She was back in the dress Evariste had ordered for her. At the moment, the cloth was shifting from a silvery blue to a pale redcolor.
Farriage was making notations in a log of some sort as she went through the sisters’ “store” inventory, but every few moments, she glanced at Angelique andsighed.
“What is it?” Angelique asked, hoping to distract herself as she awaited Neely’s return. (The smuggler was out speaking to the last few fellow smugglers she was on good terms with, to see if they knew who had brought the black mage over. If Neely was unable to find anything, it meant another dead end.Again.)
Farriage shook her head. “Nothing,” she saidinnocently.
“If it’s nothing, why do you keepsighing?”
Farriage slightly pursed her lips. “I was just thinking of lostrevenue.”
Angelique blinked. “I beg yourpardon?”
“It’s like this.” Farriage put her logbook aside, then scooted closer to Angelique. “I’m really impressed you survived Zancara, yeah? I haven’t heard of anyone who has made it out after putting even a big toe on Zancarian soil. But…” She sighedagain.
Angelique finally gave into the impulse and tapped her fingertips on her barrel. “But?”
The slant of Farriage’s eyebrows turned sorrowful. “I could have made so much money if you died, and I wrote a ballad about the ghost of the beautiful enchantress that now haunts the shores ofZancara.”
Angelique stared at Farriage. “What.”
Farriage impatiently pushed her hair out of her face. “Peoplelovea good drama, and Zancara’s neighbors like to be told thatsomeoneis making the country regret—even a little—itsisolation.”
“You wanted me to die…for the sake ofmoney.”
“I didn’twantyou to die.” Farriage made a scoffing noise at the back of her throat and rolled her eyes. “But it would have been better if you weren’t so thoughtful and decided to let Neely know you made it out. She’ll never let me release my song now that she knows you’re alive—which is a real shame since I finished the first verse. It describes your sorrowful walk on the beach, your ghostly skin sparkling with shed tears. Would you like to hearit?”
“No, thank you,” Angeliquesaid.
“Are you sure?” Farriage started rummaging through the drawers of her rickety desk. “I should actually take this time to ask about your motivation. I decided to portray you and your Lord Enchanter as star-crossed lovers, forever separated even though your hearts areentwined.”
Angelique almost fell off her barrel. “Youwhat?”
Farriage paused in her search. “I’m not wrong, amI?”
“You are mostdefinitelywrong!” Angelique shook her head to clear her mind of the mental disturbance it was experiencing at the suggestion. “On allcounts!”
“Really? So sorry, don’t know how I came to that conclusion—though it is a pity. Romance and drama, when combined, can really sell a ballad.” Farriage scratched her head. “So you two weren’t forcefully separated from eachother?”
Angelique leaned against her barrel for support. “Er, no, wewere.”
“Oh. Then you haven’t been searching for him for roughly fouryears?”
“Almost five,actually.”
Farriage’s eyebrows raised. “And you haven’t given upyet?”
“No,” Angelique said. “And I neverwill.”
“Mmhmm. And didn’t I hear you telling Neely that this Lord Enchanter of yours bought and ordered the dress you’rewearing?”
“Yes,” Angelique reluctantly admitted. “But I think you’re getting the wrongimpression.”
“But am Ireally?” Farriage asked. She flicked up three fingers. “Because the way I see it you two were torn apart, you’ve been searching for years, and yet you wear a token of his affection. That’s three for three. Are youcertainyou’re not star-crossedlovers?”
Angelique was unable to speak in herhorror.
She just—that is so incorrect—I am NOT…what?!
