CHAPTER 48

CHAPTER 48

AUREN

“You were right,” I sayacross the long table. “The Burnt Cat really is the best.”

Judd beams at me, lifting his tankard up in a toast. “Told you so. Best wine in Orea.”

Nodding, I help myself to another drink, only to realize it’s empty. I frown at the bottom of my wood cup, as if the sweating grooves inside will somehow produce more deliciousness. I’m vastly disappointed when it doesn’t.

“I ran out.”

“Would you like to have more?” Slade asks, though how I hear him inside such a noisy tavern, I’m not sure.

“Yes, please.”

Judd led the way straight here, and the tavern owner quickly brought us into this private seating area in the back. The lighting is low, a fresh breeze coming in from the window behind me, and our round table is blocked by stacks of wine barrels that smell amazing.

I have to admit, the wine has helped my mood.

Slade lifts his hand, and the tavern owner comes bustling over. He’s a short and stout man named Barut, with thinning hair and even thinner lips. Barut wipes his hands on his muddied apron. “What can I do for you, Sire?”

“Can you bring another pitcher of wine for the table? And we’ll have more bread and cheese as well, Barut.”

“Of course!” he says with a clap, beaming over at me with a crooked smile, his two front teeth tilted over each other like crossed arms. “How is everything else?”

“Perfect as always,” Judd calls over.

The man’s cheeks go ruddy with a bashful blush. “So glad to hear it, Sir Judd.”

When he leaves and it’s just the five of us again, I glower into my cup. I kept my chin up while we were outside on the street, but this widespread rumor of me stealing Midas’s magic is both ironic and infuriating. Needless to say, my mood has plunged. Everyone else is trying to keep the atmosphere positive still, but I can tell that the rumors are bothering them too. Digby, however, is not amused in the slightest. Every time he heard someone say something about me outside, I thought he was going to leap off his horse. I think only his sore ribs held him back.

“Are you alright?” Slade asks, his arm braced on the back of my chair.

I nod. “I’m fine.” When I realize how surly that sounded, I lift my gaze to him. “Thank you for taking me to the clothing shop—you didn’t have to buy me all of that, by the way.”

“You need clothes,” he says with a shrug. “Plus, it’s purely selfish.”

“How so?”

He leans in close. “I get to rip every single piece off you. It’s like getting to decide on the wrapping paper for my own gift.”

A blush rises to my cheeks, and I check around the table, but Judd and Lu are talking, and Digby is busy glowering into his cup. “You sure that’s a good idea?” I challenge? “I might steal your magic.”

Slade gives me a pointed look. “You need to ignore them.”

“That’s pretty hard to do when I wasn’t prepared.”

He drags a hand down his face. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I should’ve told you what some of the rumors were saying. I just wanted you to have a good day here.”

“I know,” I say, blowing out a breath. “I just hate that he’s somehow made it so that my magic still isn’t mine.”

Slade’s mouth tightens. “If people truly want to think that, then they’re fools.”

Just then, Barut comes back over, setting a tray of everything down in front of us. “There you are, Majesty. Enjoy.”

Slade gives Barut a nod of thanks and then pours me more wine. I hum at my first sip.

Bright side, wine can’t gossip.

I take a bite of the creamy cheese too, chewing on my thoughts as much as the food before I ask, “Doesn’t it bother you? That people think I’m seducing you for your magic?”

“I don’t give a fuck what other people think.”

“That’s such a man thing to say,” I reply with a slight roll of my eyes as I take another bite. “Women in this world have to be more careful. Perceived reputations can be life or death.”

“That’s true,” he concedes, watching as I take another drink. “Reputations can also mean power.”

“Says the king.”

He leans in close, lips almost brushing my ear. “Says the king to the fae female who’s conquered him completely.”

I lick my wine-stained lips. “I’ve conquered no one.”

“Goldfinch, you could conquer the entire world with a single look, if only you’d open your eyes.”

“That’s dangerous advice, considering what happened in Ranhold.”

“That’s all part of the fun, don’t you think?”

I level him with a look. “I think I’m starting to learn that you’re just as unhinged as some of the Orean rumors have claimed.”

His devilish smirk only grows. “Oh, love, I’m worse.”

The racing organ in my chest does a flip when he calls me love. “You’re better than you give yourself credit for. You’re good. To me, to your Wrath, to your people.”

“If you knew what I was thinking right now, the last thing you’d call me is good.”

I bury my blush in my cup as I take another long gulp. The heat of his words and the look in his eye have buoyed my mood significantly. He’s at least tied with the wine.

“So, Gildy, where do you want to go next?”

My head jerks forward at Lu’s question. “Oh, umm...” Everyone looks at me expectantly. “I’m not sure.”

“We could take her past the watermill,” Judd supplies. “Or maybe the perfume shop. Lots of ladies like to go there. Or the hattery.”

Lu rolls her eyes. “Does she look like she wants a frilly hat?”

“We could go to the market at the docks,” Judd offers instead. “But there will be lots of people down there.”

