I had to find a secure place to stay. Somewhere safe where I could hole up while I figured out what to do next.
The Garden didn’t rent rooms. All patrons were kicked out by two am with very rare exceptions.
I had been here for at least a couple of hours. It was probably close to ten or eleven pm. The majority of the inns were in the Inn Quarter to the east, all the way across town and walled off in their own section. Kair Toren liked to keep track of their visitors. If they got unruly, the city could simply lock them up within the Inn Quarter and call it a day. The current arrangement had come about because a century ago, a rebel princess had snuck her army into the city by having them pose as merchants and random travelers and then tried to take the capital. The municipal regulations had relaxed a little since then, but not much.
The asshole who’d chased me was probably still out there. The area around the Garden wasn’t the safest part of the city and that was partially by design. The element of danger added to the thrill. If someone got uppity and tried to rob some of the wealthier patrons, the Garden would stomp on their neck fast, but I was a nobody. An anonymous woman alone on the street in the middle of the night was fair game.
I really didn’t like the look on that man’s face.
At least I had clothes and money now. I would have to chance it. I had no choice. I needed to get dressed, ask Klemena where the closest inn was, and then wait by the exit until a larger group of patrons left, so I could tag along. If I found an inn, I would have to try to bribe the staff. Maybe if I parted with enough money, they would let me in . . .
A knock echoed through the door.
I sank deeper into the water. “Enter.”
A tall woman walked into my room. Klemena followed three steps behind her, a deferential look on her face.
The woman examined me. She wore a stunning gown of deep Prussian blue accented with gold embroidery, with a slim bodice and a voluminous skirt. Her long dark blond hair was gathered into a single braid that began on her right temple, curved over the top of her head, then twisted to the back on the left, forming an almost Fibonacci spiral at her nape. It framed her face like a crown, secured in place with gold flowering-vine ornaments topped with blue gemstone flowers. I had no idea how to even start this hairdo.
Her features were striking rather than beautiful: dark blue eyes under strong eyebrows, narrow nose, and firm, full lips, and her expression frosted them over, adding just the right touch of authority and self-assurance. She was so composed, she looked almost regal. Everything about her, the way she walked in, the way she stood, the way she wore that amazing gown communicated that not only did shenotsuffer fools gladly, she suffered them not at all.
Galiene of Sosna. The most desired woman in Kair Toren. She couldn’t have been anyone else. She was everything I had imagined. Wow.
The Garden was run by two women. The first, Hade, was the senior proprietor. She would be in her seventies by now, and she’d been gripping the reins of the Garden for forty years. Hade was well connected and still formidable despite her age. She knew where the literal bodies were buried, and a lot of powerful people across the entire realm would breathe easier once she died.
Galiene was Hade’s chosen successor. She had taken over the daily management of the Garden, with Hade remaining in the background. She was one of my favorite supporting characters in the books. Galiene wasn’t just striking, she was smart.
Not everyone in the Garden sold their bodies. Galiene didn’t take clients, and it was a deliberate strategic choice, one which she and Hade had settled on years ago. She didn’t shmooze or try to ingratiate herself. She didn’t make small talk, and she never revealed anything about her life. Galiene appeared when a problem presented itself, resolved it with her usual poise, and moved on. The staff both feared and revered her, and she was truly the queen of her domain.
All of that made her irresistible to the rich and powerful, especially men. She was off-limits and therefore captivating. The authority she wielded just added to her allure. They lined up for a chance to conquer her, both to have her and to own the bragging rights. She listened to their advances with a small smile, while they emptied their purses trying to impress her, and she privately laughed all the way to the Garden’s underground vault.
It would all end in blood and fire. That subplot was the first time in my life I had screamed at a book. She was this cool, powerful woman who wanted nothing to do with the swamp that was the political underbelly of Kair Toren, and the narrative had crushed her in the worst, most painful way possible. Galiene was one of the reasons I needed the third book to come out. I wanted my vengeance, damn it.
Galiene studied me for a long moment.
“You don’t have anywhere to go, do you?” She had a rich, resonant voice.
There was no point in lying. “No.”
“You can stay within the Garden tonight. One night only. No charge.”
What?
“There is always a charge.” I should have phrased that better.
“Not this time. It’s not for your sake. I don’t know you.”
“Then why?”
“You thanked the servant.”
Damn it. Servants weren’t usually thanked, especially not in places like the Garden. It must’ve seemed so odd to Klemena she had reported it. The twenty-first-century social norms had tripped me up. I always thanked my waiter. If I had my hair done, my nails, or my eyebrows, I thanked whichever professional had done it. It was an automatic, ingrained response. I did it without thinking. I couldn’t do anything without thinking from now on because it would get me killed again.
But thanking Klemena didn’t seem significant enough to prompt this sudden charity. Where was Galiene going with this?
“I don’t understand,” I said.
Galiene sighed. “Years ago, I also came to the Garden late at night, without shoes and with only a handful of coins to my name. I, too, asked for a bath and a meal. And I thanked the servant who brought my dinner to me and helped me wash my hair.”
