first,” Apollo drawled.He leaned one shoulder against the wall to the side of the shop door.
“Where are the guards?”Temple glanced down the street in both directions, across the square.
“I sent them to a local pub, told them I wanted them to relax since they’ve been working so hard.”
“And that worked?”
Apollo shrugged.“And now?”
“You go away.”Temple strode down the street toward where he’d left his horse.He untethered Newton and mounted almost in a single movement.
“Wait for me!”
“Hey!”