I cast a questioning glance at Slade as I finish off the last of my cheese and a bite of bread. “Too many people?”

“We’re all with you,” he tells me. “Besides, like you said, you’re not a thief, so you aren’t going to hide like one. Let them see that these rumors are wrong.”

With a nod, I look to Digby. “You up for it, Dig?”

“I go with you,” he says simply as he drains his cup.

“Alright then. Let’s do it.”

Slade stands up and offers his hand to me, which I take after one last sip of wine.

As we make our way out of the tavern through a back door, I thank him for lunch. “The food here is much better than in Ranhold.”

Lu makes a noise of disgust behind me. “They ought to be ashamed of themselves, drenching everything in syrup. Salt is far better than sugar.”

“Ah, so that’s why you’re not sweet. Even your tastebuds reject it,” Judd says as we all spill out onto the path. Lu tries to trip him, but he’s nimble enough to leap right over her foot.

I take a deep breath of the outside air. The lake is just feet away, separated by the wooden dock and railings. There’s an array of small boats tied up along the docking lines, each of them bobbing slightly in the water.

Slade walks over to the guards waiting around by the carriage, handing them the parcels of food he had Barut make up for them. The men give him nods of thanks, and I’m struck by how different things are here.

Midas would have never given his guards food. It wouldn’t have even crossed his mind. It didn’t matter if they’d been stuck outside in the horrible snow or waiting around for hours inside. And yet, he got the reputation of the Golden King, while Slade is nothing but rot and ruin.

After Slade helps me up onto Honey, we all make our way down to the market, leading our horses around the tavern and down to the busy road once again. Luckily, it’s wide enough for our group plus the unmoving horses and carriages parked up and down the path. Just like up at Brackhill Castle, the roads are cobbled, the black stones scuffed, and the rest of the street lined with brick sidewalks where people walk in and out of the storefronts.

Just like before, I keep my head straight and my chin up, and I don’t pull up the hood of my cloak. Out here in the sun, my hair and skin gleams, so it’s very apparent that I’m not hiding, as everyone’s gaze draws toward me.

The air is thicker now, the warm humidity causing my palms to sweat even without wearing gloves. But Judd leads us right to the market on the docks, and the fresh breeze rolls right in, a constant cool exhale blown in from its sparkling surface.

The guards dismount first, one of them coming over to guide my horse to a hitching post. As soon as we’re all on our own two feet, the people in the market have all stopped to turn and see.

More gasps and shouts ring out as they greet their king and army captains, nearly every stall owner calling out to them. The shoppers have all stopped and turned too, parting as we start to walk down the path. The market consists of rolling carts set up along the street, while others sell their wares right from their bobbing boats.

Judd and Lu go look at a stall of weapons, while Digby hangs back with me. Slade gets a bit inundated with the public, but they keep a respectful distance while the guards watch over everything.

My eyes spring from one spot to another as I take in everything that’s being sold. Shawls and blankets, boots and buckles, jewelry and cloaks. So many of the shops cater to the fishermen as well, with fancy carved oars, perfected fishing nets, and poles that are as tall as the buildings. It’s a conglomerate of merchandise, too many things to track, too many voices to hear at once.

But I do hear one. One that seems to cut through the crowd, like a vocal arrow that’s nocked and aimed right for me, hitting its target with deadly accuracy.

“Do you see who that is? The gold one? You’ve heard of her! She’s the gilded pet—King Midas’s favored saddle. The one who stole his gold-touch and killed him because she was jealous.”

My gaze sweeps left, where I see the group of men huddled together against the wall of a stall selling battered fish tails. Brown eyes collide with mine, a middle-aged face peering at me beneath the floppy brown brim of his hat.

“Gilded Lady!”

I tear my eyes away from the men, finding a woman waving at me, gesturing to her cart where she’s selling bracelets. “I have perfect bracelets for you, Gilded Lady!”

With a smile, I wander over to her stall, but the men’s voices seem to follow me.

“Thought her being gold was just rumors,” a different man says, while I hear the telltale puff of a pipe.

“Nah, my cousin went to Highbell once. Said he saw her through a window at one of the public executions. That’s her, alright.”

“Whaddya think she’s doin’ here?”

The smiling stall owner pulls out bracelet after bracelet for me, but I don’t see any of them, too preoccupied with what the men are saying.

“Midas died, didn’t he?” the man counters. “Looks to me she’s got herself a new king already. Latched on from one to the other mighty fast.”

“Fucking women,” the other one says with a sardonic huff. “Always diggin’ their claws into the next best thing, ain’t that right? Hopping from one man to another. That’s all they do.”

“Yeah, I heard she slit his throat and then stole his magic. His gold-touch went rampant after that, gilded all of Ranhold, killed a hundred people inside, but she escaped.”

“That’s why I don’t trust saddles,” another one says, his raspy voice sounding one syllable away from a coughing fit. “If they’re paid to fuck, they won’t give a fuck.”

Several hocking laughs sound out.

