“A lone man on a horse doesn’t seem worthy of much attention.” His mouth turns up in that slight smile. “A man trailed by Royal Guards generates alot.”
My eyes skip over his attire again. Now I understand the weapons and armor.
His gaze narrows just the tiniest bit. He sees me looking.
I flush, but I wonder if this is typical for him, judging everyone hemeets, worrying that he’s found himself in a risky position. It puts his silence on the walk in a new light. He’s not sharing secrets, but somehow, this feels like an extension of trust. For a spare second, I want to explain why I’ve been so wary and anxious. I don’t know if it’s his easygoing manner or the fact that we’re alone in the shop, but he doesn’t talk to me like a lord speaking to a lowly tradesman. He doesn’t speak to me like I’mlesser.
I’m such a fool. What even would I tell him?
I imagine confessing.A woman named Lady Karyl paid me to carry a message for the Truthbringers. I don’t know what it says, but I think Lord Alek is the intended recipient. She’s paying me twenty silvers, so it’s definitely something dangerous.
I’d be signing my own death warrant. Especially if Lady Karyl was right that nothing in the note could be traced back to her.
But I consider the man leaning against the work table.I would offer you mercy, he said.
He was talking about the horse, but just now, it feels like he was saying something different.
“What?” says Lord Tycho.
I blink, and my eyes skip away. I was staring.
I swallow. My father is right. My world is nothing but misfortune.
“Nothing.” I thrust a new shoe into the forge, then pull it out as quickly as possible so I won’t have to talk over the pounding of steel against steel.
I don’t have to worry. Lord Tycho says nothing more.
Minutes later, the mare is freshly shod, and I pull myself upright.
“You have my thanks,” he says. “How much?”
“Oh. Ah—ten coppers.”
He gives me a look and pulls two silvers from a pouch at his waist.
I don’t want to take them. It feels dishonest.
Which islaughable.
I take the coins from his palm. “Thank you, my lord.”
He takes the reins and draws them up over the mare’s neck. “Tycho.” He grabs a fistful of mane and swings into the saddle from the ground. “Be well, Jax.”
His feet slip into the stirrups.No spurs.
He clucks to the horse, and she springs into a trot, splashing through the slush.
“Be well,” I say, watching as the gently falling snow gradually turns them invisible. “Tycho.”
I drop onto the stool beside the forge and breathe a sigh. I slip the two coins into my pocket and pull the note from Lady Karyl free. Just looking at it makes my chest tighten again.
The forge is right here. I can end this right now and toss it into the fire. Wash my hands of the whole thing.
Hoofbeats sound in the lane again, and I startle, grabbing a rope to stand. I thrust the note back into my pocket. Is he coming back?
But no. It’s a tall chestnut gelding, coming from the opposite direction, being ridden too fast for the slippery conditions. The horse skids into the yard beside the forge, and the man dismounts before the horse has come to a full stop.
Lord Alek.
