She made her way toward us, a small smile on her face promising pleasure if we wanted it. “Are these new faces I see in this fine establishment? Tell me, my pretty little cockerels, what brings you to Doend this fine night?” It was hard to estimate her age, but I’d put her in her early thirties, maybe.
“Just traveling through. We have business with the Baron,” Hayle answered good-naturedly.
The woman leaned forward, only one sneeze away from her breasts losing their battle to stay in her corset. She raised a brow. “Is that so?” She placed a hand on his arm, and I felt Avalon stiffen beside me. “Have you tried the tasting menu here? It is quite… exquisite.”
You didn’t have to be a genius at subtext to realize she wasn’t talking about whatever bar menu the kitchen ran. She ran her fingers up Hayle’s arm, and at the same time Hayle shrugged away, Avalon stood, leaning forward and planting both hands on the table.
“Do not touch. He’s mine.”
The woman looked at Avalon with a cunning expression. “No need to fret, sweet thing, you can have a taste too. You’re pretty, and I’m not particularly discerning about who’s delivering the pleasure to the table.”
Clearing her throat, Avalon shook her head. “No, thank you.”
The woman let out a tinkling laugh. “So polite. Perhaps one of you other fine gentlemen might like to have a bite?”
Shaking her head more vigorously, Avalon met the woman’s eyes again. “No. They are all mine,” she all but growled.
This time, the woman’s carefully manicured eyebrows nearly reached her hairline. “All three? Sweet thing, maybe we should abandon the sausage on the menu altogether, and you can showme what wiles you have that keep three such fine specimens satisfied.” She laughed heartily. “Honestly, variety is the spice of life, so good for you, girl.” Just like that, the femme fatale act was gone, and she cocked her hip. “Where are you guys coming from?”
“Out west,” Vox answered imperiously, and I realized a distinct flaw in our plan. He looked like a pig farmer, but sounded like he’d been born with a silver spoon shoved up his ass. When the woman’s eyes narrowed, I knew she hadn’t missed that small fact either.
If I had to guess, I’d say these four women were informants, but for who was the mystery. Logically, you’d assume it would be the Baron of the Sixth Line, but why would he need to keep an eye on his own citizens?
The woman’s chin lifted slightly. “A real tragedy, the famine out there.”
“Yes, indeed. Someone should do something about it,” I agreed lightly.
She sucked on her teeth, raising a single, manicured brow. “Indeed.”
A bedraggled-looking boy appeared with a tray full of bowls—the infamous Linus, I assumed. The woman leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, making the boy blush. “Evening, Linus.” She rolled her shoulders and pasted the coquettish smile back on her face as she looked between our group. “Well, time waits on no woman. Perhaps we’ll have time to speak later?”
“Perhaps,” Hayle agreed. “It was lovely to meet you…?”
“Liselle. And you’re Hayle Taeme, Heir to the Third Line.” She pouted exaggeratedly. “I’ve heard some things about the prowess of the Third Line, but none of you ever come down this way. It’s a real shame. Tell your fellow Line members to visit Doend, so I can find out firsthand why your girl is so territorial.” She winked at Avalon and sashayed away.
We watched her go, before turning to our food. Avalon’s eyes lingered a little longer, and I could hear the doubt in her mind even without dipping into her thoughts; she was wondering how she could ever measure up to that level of feminine beauty.
“She was pretty,” she said with false nonchalance.
Hayle, to his credit, frowned. “I guess. Not as beautiful as you, though.” He fed her a piece of his bread, which was still steaming from the oven. “Her beauty is her armor.”
“All the better to spy with,” Vox muttered. “She was mining us for information.”
A kid in ratty pants that had been sewn up more times than I could count, and who looked about thirteen, appeared at the table. “Baron Marlee will see you tomorrow morning at nine,” he gasped out between puffed breaths. He’d obviously lived up to his role as runner.
Hayle smiled, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a gold coin. It was probably more than his parents made in a month. No kid should be working in a whorehouse, but clearly, age-appropriate jobs were for people with options.
The kid’s eyes went wide as he stared down at the coin. “Thank you, Heir Taeme.”
Liselle appeared behind the boy. “Take that upstairs and put it in the safe, Garus, and send your Pa for it in the morning.” She looked at Hayle disapprovingly. “Do you want the boy to be robbed on his way home tonight? You can’t give a child a month’s worth of coin and expect him to get home without a knife in his ribs.”
The boy, Garus, raced up the stairs. Hayle frowned at Liselle. “You won’t keep a cut for yourself?”
Liselle bristled. “I might be a whore, Heir Taeme, but this place ismyBarony, and unlike some rulers, I care for each and every person who steps foot across its threshold. Insult meagain, and you’ll find yourself in the tender hands of Doend after dark yourself.”
I skimmed her mind, and while everything about her earlier persona might have been fake, her outrage at Hayle’s suggestion she would steal from a child was all too real. I raised my hands placatingly. “Apologies, Miss Liselle. We just want to make sure the boy is taken care of, much like yourself. We didn’t mean to besmirch your integrity. There are many in your position who take a little off the top, as their ‘due.’”
Liselle grumbled beneath her breath, but couldn’t argue with those facts.
