Page 60 of A Treason of Thorns

“I do love you, darling.” Esperanza sighs. I roll my eyes, but blood and mortar, it’s good to have her back.

“How did it go?” I ask, because I’ve got to get back to my tables and they’ll be carrying on all night if I let them.

Espie rolls her eyes. “Ugh. A solid month of managing absolutely impossible men. The two of you are a sight for sore eyes, I can tell you that much.”

“You didn’t hear anything promising about the deed, did you?” I try not to hope, but I can’t help it.

“No,” Esperanza answers. “I wish I had better news for you. I was hoping you’d found something out.”

“Nothing on my end.” I look down at the floor. “And we’re running out of time. Burleigh’s—not doing well.”

“We’re still trying,” Alfred reassures me. “We won’t stop looking until, one way or another, there’s no need to look anymore. It’s as frustrating for us as for you that none of this is going well. We’d hoped for better, Vi.”

I force a smile, though I sincerely doubt either of them has been frustrated enough to risk their lives over Burleigh’s plight as I have. “I know. And I think the world of you both for helping.”

“I’m not leaving again, not unless we find the deed,” Espie says. She reaches out to squeeze my hand and I swallow around a suspicious lump in my throat. “We’re in this with you till the end. Though my father—well, he told me to remind you that you’veonly got until the beginning of August, and that you’re not doing very well so far.”

“Wonderful,” I say. “As if I didn’t already know.”

“How can I possibly compensate for my appalling family?” Espie asks. “Here, let’s start with exorbitant tips.”

She takes an enormous wad of banknotes from her pocket and pushes it toward me, but I push it back with a roll of my eyes.

“An odd princess,” Alfred mutters. “Spending your allowance on tavern girls and treason, rather than gloves and fans.”

“Well,someone’sgot to spend their money on the poor tavern girls, Alfie, since you’re not doing it and it’s usually a gentleman’s prerogative,” Esperanza answers.

When I get back to the counter, Frey’s out front for the first time this evening. She’s had meetings with merchants and greengrocers and kitchen staff, and gives me a sharp look as I take a fresh tray of mugs from her.

“A word with you in my office, Violet Sterling.”

Reluctantly, I follow her down the Shilling’s narrow back corridor, to a tiny room where she keeps the books and does the ordering. Frey’s a fair employer, and more than good to her people, but I’ve been preoccupied of late and wonder if I’m about to get a dressing down.

Instead, she taps the back of one of my gloved hands.

“What are you hiding under there?”

“Nothing,” I lie again. “It’s cold for July, that’s all.”

“Then take your gloves off.”

Slowly, with a nervous fluttering in the pit of my stomach, I peel them off, willing the mortar in my blood to have faded. But ithasn’t. It’s still there, running under my skin. I’ve been deathly cold all evening, with an intolerable aching and heaviness in my limbs.

“May I?” Frey asks.

“Oh, go ahead,” I mutter. “Since you knew anyway.”

She pushes my sleeve up and takes in a quick breath at the sight of yet more mortar veining my arm to the elbow. “Violet, you didn’t.”

“Oh, I’m afraid I did. Burleigh’s been getting worse and worse, and Longhill Farm’s borne the brunt of it. I couldn’t just let my House ruin the Worthings like that. They’ve been in the county forever. But how did you know I’ve worked House magic for them?”

Frey sits down at her desk, which nearly fills the room, and gestures to the one other piece of furniture, a small wooden chair. “Your father started channeling mortar without the protection of a key before his arrest began, during the last year he had his freedom. He said he could shift more of Burleigh’s power that way, get more of the magic that had gone bad out of its system. I saw the signs on him often enough.”

It doesn’t surprise me. Burleigh was everything to Papa. He must have been wild over its distress, though he never let it show.

“Papa mentioned you in a letter he left me,” I say. “Said you were someone I could trust. Were you very well acquainted?”

Frey smiles. “That’s one way of putting it. We worked together, trying to find the deeds. I’d ask leading questions of patrons in their cups, whenever we had any nobility and their help passing through, and then give useful information to your father. I do the same now, for your friends out front.”