Maybe I shouldn’t have taught him how to use weapons, because he’s clearly capable of eviscerating a man with nothing more than words. I wish he would stop calling me that—but maybe that’s exactly the point he’s making.
A knock sounds at the door, and we both jump.
“Jake said he’d send food,” I say evenly, and I open the door to a serving girl, grateful for the interruption.
CHAPTER 29
CALLYN
I haven’t started calling the daily crowdstypicalyet, but there’s usually a lull before the dinner hour, and I’m often glad for the break.
Today, I’m not. I’ve been glancing at the doorway all afternoon, waiting for armed guards to storm into the bakery and drag me off to the gallows, while Nora wrings her hands and wails after me.
I should give my sister more credit. She’d probably attack a cadre of guards with a pastry knife. Or, more likely, she’d try to sell them a platter of sweetcakes.
These worries are surely foolish. No one has accused me of anything. No one has accusedJaxof anything. I’ve had nobles through the bakery for weeks, and the most drama I’ve seen was when two women argued over which was finer, my meringue-topped peach tarts, or the savory egg pies I laced with cinnamon and cloves.
I wish Alek hadn’t appeared. He could have told menothingand my answers to anyone from the palace would have been the same:I haven’t seen him.I don’t know what he’s doing.
Ugh. He’s insufferable.
But also … not. The barn has been repaired. The door leading into the bakery. Even the manger in the barn was replaced one day, and two new pairs of boots were left by the door, along with an oilcloth cloak for my sister.
His voice was full of worry when he told me about Lord Jacob. Worry … for me? It’s a new angle to all his visits, and I can’t quite make it match up. But it lights a flicker of intrigue in my chest, one I can’t quite douse.
I keep trying to balance all his acts of generosity and kindness with the way Alek treated Jax, and I never end up in the same place. Was Jax too greedy? Am I too gullible? Did Tycho really threaten Alek with magic, or was Alek the aggressor?
I don’t know, and I can’t ask Jax without making Alek think I’m revealing his secrets.
Nora is sweeping the floor while I fold meat and vegetables into pastries for travelers seeking dinner.
Outside, hoofbeats thunder in the lane, and my heart jolts. I wipe my hands on my apron and head for the window just in time to see three horses gallop past the bakery.
But the only thing down the end of this lane is the forge.
Jax.
Nora is at my side. “Clouds above. Was that the magistrate?”
Yes. It was. The horses were going too fast for me to identify the others. Just dark horses, two men and one woman.
My heart won’t stop pounding. I know he doesn’t have any more messages from the Truthbringers. Would Jax have taken to doing something else to get silver? Or could this be related to the first messages he carried?
Guilt drops in my stomach like a red-hot stone.
“Do you think Jax is all right?” Nora says. “Should we go see?”
I don’t know. I don’tknow.
I do know Alek won’t like it. But I don’t care. Jax is—was?—my best friend.
I return to the table and finish folding the pastries together, crimping the edges as quickly as I can.
“I’m going to go see about Jax,” I say to Nora. “I’m going to put these in the oven, and I want you to watch them. No drifting off into your stories just because I’m not here, you hear me? If we have a dinner rush and we don’t have meat pies, I’m going to make you tell all the nobles you got lost in a saucy romance. If you need something to do, you can make a few more cheese biscuits.”
I expect her to roll her eyes at me, but she glances worriedly at the window. “We haven’t seen him much, Cally-cal. Do you think he did something very bad?”
I swallow, and it feels like there’s a rock in my throat.
