“Yeah, I heard she slit his throat and then stole his magic. His gold-touch went rampant after that, gilded all of Ranhold, killed a hundred people inside, but she escaped.”
“That’s why I don’t trust saddles,” another one says, his raspy voice sounding one syllable away from a coughing fit. “If they’re paid to fuck, they won’t give a fuck.”
Several hocking laughs sound out.
I nearly jump when Slade’s hand comes to the small of my back. “Did you want something?”
Blinking, I focus on the bracelets set out in front of me, suddenly feeling guilty that the lady has probably been showing me things and talking to me, and I haven’t paid attention at all. “No,” I say, shaking my head. “They’re beautiful, but I don’t need any jewelry.”
“No one trulyneedsjewelry, my lady,” the woman says. “But it’s nice to have something pretty.” She holds out a simple band that has a black jewel in the center of it.
My fingers trail over the soft silver metal. “It is very pretty.”
“We’ll take it,” Slade says, passing the woman money. Her whole face brightens up.
“See that?” I hear the man say. “Got her claws into our king, didn’t she?”
“She must fuck like a goddess and squirt out gold cum.”
More jeering laughter. The raspy man finally ending it with a whooping cough.
My fingers fist at my sides, and gold starts to lather against my palms.
Behind me, Digby goes ramrod straight a split second before he lurches forward. I whirl around and catch his arm just in time, feeling the gold in my palm glob up and soak into his sleeve. “Don’t,” I tell him with a shake of my head.
“My lady—” he grits out.
“It’s fine.”
His face goes red, but at least the rest of his bruises have faded away. “It’snot.”
“What’s wrong?” Slade asks, coming up beside me with the wrapped up bracelet, his gaze bouncing between Digby and me.
I drop my hand, tuck it into my pocket. Though Slade’s eyes don’t miss the faint handprint on Digby’s shirt.
“Nothing’s wrong,” I say with a smile, though I think it’s shaky, because his gaze turns more intent, and he looks around us, as if searching for whatever might have upset me.
But one look over my shoulder, and I see that the men have scattered like rats from a sewer. The gold in my palm hardens like an angry stare.
“Actually,” I say, turning back around. “I think I’d like to head back to the castle now.”
“Really?” Slade asks.
I nod, and he watches me for another moment before he goes to speak to the others. I look back at Digby, noting his expression is pulled tight, brows shut in together with a crease. Brown eyes casting off disappointment like a drawn out shadow.
“Should’ve let me say something to them.”
His grumbled words almost unearth some of the soiled weight that’s been dumped on my chest.
“You can say something until you’re blue in the face, and it won’t do any good. People rarely change their opinions when they’re argued with. They only tend to listen to the voices of those they already agree with.”
“It isn’t right. What they’re saying about you.”
I look around, catching the eyes of more people, their willful stares making me itch like the searching scratch of wayward fingers.
“Or maybe it’s exactly right,” I say beneath my breath.
Digby’s eyes sharpen on me, but Slade comes back up before he can say anything else. “I think I’d like to sit in the carriage on the way back, if that’s alright,” I say.
