But even as Enne lowered her cards, he continued to lean closer. Enne might not have minded if she wasn’t so on edge. He was attractive, and he had a smile full of innocent intentions, but Enne knew better than to believe that about an Iron.
They played for a few rounds. Each time Enne reached for a new card, she held her breath, preparing for a Shadow Card’s vision to take over. Every so often, she looked across the table, expecting to see Levi, sickly and draining of life.
“This party is mostly Irons,” the dealer told her. “How do you know Pup?”
“We’re friends,” she mumbled. Friends who’d barely spoken in weeks.
“They’re not close,” Grace said, then nudged Enne sharply in the ribs, scooting her another inch closer to the dealer. Enne shot her a stormy look.
“Didn’t you come back with him?” The dealer furrowed his eyebrows. “I remember, when he came back from the bridge, you were behind him.”
Enne was surprised anyone had noticed them at all, amid the hollers and cheers for Levi.
“I was there,” she told him drily, turning away from him and attempting to focus, once more, on the game. This was supposed to be a party, but all Enne felt was irritated. “I was there for all of it.”
“At the bridge?”
Enne should’ve been more careful, but she couldn’t help herself. “For the bridge. For the meeting at the Catacombs. For the death of Semper.” As she spoke, the image of Semper behind her vanished, like a bullet tearing through smoke.
Enne didn’t know much about the game, but she had a pair of queens, and she was certain that counted for something. “Fifth round is the first reveal, right?” She threw the pair down on the table, then scooted the extra inch closer to the dealer, close enough that their legs touched.
But the dealer was no longer paying attention. He stared at the cards, or maybe at the table—anywhere but at her.
He swallowed uncomfortably. “I...” His eyes flickered to something over her shoulder, and he quickly stood up, stumbling over a chair leg. Enne supposed others might find his clumsiness charming, but his lopsided smile seemed rehearsed, the more she saw it.
“I’ll take over this game, Tommy.”
A drink was thrust into the dealer’s hands, which he nervously accepted before hurrying off.
Levi slid into his place and collected the cards. “Why don’t we start over?” he asked, but the players, too, were leaving the table.
“Look who finally graced us with his presence,” Grace said flatly.
Levi ignored her and shuffled the cards, cascading them nimbly between his fingers. Enne stared at the bit of silver peeking out of his breast pocket. She’d been given a similar card by Sedric Torren, but she’d left hers behind in the House of Shadows. It only brought bad memories, and she didn’t want to wear her pain like a trophy. She wondered if that’s how Levi looked back on the night that haunted her—just another victory, just another story.
Levi dealt out hands for only him and her. Grace cleared her throat. “What about me?” she asked.
“I’d like to talk to Enne,” he said. He had a seriousness to his voice that told her he’d come to talk about business. That was what they were after all—business partners. Nothing more.
Enne nodded for Grace to leave, and then she and Levi were alone.
“I’m going to send messengers to the other lords,” he told her. “We need to meet again. Tomorrow night. And if they’re true to their word, they’ll open up twenty percent to your market.”
“You shouldn’t have put my plan on the line like that,” Enne snapped at him. “You had no right.”
“They were going to decline it. It’s thanks to me they now have to give it a chance.”
“And what would you have done today if I hadn’t been there? I have nothing to thank you for.”
Levi pursed his lips. This would’ve been the perfect opportunity to actually thank her, but he seemed intent on ignoring it. “Are you prepared? Because I already made a list of businesses to ask to invest.”
“That’s great. You can give the list to Grace. She’ll help me take care of it.”
Maybe she was even more bitter than she’d thought. Enne sifted through her cards so she could look at something other than him wincing.
“I want to help you, Enne.” He whispered her name—it wasn’t an apology, but there was fear in his voice.
“Do you?” she asked. “Because I never hear from you. You’ve been keeping secrets. How did you get the whiteboots to evacuate Revolution Bridge? Why aren’t there any whiteboots in Olde Town?”
