Vaasa reached out and gripped the woman’s arm in the formal Icrurian gesture. Sachia wrapped her fingers around Vaasa’s forearm, squeezing tightly. One shake between them and the pirate dropped it, moving down a walkway lined with spools of silks that were stacked like towers upon the walls. It had been the smallest of gestures, but one that made Vaasa settle more comfortably into Sachia’s presence. It was a symbol of friendship, of trust.
Vaasa inspected the spools of fabric, pretending to be interested, the corner of her gaze always watching Lord Karev. He walked with the same commanding stature as he did everywhere, and with each step he took, Vaasa inched farther and farther away. Distracted by the fabrics, or so it seemed, she wound her way to the farthest rows of the shop. Every shade of purple was here, the stacks of it so high that Vaasa could no longer see Lord Karev and Sachia.
A body came up behind hers, and Vaasa spun. Reid stood there, a finger over his lips, indicating a need for silence that Vaasa already knew. He was dressed in warm breeches and a thick wool shirt, which was a little tight on his shoulders and arms. Though likely borrowed, it was a harrowing sight to view the Wolf of Mireh in simple Asteryan fashion.
But he was here. He was inches from her.
She paused and took a deep breath. Just one. A single moment where her composure cracked. She silently choked, hand going over her mouth to keep the sound of an impending sob from breaking out. Her chest rattled with the pressure of keeping everything in.
Lord Karev and Sachia’s voices drifted from the other side of the purple fabric stacks, still far enough away that she washidden. Reid reached for her, his fingers landing beneath her chin, his thumb sweeping over her cheekbone to wipe away a stray tear. “We’ll have none of that, Wild One,” he whispered.
“Heiress,” Lord Karev called, voice coming closer.
She turned the opposite way, blinking tears out of her eyes and gazing at the fabric as she walked without a hurry. When she looked back, Reid was gone.
“I’m over here,” she replied, her heart in her throat.
Lord Karev came around the corner just then, gray eyes surveying the fabric she touched.
“Come,” he said, gesturing to the back of the shop. She followed him through the winding maze of fabric until they reached a small door that had been left ajar. It led to a set of steep stairs that emptied out into a dim, lantern-lit basement room that Vaasa couldn’t entirely see.
Her heart thudded wildly in her chest. Where had Reid gone? This could just as easily be a trap. Sachia ducked into the stairwell, and Lord Karev gestured for Vaasa to follow. And for a moment, Vaasa paused. But Sachia had given her a handshake only an Icrurian would understand. And Reid had said they could trust her.
Vaasa bit the inside of her cheek. No matter what, she didn’t really have a choice.
Vaasa ducked through the door, eyes scanning her surroundings as she prepared to fight if necessary. Her winter boots thudded against the floor, and Vaasa looked up to find two men sitting at a table.
Koen… and Reid.
Everything centered on where Reid sat. His face didn’t break at her entrance, no ounce of familiarity on his sternly taut mouth, but his eyes softened ever so slightly as he perceived her. To the left, there was another door. It must have been what he’d snuck through.
She remembered everything: every minute detail of the way he had come to know her and she had come to know him. How his hands felt on her waist when they danced, how he cut straight through her inhibitions and fears. Even the memory of it was enough to ruin the careful hold she’d placed on her body all these weeks. He was a threat to her numbness, he always had been. Willpower was the only thing keeping Vaasa from running to him. That, and Lord Karev, who sternly gripped Vaasa’s elbow and guided her to the table.
Both Koen and Reid looked to where he touched her. Koen stood, cocking his head as if he was surprised to see her. “Vaasalisa,” he drawled.
“Heiress,” Lord Karev corrected harshly.
Vaasa chuckled as if the lord was just being protective. “Remi.” She kept her tone friendly yet businesslike, especially as Koen extended her an arm. She switched into Icrurian, careful with her words in case Lord Karev was lying about his familiarity with the language. “Forgive him.”
Koen held her gaze sternly. “I’ll do no such thing.”
Vaasa couldn’t help her smile.
“Heiress,” he said quickly, his Asteryan marked by an Icrurian accent that Vaasa was so deeply fond of.
Lord Karev pulled out a chair for Vaasa to sit in, and as she did, Koen said, “My guard.”
He was using cut words, simple, easy. A way to pretend that the language barrier was greater than it truly was. Koen was fully proficient in Asteryan. For a moment, she was in awe of his propensity to put on a convincing act.
“I remember,” Vaasa said in Icrurian, giving Reid a casual nod of acknowledgment before taking the seat Lord Karev had offered her. Her heart flew into her throat, and she translated the two words for Lord Karev, careful to keep his trust.
Amusement danced in the orange of Reid’s eyes. While a dangerous game, perhaps it was easier to find amusement than to find truth; a coping mechanism, a way to tolerate what this situation had become.
One slip, and they would all be tied to that pole in the city square.
“We’re here to discuss a line of trade, are we not?” Sachia asked in Icrurian, leaning back in her chair and glancing between everyone.
Once again, Vaasa translated. Lord Karev immediately jumped in, and Vaasa faithfully translated every word he said. She and Sachia did the majority of the language work, though Koen was smart in how he directed his questions to Vaasa instead, furthering Lord Karev’s assumption that bringing in an Icrurian translator, not to mention the heiress, got him further with the deal. Vaasa didn’t guide the conversation, playing well into the role of the meek heiress and letting Lord Karev think he was the brains behind the operation. He used her much like all the men in this city had; she was a tool, he the wielder.
