“How did you…?” There were no identifying marks or charms on the card. It simply saidGabriel Noblein an embossed but plain script. But then magic and secrets went hand in hand in the gilded world. They were the currency that powered everything.
“What is your name?” he asked, instead of answering.
His eyes held a vast well of impatience, but the hint of something else gave me the slightest bit of hope.Curiosity.
I cleared my throat, not wanting to give my name. The dried spit on my hem and scrubbed tomato splotches on my back and knees were reminders of what happened when I did.
“Marietta Winters.”
His eyes narrowed. “And what, Lady Second Winters, are you doing inside of my study at this hour?”
I stilled at his knowledge of my numbering in the family—few had cared to know before this past week. “I need help.”
“Don’t we all.” He negligently began coiling the spell wire again, his eyes sharp. “Why come to me?”
“I was told you helped those in need.”
“How interesting.”
My throat constricted. “Was Seventh—was Frostwood—mistaken? Have I wasted precious time in coming to you?” Dashed, just like that? I’d been foolish to hope—hope had long since abandoned me.
Yet I raised my head higher, determination outstripping self-preservation. A stubborn mouse on a desperate quest. And like a bird of prey, he watched me. He hadn’tstoppedhis predatory assessment since opening the door. It was unnerving in more ways than one, and if I weren’t so mulish, I might have succumbed to the sharpness there.
His head tipped. “Surely ‘Seventh’ explained how I work. I rarely accept charity cases from members of the gilded.” His tone was mild, almost curiously still, even with the thread of arrogance running beneath.
I grasped the edges of my dignity. “He said your services cost ten thousand gold.”
“They do.”
“Or…” Here was where the danger lay. “Or three favors.”
He kept coiling the wire. “And did he explain what type of favors I might ask?”
“No,” I whispered.
A dark grin flashed across his face. “Good on Frostwood.”
The vaguely terrified expression worn by the seventh ranked member of the Frostwood family as he’d talked about Gabriel Noble flashed in memory.The man makes fae kings tremble, Marietta, be careful. If there had been another way…
The man dominated the space across from me, arrogant and cold. If there was another way…but there wasn’t. I was penniless. Hunted. Ostracized. It said something that the Frostwoods’ seventh in line had been the only distant relation to offer any aid—and a simple card, at that.
Gabriel Noble was going to make me beg. He was going to break my remaining pride. It was clear in his icy eyes.
But Frostwood had told me in no uncertain terms that if there was one person who could help, it was Noble. I had no choice. Not if I was going to save Kennen.
“My brother was taken by the night watch three nights ago.” I’d been awake and running for help ever since. Fear and abject obstinacy were the only things keeping me upright. “They are charging him with murder. A—” My breath hitched. “A constable said they mean to hang him.”
“The Vein Ripper.”
My head shot up. “He is not!”
“That is what they mean to hang him for, is it not?”
The faded red splat of a tomato stain glowed on the spell-worn fabric above my kneecap. I squeezed my eyes shut.
“News travels fast in my circles.” His voice was silk, velvet, and steel. “And even if it didn’t, it’s hardly a difficult thing to determine between your appearance, the timing, and your last name.”
“Then…then you know—”