I nearly jump when Slade’s hand comes to the small of my back. “Did you want something?”

Blinking, I focus on the bracelets set out in front of me, suddenly feeling guilty that the lady has probably been showing me things and talking to me, and I haven’t paid attention at all. “No,” I say, shaking my head. “They’re beautiful, but I don’t need any jewelry.”

“No one truly needs jewelry, my lady,” the woman says. “But it’s nice to have something pretty.” She holds out a simple band that has a black jewel in the center of it.

My fingers trail over the soft silver metal. “It is very pretty.”

“We’ll take it,” Slade says, passing the woman money. Her whole face brightens up.

“See that?” I hear the man say. “Got her claws into our king, didn’t she?”

“She must fuck like a goddess and squirt out gold cum.”

More jeering laughter. The raspy man finally ending it with a whooping cough.

My fingers fist at my sides, and gold starts to lather against my palms.

Behind me, Digby goes ramrod straight a split second before he lurches forward. I whirl around and catch his arm just in time, feeling the gold in my palm glob up and soak into his sleeve. “Don’t,” I tell him with a shake of my head.

“My lady—” he grits out.

“It’s fine.”

His face goes red, but at least the rest of his bruises have faded away. “It’s not.”

“What’s wrong?” Slade asks, coming up beside me with the wrapped up bracelet, his gaze bouncing between Digby and me.

I drop my hand, tuck it into my pocket. Though Slade’s eyes don’t miss the faint handprint on Digby’s shirt.

“Nothing’s wrong,” I say with a smile, though I think it’s shaky, because his gaze turns more intent, and he looks around us, as if searching for whatever might have upset me.

But one look over my shoulder, and I see that the men have scattered like rats from a sewer. The gold in my palm hardens like an angry stare.

“Actually,” I say, turning back around. “I think I’d like to head back to the castle now.”

“Really?” Slade asks.

I nod, and he watches me for another moment before he goes to speak to the others. I look back at Digby, noting his expression is pulled tight, brows shut in together with a crease. Brown eyes casting off disappointment like a drawn out shadow.

“Should’ve let me say something to them.”

His grumbled words almost unearth some of the soiled weight that’s been dumped on my chest.

“You can say something until you’re blue in the face, and it won’t do any good. People rarely change their opinions when they’re argued with. They only tend to listen to the voices of those they already agree with.”

“It isn’t right. What they’re saying about you.”

I look around, catching the eyes of more people, their willful stares making me itch like the searching scratch of wayward fingers.

“Or maybe it’s exactly right,” I say beneath my breath.

Digby’s eyes sharpen on me, but Slade comes back up before he can say anything else. “I think I’d like to sit in the carriage on the way back, if that’s alright,” I say.

Slade stops short, gaze diving into my own like he wants to swim past the surface and find what lurks beneath my deepest depths. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I say again, trying to perch that false smile on my face.

He looks over his shoulder at the others as they mount their horses. “You all go on ahead. We’ll catch up.”

Surprise flits through me, but I say nothing. Digby gives me a look before he follows Judd and Lu to the horses, while Slade leads me toward the carriage. I see the guards untether Honey, as well as Slade’s horse, attaching their reins to their own mounts.

All while more stares follow me, more voices chipping in.

“That’s the gilded pet. She killed Midas, you know. Caught him with another lover and stabbed him in a fit of jealousy.”

“You think that’s paint on her skin, or you think it’s really gold?”

“What do you reckon a lock of her hair is worth? Must be nice to walk around with wealth growing out of your scalp.”

“She’s nothin’ special. Take away the gold and what do you got? A jilted saddle who forgot her place.”

“What’s she doing here? Wasn’t one king enough for her? She’s gotta go and try and trap the eyes of ours too?”

“Hopefully, he’ll see through her gilded charms and rot her where she stands.”

“D’you think a golden girl can rot?”

I shut my eyes against the words, hoping that it’ll shut my ears as well. But still, they batter against me, like hail on a window, threatening to crack.

The driver of the carriage opens the door for us, and I settle inside first, sitting down on the plush green velvet seat. It’s bigger than the carriage I had to ride in while I was nothing more than a would-be captive in Fourth’s army, and it’s more elaborate too. Similar wood carvings are etched into the walls, geometric shapes drawing the eye to concentric diamonds and circles that overlap throughout the ceiling and walls.

When Slade gets inside after me, the door snaps shut behind him, and most of the light and even some of the noise is sealed out. The whole carriage jostles as the driver gets into his seat, and I hear the sharp click of his call as the horses begin to pull us forward.

Slade sits in the seat directly across from me, his wide legs opened on either side of mine. Some of the daylight feeds in through the curtained window right beside us, though it’s filtered through sheer green fabric.

Despite the sounds of the market, the excited voices when people see the royal emblem on the carriage as we ride by, and the clopping of the horses’ hooves, Slade’s quiet voice is the loudest thing in my ears. “Now, I want you to tell me what’s really wrong, and no lying, Goldfinch. I’ll know if you do.”