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“No,” Laverna said simply. “I didn’t. Meridium... Vesper and I went there once, looking for treasure. He probably told you. Once was enough.” She shuddered.
“Fine, you don’t like Meridium or undead children. That doesn’t mean you weren’t in on his plan,” I snapped.
“Morgan, look at me.” It was Draven. His green eyes were reassuring. “I knew as soon as Laverna arrived in Noctasia. I make it my business to know these things. But also, she wasn’t bothering to hide. Her story checks out. I’ve known Laverna for a long time.” He glanced at her. “She’s a lot of things, but not a murderer. I mean, not like...”
“Not like Vesper,” I finished. “She’ll kill for money though, like he did. Wasn’t that the entire point of her inn for assassins?”
“Roguesand assassins. Personally, I prefer theft,” Laverna said, studying her nails. They were lacquered in a bright bold red. “But I’m an honest woman now. I’m starting anew. This is my latest project.”
I looked around the shop, still disbelieving. “Is this all of your stolen merchandise? Arcane objects you and Vesper collected?”
For a moment, Laverna looked sheepish. “Some of them. I also make my own.” She crossed her arms over the black silk bodice of her gown and leaned back against the polished wood shop counter.
“That’s what I commissioned her for,” Dravne explained. “To make something for you that no one else could.” He glanced at Laverna. “Look, can I just take Morgan to the back?”
She nodded. “If the interrogation is through...”
Laverna smiled sweetly at me as I passed.
“Strange place to purchase a gift, Draven,” I hissed as I followed him through a doorway hung with ribbons and beads that clattered as we passed through.
I stopped talking abruptly as Draven led the way into a marvelous little room that resembled an armorer’s workshop.
The air was filled with the scent of cured leather. Sunlight filtered through small, dusty windows high up on one wall, casting beams that danced over the worn stone floor. Shelves lined the walls, displaying an array of tools, dyes, and rolls of supple leather in various textures and shades. Patterns and sketches covered one entire wall. Detailed designs for armor and various accessories. Pauldrons, helmets, cuirasses. Racks and hooks hung from the ceiling on one side of the room, displaying beautifully crafted leather pieces glistening in a multitude of dark colors and intricately engraved with cryptic sigils and runes.
In the center of the room lay a large workbench, where a pair of gauntlets sat.
They were molded from gleaming black leather. On the back of each hand was an embossed motif of dyed-red roses, each petal meticulously etched with lifelike precision. A pattern of gold and silver flames wound up the sleeves.
I froze. “Are those... for me?”
Draven was already picking them up and holding them out. “Yes. I had Laverna make them. She’s an excellent leather-worker, but she also has another rare gift. She’s a true arcanist, able to work sigils and spells into the armor she crafts.”
“So these have... special powers?” I said slowly, reaching out my hand and taking the beautiful objects. They were incredibly lovely gauntlets. My hands itched to put them on.
Draven nodded. “In a sense. I had her imbue these with aiming sigils.”
I smirked at him. “Smart.”
He grinned. “No offense. But maybe they’ll help a bit.”
“So we’re going to start practicing? Together? You and I? You aren’t afraid of being scorched?” I asked dubiously.
He tilted his head. “I think I already am.”
My heart skipped a beat.
I forced myself to look down at the gauntlets. “They’re lovely, Draven. Really. Thank you.”
Not as lovely as you, I wanted to say. But he beat me to the punch.
“They’re not nearly as beautiful as you are, Morgan Pendragon,” he said quietly.
His eyes roamed my face then passed onto my body, finding my curves and lingering on each one with a raw, possessive hunger.
A simmering heat sparked deep inside me. Answering the desire in his eyes like a fire fed flaming coals.
“Do you know how hard I've tried to stay away from you?” he whispered. “Do you know how long I’ve waited? And in the span of a few nights, all of it has been undone. I can't keep away. I know I don't deserve you. You've forgiven too much already. But I’m not strong enough to resist. You're my every weakness, my every temptation. And I...”
