Page 95 of A Thief Among Fae

“Don’t worry about it.” He waves his hand. “Meet me in the kitchen tonight, and I’ll convince the others. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll need a nap if I’m burning the midnight oil.”

“Of course.” I smile as he cuts himself a slice of the tart.

He takes a bite and closes his eyes, savoring it. “It’s delicious, Cyn. Even if it had a touch of gas.” Then he winks as he walks away.

Chapter 28

Iput more care than usual into my appearance tonight, rubbing a hint of floral perfume on my wrists and brushing my hair until it’s silky soft. I braid it, but frame my face with wispy strands. Then I secure the end with a tie and a small pearl-studded comb I raided from a tomb. Until now, I’ve been too wary of pickpockets to wear it. The irony.

There are cosmetics in the armoire. I’ve never seen Min wear them, so I assume they were meant for me. The beeswax lip balm is tinted rose red and gives me a flush of color that reminds me of the nobles in Mythos. So does the rouge. The elderberry charcoal liner darkens my light lashes.

The woman staring at me in the mirror doesn’t look like me. I touch my face as if I need to convince myself that my reflection is real.

I dress in a long indigo velvet skirt, its seams lined with golden thread. Then I put on a matching velvet corset top with off-shoulder bell sleeves. The top of the corset dips immodestly low, squeezing my breasts together. It hugs my waist, the pressure tight enough to be stimulating. My breath catches as I trace the golden laces.

Back home, our clothes were sewn to cover our bodies from the elements. I’ve never worn anything like this before, and it’s too lovely to belong on me.

What will the thieves think? What if I look like a peasant costumed as a noble?

“It doesn’t matter what they think,” I whisper to myself. I should enjoy this lavish lifestyle while it lasts. Maybe with the treasure from Olin’s tomb, I could commission a dress like this. And if I wore it often enough, one day I’d feel at home in it. At least, I hope so.

Looking in the mirror, I wonder what Desmond would think if he saw me. Would his breath catch? Would he swallow hard? In the Hollowlands’ courts, he’s surely met fae as beautiful as the dawn. I can’t compete with that.

Banishing the thought, I head to the kitchen and find Nikolai already waiting. “Why are we here?” I ask, looking around. No one else is here.

“Perhaps you should bring your tart de bry,” he says. Then he opens a wide lower cabinet, revealing a secret tunnel. Light spills out, and laughter echoes through the passage. He winks at me and crawls through.

Of course thieves would have a secret tunnel. I grab my tart de bry from the ice box and follow, anticipation drumming through me.

“Nikolai!” Finnian’s shout echoes. “You’re late.”

“Are you really so surprised?” Brandur asks.

At the tunnel’s end, I pause to gawk.

Flickering candles on wagon wheel chandeliers cast golden swaths of light, just enough to leave the room darkened and cozy. Shields and crossed swords gleam on the walls. Kegs are stacked in the corner, an extravagant leather sofa beside them. As if that wasn’t enough ostentatiousness, fur rugs stretch across the floor, one a taxidermied bear with the head still attached. I’d bet my pearl comb that they stole it.

It’s the paragon of decadent luxury, fit for a nobleman’s manor. My father would ramble in awe at the sight of it all.

Then I emerge from the tunnel, and everyone falls silent.

Maeve and Min are seated at a high table, each nursing a mug, and Finnian and Brandur stand before a dart board. Finnian pinches a dart, but he stares at me as if he’s forgotten about it.

“What is she doing here?” Brandur asks, glaring at Nikolai.

Nikolai raises his hands, placating. “Each of us is allowed one guest a year. I’ve chosen Cyn as mine.”

Brandur grunts. “You would waste your pick on the woman who almost spoiled our heist?”

“If I recall, she’s the reason you have the map,” Nikolai argues, but his voice is level and patient.

Enough of this. “I didn’t mean to get us caught. And I brought an apology tart.” I levitate it to the table where Maeve and Min sit.

Maeve snatches a slice, bites into it, and moans. “Mm’not mad at you, Cyn. And this is so good that I’d forgive you for anything.”

“She does not belong in midnight blue,” Brandur argues. “She has not taken the pledge, and why Finnian let her come on the heist is beyond me.”

“Then don’t take it out on her,” Finnian says. He throws the dart at the board. “Take it out on me, because I’ve won again.” He smirks.