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A growl rumbled in my throat, but I forced it down. I hated when people tried to force charity. That was the last thing I needed.
"The cost." I leaned in.
He shook his head and held his hands up. "Fine. I normally charge 100 pounds."
It was expensive, but not as much as I'd feared. Pulling out the money, I placed it on the counter.
He ignored the coins and looked me up and down. "A suggestion for you, as you set out on your journey?"
"Huh?" I asked, already turning toward the door.
He stroked his beard for a moment before speaking. "You may wanna keep an open mind as you head to that place. My gut tells me things aren't going to turn out how you'd like."
First the charity and now useless advice? That drivel didn't even deserve a response. Shaking my head, I turned on my heel and walked out.
He was damn lucky this wasn't the Capital, and I wasn't on duty. I'd have him arrested and imprisoned for consorting with Forsaken before the sun was up.
But he was someone else's problem.
Tonight, I was hunting my own prey.
Chapter 29
Kaiya
The clock struck seven just as I stepped into the hall leading to the study. Jaiel was close on my heels, balancing a tray of goodies Mrs. Harlsted had left out for us.
"You have to at least try." Jaiel hissed behind me. "You saw how important this is to everyone here. Besides, Mirrim asked you, not me!"
I looked over my shoulder and glared at him. We'd planned to broach the subject during dinner, but Liam hadn't shown up, citing something about a shipment going awry. The Harlsteds couldn't attend either, so dinner had just been Jaiel, Mirrim, Gram, and I. It had been surprisingly lovely — except for my dreading the post-dinner meeting, that is.
"Can't you see how awkward it would be for me, of all people, to ask him to call off the betrothal?" I asked. "He developed feelings for me, confessed those feelings, then I broke his heart. Remember? Besides." I spun to face Jaiel, hands on my hips. "Didn't you promise to do anything for me earlier? Something about payment for lying to me for two years." I narrowed my eyes. "THIS is how you start to make it up to me."
His jaw dropped, and his blue eyes darkened with admiration. "Fine. I can talk to him. But what makes you think he'll listen to me now when he hasn't listened any of the dozen times I've brought this up before?" He gestured to the door behind me. "It could be different if you do it, though. There's a chance he may listen to you. Plus, you have leverage. Just tell him you won't help the dragons if he doesn't call it off."
I forced my hands to unclench at my sides. "I'm not going to do that. Unlike someone here, I don't like to lie. What if you talk to him and I agree to chime in … if the topic comes up?"
Which it wouldn't, because I was going to get out of there at the first opportunity — long before the betrothal came up.
"Fine," Jaiel grumbled, stepping past me to push open the door with his hip — Liam must have left it ajar. He held aloft a slim bottle of wine in one hand and the tray in the other. "I'll hold you to that," he whispered.
Nodding, I followed.
Liam's study was smaller than I'd expected. The opposite wall was lined with bookshelves packed to the brim with books, and to my right was a small fireplace burning brightly. Beside it was a wide wooden desk covered in neat stacks of papers and books. Liam saw us enter and stood from behind the desk, face set in that now-perpetual frown.
He looked between Jaiel and me, then gestured toward the room. "Good evening. Make yourselves comfortable."
Gods. Would I ever get over how cold and not-Eli he'd become? It was as though the happy-go-lucky boy had been killed that night in the cave and replaced with this — this emotionless machine.
I shuddered.
Jaiel had already moved to the desk and sat the tray and wine atop it with a thud. Without even pausing, he lifted the bottle of wine, read the label, and grinned before pouring himself a full glass of the deep red liquid.
I shook my head, then walked over to join them.
Jaiel turned to carry the handful of treats he'd gathered from the tray to a wide leather settee near the bookshelves. With a satisfied smirk, he slumped into the chair, sprawling as though this were his study instead.
Gods-be-damned. Why was he making this so much harder than it had to be? Was he trying to drag out the meeting? I just wanted to be free from this place and back on our way to find the relic.
