I’m going to freeze him out, ice him over. I’m going to make Tyndall regret ever marrying me.
A rare smile curves the pale edges of my lips.
I am Queen Malina Colier Midas, and I was born to rule.
Chapter 12
AUREN
Being made to ride alonein a carriage all day might be some kind of punishment—a silent reminder of my outsider status. But I guess there’s something to be said for solitude.
There’s safety in loneliness, but there’s alurking danger too. One that doesn’t come from anything other than yourself.
The danger for me, of course, is the memories.
The long hours offer me a lot of time to think. Without anyone else around, no distractions, no words besides my inner voice. There’s nowhere for those memories to be shoved away while I’m exposed, stagnant in my own festering company.
And so, I remember. Even though I don’t really want to.
“How many coins, girl?”
My six-year-old hands are sweaty, hidden behind my back, fingers curled tight.
The man looks me over, impatient, tired, a pipe stuck in the corner of his mouth that breathes out smoke of blue.
He snaps his fingers. Zakir doesn’t like to linger with me beneath the red striped overhang in the market square. If he’s caught peddling beggar kids, he’d be in a world of trouble.
Rain drips off the awning cloth like strings of drool hanging from snarling lips of the wild dogs that run rampant through the city. The sky hasn’t let up from its drizzle all day.
My hair is wet, making it look darker than it is, no shine to hide the matted knots. At least the burlap fabric of my dress helps sluice some of the water off, though I still feel like a drowned rat.
When Zakir’s glare grows dark, I quickly pull my hand out from behind my back, begrudgingly unfurling my fingers.
He looks down at the offering in my palm, pipe bitten between his back teeth. “Two coppers? All you’ve gotten all day is two bloody coppers?” he growls.
I tremble at his tone. I don’t like making him mad.
He snatches the coins and shoves them into his pocket. Taking the pipe out of his mouth, he spits at my feet, though I’m used to it enough that I don’t grimace anymore.
“All you gotta do is stand there,” he snaps, shaking his head as he looks down on me in disappointment.
His accent is harsh to my ears still, even after all these months I’ve been with him. Some of the other kids call him Toad behind his back, because he’s always making this croaking sound when he first gets up in the morning to clear his throat.
“Stand at your corner and smile, and these numps will practically toss money at ya!” he says, spitting the words like an accusation, like I’m not doing everything he’s told me to do.
I bite my lip, looking down at the ground, pinching my arm as a reminder not to cry. “It—it’s raining, Sir Zakir. I don’t get as much when it’s raining,” I explain shakily.
“Bah!” Zakir waves a hand dismissively. He digs through the front pocket of his checkered vest to pull out his box of matches, relighting the end of his pipe where the leaves got soggy from the rain. “Get back out there.”
My bottom lip wobbles. I’m hungry, cold, tired. Inara is a bad sleeper, and I got stuck next to her all night, crammed between her flailing legs and the corner of the room, so I’m dragging even more than normal. I’ve been looking forward to getting out of the rain, to being allowed to eat and rest.
“But—”
“You got rain in your ears, girl? I didn’t ask for argument.” Zakir flicks the used match at the ground. I watch it land in a puddle, flame smothered in an instant. “Six more coins, or else you won’t be sleeping inside tonight.”
Collar pulled up against his neck, hat placed on head, Zakir leaves, probably to go meet with the other kids, while I slink back to my designated corner in the market square, knowing full well I won’t earn six more coins.
I can usually get people interested enough to stop instead of walk by like I’m invisible, but under the shadow of dripping clouds, I’m just a wet beggar child, far beneath notice.
