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I didn’t give him an answer before I turned back to the building.I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.My stomach was a bag of knotted ropes.No,a bag of snakes twisting and writhing and tangling together.
“Ye deaf, girl?” he called. “I asked ye if yer headed in there.” His accent was thick, evidence of no education but the one Inkwell streets could provide. “Dumb bitch.”
I shot him a sharp glare and returned to the pep talk I was giving myself.It’s a surefire way to make money. It is not forever. It’s just until we get back on our feet. A few months at most.
Walking. I was walking, fists clenched. I took a deep breath and lifted my foot to the first step when something caught my attention. At the shop next door, among the rickety shelves that held items of questionable origin was a beacon of bright blue.
Lapis lazuli.
I didn’t feel myself turn before I was moving toward the chunk of stone. The color was so vivid it burned my eyes. There was no way thiswasn’tstolen. This didn’t come from Eserene.
I had never stolen from a shop before, only from people on the street. Stealing from a shop felt too…official. Like if I ventured into this side of thievery, then I was truly a thief, not just someone trying to survive. I felt like petty pickpocketing left room for my soul to be saved yet.
But this stone would bring in enough to rent a shitty little flat for at least a month, and probably enough to feed both of us for just as long. It was only the two of us now, anyway.
The sound of the parade rounded the corner, the streets opening up as the four Lords leaned off of their horses to hand out bread and honey apples, surrounded by guards. It was the perfect distraction. I strolled through the store leisurely, the shopkeeper paying me no mind as he hooked his head out of the storefront to see the oncoming spectacle.
They drew nearer, the sounds of cheers and hooves on dirt mingling with the screams erupting from the brothel next door. I stared at the stone on the shelf, silently praying to Onera for afuckingmiracle. I knew that once I did this, my soul was damned. But this was about survival. Something about it made me even more nervous than I had been walking toward the Painted Empress.
A quick glance over each shoulder and the stone was in my pocket. I had to leavenow.The rush began to set in, my heart pounding, blood whooshing–
“THIEF!” the wispy man with the nice boots screamed, running into the street and causing the procession to jolt to a stop. He stood in the middle of the road, directly in the path of the Royal Guards and Lords, a bony finger pointed at me. “This dumb bitch is athief.”
My body went hot and cold at the same time, the skin on the back of my neck tightening as my guts loosened.Every single personthat stood on the streetwas looking at me. The shopkeeper stalked toward me.
“Call the constable! Call the watchmen!” the wispy man cried, hysterical. The Royal Guard at the front of the parade turned his head back toward the Lord who rode in front. I couldn’t make out his face but Iprayedit wasn’t Calomyr. Good fucking Saints,pleasedon’t be Calomyr. I didn’t want him to see this. I was going to be thrown in prison. My mother was going to die hungry and unsheltered and alone. The crowd that lined the streets murmured quietly.
The wispy man continued screeching as the Lord at the head of the parade gave a slight nod to the guard. Both dismounted and the crowd went silent. I was sure I was about to vomit or shit myself or both as they walked toward me, my gaze pointed to the ground. I could see the thick leather boots of the guard.Please don’t be Calomyr.
“Hello,” a low voice said. I slowly looked up to see the Lord staring down at me. His jaw was squared, his face pleasantly rugged. He looked to be in his early fifties, the silver throughout his dark hair framing his face. His brown eyes were warm as they peered down at me. He gave another slight nod to his guard who then turned to the rest of the procession, giving a hand signal that caused them to start moving again. The guards began to call out to the crowd to scatter.
I saw the wispy man give a sneer before disappearing into the crowd.Bastard.
“Hello,”the lord repeated. I inhaled sharply.
“H-hello.” Saints dammit. Not only was I a thief but I was a stuttering little shit too.
“What do you have there?” My face was on fire. I slowly reached into the deep pocket of my cloak and closed my fist around the stone. I kept my eyes down as I pulled it out and opened my palm. “Beautiful,” the lord remarked. “Lapis lazuli, yes?”
I realized he was asking me a question. Of course he knew this was lapis lazuli, but I gave a hesitant nod.
“A hand, my Lord?” the guard asked from behind the helmet that covered his entire face. “Or should we take the whole arm?”
My heart stopped. I moved to shake my head but it seemed like the muscles in my neck were frozen stiff. “Always the hasty one,” the Lord said, clicking his tongue at the guard. He stared down at me, cocking his head as he searched my face. I was simply waiting for the command, waiting for my arm to be held away from my body then severed. If the bleeding didn’t kill me, an infection would. I couldn’t go to Solise for help again. “Why, pray tell, did you make the decision to steal this?”
His question caught me so off guard that for a few seconds my mouth just bobbed open and closed like a fish out of water. I still held the stone in my hand, which was now thoroughly slick with sweat. “I… I, uh…” What joke was he making at my already obvious expense? “I need to feed my family, and we need shelter,” I blurted. I had no control as my gaze moved back and forth between the stone in my hand and the Painted Empress looming beside us.
The Lord’s eyes widened, following my eyes. “No husband to provide for you?” His tone was thoughtful, without edge. Was that kindness? Condescension? I shook my head. “No father to provide for you?”
I shook my head again. “Not anymore,” I breathed, barely above a whisper.
His brows raised. “And your mother?”
“Grieving.”
“Ah, I see.” The Lord’s face had softened, though his guard stayed unnaturally straight, hand on the hilt of his sword. “How long ago?”
“Four weeks.” I blinked back tears from my eyes and swallowed the bile in my throat.
