I grabbed my satchel from the second shelf.The worn brown canvas was at odds with my ensemble, but it would have to do.
“Is Captain Greenwood expecting you to rejoin the Guard?”I asked, pulling my satchel over my head.
“I’m not going to,” Maddox said fiercely.“It’smylife.I’d like to decide what to do with it.”
“And what would that be?”I ducked past him, rounding the counter.
“I-I don’t know yet.I just need some time to think.Father hasn’t said anything outright, but he’s eating more dessert than usual this week!”
I furrowed my brow.“What does that have to do with anything?”
“When the royal family’s safety depends on his physique?Ha!He’s holding in a lecture by eating more at meals.But I won’t be there when he breaks,” Maddox said triumphantly.
“Because you’ll be here,” I said flatly.That explained all the holes in his clothing and the sudden interest in a new wardrobe.“Listen, I have an appointment to get to.Why don’t you go bother Narcissa instead?”
Maddox followed me to the door.“She’s always with the crown prince!Yesterday I caught them in the parlor”—he abruptly lowered his voice—“kissing.”
“I’m sure they do that a lot.”
“It’s unsightly and I wish they would stop.As if tripping over their litter of cats all day isn’t bad enough,” Maddox grumbled.“And Cissa wants me to keepthreeof them.I don’t know the first thing about kitten-rearing!”
“I’m going now,” I said at the threshold.“Keep watch here if you like.”
The bell chimed as I shut the door.Hopefully Mrs.Lewis wouldn’t come down and demand who he was.
2
Blanche de Clare waslocated in upper Delibera, the tops of its glass domes glistening like a jewel amongst the ordinary tiled roofs of the neighboring establishments.My jaw had dropped when I first laid eyes on its exterior, its grandiosity rivaling the royal palace.
The interior was even more impressive, if that was possible.
I could see the atrium from my vantage point now on the topmost floor of the department store, five levels of gilded balustrades sectioning off each story.The domed glass ceiling let in a flood of natural light, illuminating the crystal display cases within which many fine wares were laid out: crystal bottles of perfume, delicate lacey gloves, and intricately painted fans.The lobby was covered in a lush seafoam green carpet, leading to a sweeping marble staircase that led up, up, and up.
The proprietor of this massive department store was Mr.Walter de Clare, a self-made businessman with no noble bloodline, as far as I knew.I presumed he would appreciate a witch pulling herself up by her bootstraps and would be eager to speak with me about business.
“Mr.de Clare will not see you.”
