The faintest movement beside him suggested that Jessamine had covered her mouth. If she started laughing, then he would do the same and everything would fall right apart. His woman needed to get herself together.
“Lord Martin from Castlery,” he replied, sighing as though it was the worst thing anyone had ever asked him. “By the gods, man. Pull yourself together and look for the name.”
The guard didn’t rise to Elric’s bait, but the exaggerated way he looked at the paperwork, running his finger down the list, was clearly to make it seem as though he was doing far more than he actually was.
“I’m sorry, I don’t see your name on the list—”
Jessamine leaned across him and gently tapped her finger against the paper. “Here. Lady Farah and Lord Martin.”
Elric didn’t have even a moment to bemoan that his name had beensecondon the list before the guard straightened and nodded. Really, what was Agnes thinking? “Yes, yes, of course. I see now. You may enter.”
They strode past as though they hadn’t a care in the world, even if Elric was already fuming. He wanted to let all of his shadows fly so that no one in this place would ever question them again. He wanted to showthem what angering a god looked like, and if they weren’t capable of seeing that, then he would prove to them—
Jessamine’s hand slid beneath his vest, close enough to his skin that he could feel the heat of her palm against him. “He was just doing his job, Martin.”
He hated that she had to call him anything other than his name. Few people knew what his name even was, so to have her calling him something else? He would lose his mind by the end of tonight.
“I dislike this,” he muttered, walking into the gardens with her. “This is all far too dangerous.”
“We’re rubbing elbows with so many people who know what happened,” she whispered. “I recognize many faces from the castle in here. This isn’t just about Fortuna anymore.”
“From the castle?” He racked his mind, trying to remember what he had seen in her memories. Nothing of note that he remembered, although perhaps there was more he hadn’t seen. Elric called upon the shards of her soul that he’d kept to peer into. What he found there surprised him. “I thought they all died?”
“All those I saw that day did, but it seems as though quite a few survived. I had assumed after my death that Leon killed the rest of them.”
They both stepped to the side as a couple walked past them, both the man and the woman dripping in so many jewels that Elric wondered how they could walk. The show of wealth was tacky, in his opinion, but that was what Fortuna liked and thus, that was what the Pleasure District liked.
Elric had seen the few people who tried to deviate from that style while he walked the streets. They were ridiculed, shunned for their difference. It was like someone walking into the town square naked. Fortuna’s control over this place seemed infinite.
Jessamine tugged him just off the garden path, toward a cluster of roses that were so pungent he felt a headache splinter at his temple.
“Listen to me,” she whispered. “I want to talk with some of them and see what they’re thinking about, knowing that the princess might be back.”
“Why would we do that?”
“I just have a feeling.”
He groaned. “Yourfeelingsget me in trouble. I thought we weren’t going to start anything tonight.”
“And here I was thinking you enjoyed me getting you in trouble.” She grabbed his hand and tugged him back onto the path.
“I do,” he growled. “I just prefer to be the one starting it. It’s entirely unfair that you told me to be on my best behavior tonight, while you don’t have to be.”
Two young men startled at his words, looking them over with clear suspicion. One of them had a bright mop of chestnut hair that he’d carefully curled into unnatural spirals, and the other was wearing the most gods-awful puke-colored doublet dotted with rubies.
Elric grinned at them. “She can’t keep her hands off me, but the moment I want to put my hands on her, suddenly I’m the problem. You know how it goes, boys.”
The two of them eased their suspicious stares, but Jessamine slapped him hard on the chest.
Worth it.
Together, they strode through the crowd andmingled. He hated being around any of these people, let alone having to talk to them. He was certain they were all part of the problem, and now that he knew many of these people had stood by when Jessamine was killed, he itched to return the favor.
She dragged him toward a knot of people standing around a bar made out of fine golden filigree, looking as though it were held together by sugar rather than sturdy metal.
“Darling Martin, would you get me a drink?” Jessamine batted her lashes at him.
“Ah, Farah. Anything for you, dearest.” He ground the words out through his teeth, and he wasn’t certain they were very believable.
