The matron looked Gideon’s suit up and down. Her eyes narrowed, deepening her crow’s-feet.
The suit had belonged to his father. His parents had been known as the Sharpe Duet, once famous dressmakers employed by the witch queens. Their garments were rare, and therefore priceless—or so Rune had once explained to him.
This shop matron seemed to disagree. Or perhaps she didn’t recognize the designer. From the curl of her mouth, she thought Gideon’s suit belonged in a discount charity store.
“You must have the wrong shop. Only one young woman is trying on dresses right now.” Her tone said:And she’s well above your caliber.
Gideon flexed his knuckles, trying to rein in his annoyance.
“I’m certain I have the right shop.” He started around her.
She stepped to block him, holding out her cane like a scepter. For a woman so advanced in age, she moved unnaturally fast.
“Listen to me, boy. I don’t put up with thieves.”
A nerve in Gideon’s jaw ticked.A thief, am I?
“If you don’t leave at once, I’ll call for the brute standing outside the door.”
Gideon glanced across the shop. The fitting room curtains were all drawn back except one—where Rune was trying on dresses. Beyond the fitting area, there was bound to be a door. These buildings all had access to the back alleyways.
He considered retreating to the alley, finding the door, and using it to sneak back in. Except it was likely locked from the outside.
“Did you hear me, son?”
The bell over the door dinged again and a crowd of fashionable young women surged in, speaking in excited tones, their silk gloves fluttering as they spoke. The matron released Gideon from her hawklike gaze and drew her cane away, leaning on it once more.
She greeted the girls with a cheerful smile. She wouldn’t want to be seen arguing with Gideon. Riffraff was bad for business.
The girls flocked toward the dresses on display.
Out,she mouthed to Gideon.
He tipped his fedora to her, stepping backward, and headed for the front door until theclack clack clackof her cane retreated to the other side of the shop.
“What I can help you with, dearies?” he heard her say.
He opened the door. The bell dinged again. But instead of stepping out, with the matron’s attention fixed on her new customers, Gideon quickly doubled back. Heading straight for the only occupied fitting room. He touched the pistol in his jacket but didn’t draw it. It was too soon.
Don’t think, this time. Just shoot.
As soon as he did, he’d bolt for the back door and use it to escape into the alley. Grabbing the fitting room curtain, he threw it back.
Rune was inside, wearing a white lace dress. Gideon didn’t have time to pull his gun on her, because she already had one of her own.
It was aimed straight at his forehead.
ThirteenGIDEON
“GET IN,” SAID RUNE,her finger pressed to the trigger. “And keep your hands where I can see them.”
She’d been expecting him.
Rune wore a wedding dress with tapered lace sleeves that covered her arms from shoulder to wrist. The sight of it was a perfect reminder: she was meant to be someone else’s bride.
Gideon swallowed.
Not wanting to get shot—or seen by the shop matron—he did as Rune said. Stepping into the cramped fitting room, he pulled the curtain across the entrance behind him, shielding them from view. Then faced Rune with his hands in the air.
