I huffed. “You’re welcome.”
Ignoring me, he stood to his full height, tilting his head back against the wall. “This place was supposed to be empty.”
“Where did the wild dragon come from?” I asked, disregarding his comment.
He leveled a sharp glare at me, all angles and hard lines that accused me of the highest treason with a single glance. The sunlight gave his blue eyes a translucent quality, almost like they were made of ice. “I don’t have to answer your questions. Now, get out.”
“Fine.” I marched around him. “But I will at least finish my work first.”
“No, you will not,” he snarled. His shoes pounded the stones as he followed me.
I didn’t stop. He might be a cousin of the queen’s, but he was also rude, and I didn’t think he deserved my manners. He wasn’t the one paying my wages anyway.
“What’s your name?” he demanded.
“I don’t have to answer your questions,” I retorted, grabbing my shovel.
“Look, if it’s money you need, I’ll pay you. Leave now and don’t speak of this to anyone.”
I froze. Was my desperation that apparent? My eyes remained fixed on the floor, where I’d tracked dragon blood on one of my shoes. A single footprint marched its way into the stall.
I glanced over my shoulder. His eyes were wild, not with pain. With fear. What sort of trouble had the duke’s son gotten into that he didn’t want anyone else to know about?
“Good luck keeping that a secret,” I said, nodding to his midsection. “Besides, are you planning to clean all that up yourself?” My eyes angled to the bloody footprint. The pool of blood in the courtyard was another matter.
“Here.” He flicked a coin onto the floor that bounced, rolled, then spun for an agonizingly long time, each sound slicing at my dignity. When the coin at last stopped moving, I took a breath then bent to retrieve it, hating the boy for the way he’d tossed it, as if to a beggar. Hating how badly I needed it. Hating the way my dirt-stained fingernails scratched the floor as I snatched it up.
I stared down at the large coin. It was a silver vestren, even more rare than a wild dragon. In a country with no royal children, he was as much a prince as he was a duke’s son. One vestren, the equivalent to twenty-five carands, was nothing to him. It was more than a week’s wages and enough to cancel our eviction notice. Maybe even enough to buy a ticket to today’s race.
No, I had to pay the fee at Evie’s school. We’d been notified that if our fine wasn’t paid before the start of term, Evie wouldn’t get to attend anymore. It was a stretch to even send her there, but it was worth it. Evie was going to be the one who got us out of bottomside. With her sunshine hair and angel’s face, she was our mother’s only hope for marrying well. My mother made it clear, repeatedly, that nobody would want the too-tall mousy bookworm with calloused hands and a propensity to speak her mind.
The sound of footsteps startled us both. I jumped, clutching the coin to my chest. Covington spun away, hand reaching instinctively toward his holster. He cursed when he found it empty.
A man in a crisp wool suit the color of ash peeked his head inside the stall. A peppered beard hugged his chin, and a tall hat, rather out of style, sat atop his head.
“Ah, there you are. I was wondering if anyone was here at all,” he said, voice buttery and cheerful, such a contrast from the bloody scene I’d just witnessed that it grated on me. “I’ve cometo leave a message for your father.” He clicked his heels together and clasped his hands at his waist. His movements reminded me of a windup soldier my brother used to have.
Covington tossed me a loaded glance, then he turned to the man and, in a harsh tone, said, “He’s not here.”
“Indeed not.” The man peered around, rocking forward and back on his heels. “And as you are clearly occupied, I will make my message brief. Then you may tend to your wound there.” He nodded at Covington.
“Fine. She was just leaving,” Covington said, waving me toward the door.
Tucking the coin in my skirt pocket, I hurried from the lair without a word.
“Pretentious godspawn,”I muttered, kicking over a tall mushroom that stood in my path. The air was thick with humidity and the whine of gnats as I stomped back up the hill through the woods. It was too early to go to Mim’s, and I needed a moment to revisit what had just happened. I flexed my fingers, recalling the way Azeron’s scales had felt, the way the lance had trembled in my hand each time it had struck the stones, the way I’d wanted to slap the duke’s son. The papers painted him as one of Treston’s most eligible bachelors, but his manners had proven he was no gentleman.
The gold-flecked dragon, according to Covington, was a wild dragon. I’d never seen awilddragon before. Few had. And I’d scared him off.
Bev’s warning about an omen rang in my ears and I stopped on the trail, sweat crawling down my back like a beetle. Then I waved a hand and kept walking. I didn’t believe in those cards.Cards had ruined our family, and I’d never alter my life based on a deck of cards.
The snap of a twig had me whirling, knife drawn.
The well-dressed nobleman from earlier approached from behind me. He picked his way along the trail with a wobbly gait, his long limbs reminiscent of the waving limbs of a leafless tree.
“Oh, there you are,” he said with the same blithe and chipper tone.
I raised my brows at him. Noblemen tended to scowl when looking at me, the way one might scrunch their face when they saw a rat.
