27
Edmund and I left inhalf an hour.Fortunately, the village was quiet after a night of festivities, so there were no nosey witches around to see us off.
I led us through an alternate passageway, one that didn’t lead up to Miriam’s shop but instead to a back alley in Delibera’s witch market.
When we emerged, it was night time, the air crisp and the dark streets lit with gas lamps.I had thought it was mid-morning, but it seemed that time in the village still didn’t correlate with time aboveground.Edmund called a hired carriage to take us back to the fashionable side of town where Blanche de Clare lay.
“I was thinking we stop by the palace first thing in the morning,” I said.“To let the crown prince know the tour has concluded early.”
“Of course,” Edmund said pleasantly, clasping his hands on his lap.“That is of utmost importance.”
He would turn in his report then, too.My eyes flicked to the briefcase next to his feet, wondering what he had written.He hadn’t volunteered to show me, and I wasn’t sure if it would be proper to ask to see it.But after Prilla Lewis’s words—that Edmund couldn’tpossiblyhave enjoyed his stay and written a positive report—I was a little bit more than curious to see how he had painted Witch Village.Did his report disparage the village and everyone in it?
If it did, I imagined he wouldn’t be sitting across from me and smiling.
Edmund chatted pleasantly during the ride.Somehow I found it in me to relax against the upholstered seats and inhale the fresh evening air mingled with the scent of leather and horses, listening to him describe the hotel we were to stay at called The Conch.
It wasn’t long before Edmund’s descriptions of glass domed roofs and gilded pillars manifested into reality.The carriage pulled up outside The Conch, a formidable building five stories tall with a seemingly infinite amount of windows, all lit up with soft golden light.Seashell decals bordered the arches, resembling a fantastical underwater palace.
“This almost rivals Blanche de Clare,” I said in wonderment, stepping out onto the cobblestone.Edmund followed and straightened his coat, looking more like himself surrounded by buildings as grand and handsome as he was.
“My father has a particular taste in architecture,” Edmund said.“He prefers the oceanic themes.”
“Mr.de Clare owns this place too?”I said, astonished.
“As well as a handful of other hotels in Coriva and Alevine,” Edmund said.His brows pinched, and he suddenly looked rather bitter, but the expression disappeared as quickly as it came.
We passed through the gate and entered the courtyard, where a white marble fountain of a mermaid, inlaid with mother-of-pearl, glistened delicately like an underwater treasure.The grandeur of it all took my breath away.
I gazed up at the night sky.The stars were faint compared to the brilliance of this hotel on the ground.But, I thought grimly, at least the sky here isn’t only one hundred feet high.
“Do you like it?”Edmund asked, bringing me out of my reverie.
“It’s grand,” I said.And far outside of my pay range, I was sure.With some embarrassment, I realized that I didn’t have any money on my person.Crown Prince Bennett had yet to pay me, so my coin purse was painfully light in my pocket.Even if it were full, I was sure a night in this hotel would clear it out entirely.
We entered the lobby, the guests scattered around us dressed to the heights of fashion.The vaulted ceiling was reminiscent of Blanche de Clare, as was the golden chandelier, which sparkled with clear and aquamarine crystals.
Behind an elevated counter, a receptionist in a seafoam waistcoat greeted us.
“My private suite, if you please,” Edmund said, flashing his card at the man.“The lady will be joining me.”
My eyebrows shot up.
