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“I’ll disguise myself as his squire.”
“That might get you past the gate, but you’ll never get past his scrutiny,” Kya reminded.
“Then I’ll pretend to be a servant.”
“I don’t like the idea of you being in Lord Xuidd’s fortress. Too hard to get you out if something goes awry.” Qynn spoke as if she were actually considering it.
“Does he ever leave?” I asked. Surely a visitor to our city did more than just languish inside the fortress.
“Actually, he does,” Qynn remarked. “Every morning, soon as the sun rises, he takes a walk down to terrace district and stops at a shop for breakfast. Apparently, they are the only place that makes his coffee properly.”
“A shop is perfect,” I exclaimed. “They’re always hiring.”
“For the dirtiest jobs. How’s that supposed to get you close to the duke?” Palla argued.
I loved these kinds of planning sessions where we all got to say our piece.
Qynn waved a hand. “Asharee is too pretty and well-spoken for slop work. They would probably make her a server to the public.” A pensive expression dropped over her. “Let me think upon this.”
By the afternoon of the following day, I’d begun working at the coffee shop that also served pastries to the snooty residents of the upper levels. I didn’t see the duke the first morning I ran around filling cups and offering flaky pastries. Truly delicious. I’d stolen a few bites when no one watched.
Don’t judge. Food had been an issue a good portion of my life. Having plenty now didn’t mean I could toss out perfectly fine food without having a taste.
Almost twelve, and I remained petite for my age. Undernourishment kept me small, and only served to make my eyes look large in my face. I’d not yet reached the age where I would be expected to veil in front of strangers. All unmarried women of a certain age kept their faces hidden. The men only wore their coverings when they travelled outside towns and cities. Except for the soldiers. They always went about in concealing veils.
In good news, the Duke didn’t appear to care about the sex of his squires. He had four male, two female. It meant no hair cutting required, which I’ll admit eased my vanity.
The next day, I pretended surprise when the cook in the kitchen barked at me. “You, girl. You’ll be taking a tray in to the private room with the circle on the door.” How propitious for me that the usual boy had stayed home today with a stomach malady—also known as a basket bribe.
I ran around filling a bowl with sugar, another with goat cream, while Chef plated a pastry and poured a full pot of fresh coffee from her stove. Everything was placed on a large tray.
The owner of the shop, a corpulent woman who was terse but kind, offered a soft warning. “Don’t look him in the eye. In and out as quick as you can. If he catches you, it won’t take long, and he rewards generously.”
Rather than vomit or do something to the woman who admitted to being complicit, I nodded and took the tray. I’d prepared for this role. My shift was loose, my hair brushed and unbound, my eyes demurely downcast when I entered the private room to serve the Duke his coffee.
He barely spoke to me, but I felt the crawl of his gaze as I served him. First his saucer then the cup. A pour of hot coffee. No sleight of hand needed because I’d already followed Qynn’s instruction.
While we readied the tray, I’d poured the relaxant in the coffee. Smeared his dry morning biscuit with a tongue loosener. I’d spent the previous day memorizing the questions I should ask. Once he answered all of them, then I’d resort to the last potion that would make him susceptible to suggestion so I could provide a story of how we’d spent our time.
It worked exactly as planned.
I pretended to be shy and reluctant when the Duke asked me to stay. He offered me coffee. I declined, but I did suck on a sugar cube. The man before me had a creepy stare that never budged as he took that first sip of coffee.
He asked, “How old are you?”
“Ten.” I shaved off a few years.
He licked his lips. “Would you like to earn some coin?”
My stomach tightened as I nodded.
The Duke smiled. “Excellent.” He took a bite of his soaked biscuit. Then waved it at me. “Undress. Slowly.”
I ducked my head and began with my apron, pretending to fumble with the knot as he finished the dry cookies. Once I removed the cloth around my waist, I tugged at my gown, lifting it to show my bare lower legs then the hem of my under chemise. By the time I’d dropped my outer shift on the floor, the Duke had finished his coffee and smacked his lips.
He beckoned me as he leaned back. “Come here, girl.”
Rather than comply, I said, “How do you feel?”
