“I’m good. I’ve got some other people I need to see tonight. Check on Melnora. Give her my love.”
When Fin was gone and the crowd had thinned, Devery finally reached her. “Regency,” he said, his voice little more than a whisper.
She met his eyes steadily, though her heart was pounding. “Walk with me. I’ve got places I still need to be.” She turned her back on him. She knew that all eyes were still on her, that the Guild wanted to see how she would handle these first moments, so she put her back to the assassin, letting those still in the hall see that she was brave enough to do so, and made her way to the door at the back of the dais, toward the bowels of Guildhall. She listened to the absence of sound from his footsteps, not for the first time both horrified and amazed by the master assassin’s ability to be utterly undetectable.
She opened the door into a darkened hallway and felt—rather than heard—him slip in behind her. As she turned to him, his unnaturally dexterous hands slipped beneath her vest and unbuttoned her shirt. Her breath caught as she leaned in to kiss him. “I didn’t know you were back yet.” She felt the heat of his mouth against her throat and was met by silence as his lips found her breasts. She pressed herself against the wall as his fingers smoothly undid the laces of her breeches and found their way between her legs. “Dev,” she moaned, “I don’t know if …”
Her nipple audibly popped out of his mouth as he pulled away from her. She had to stop herself from pushing his hand immediately back to where it had been. “Gem,” he whispered, mouth pressing against her ear, “I’ve been gone three months. I want … I need to …”
She could feel his urgency as he pressed against her, the thin material of their clothes seeming like a futile barrier to desire. Aegos, I want him to bend me over and prick me right here, but … She drew herself straight, her own body requiring as much if not more restraint than his. “I promise, I’ll make it up to you,” she said, running a finger down the bulging front of his breeches. “But I have a meeting with the King of Above. I’m sorry, love.”
He kissed her, groaning against her mouth. “Don’t go. Don’t waste your time on the Above. I can think of much more entertaining ways of wasting your time.”
The hint of mischief in his voice sent shivers up her spine. “I have to go,” she said, sighing. “An assassin got Abram, too, Dev. Everything’s all cocked up. I need to see it straight.”
Devery leaned away from her. “Truly? Goddess.”
“I assume you haven’t heard anything?” she asked, straightening her shirt and tightening her laces.
He shook his head. “It wasn’t the Under. I can tell you that.”
“I might be late,” she said, pulling her vest down over her ass, “but you can wait for me in the home tunnel if you want.” He leaned against her, and she kissed him lightly on the forehead. “I’d be glad if you did.”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” he said. “I am secretly in love with the Queen of Under now.”
She wanted to curl up in his arms, and if she didn’t force herself to go, that was exactly what she would do. “There’s something I want to tell you later.”
He kissed her deep and long before he said, “Why not tell me now?” His hand wandered up the buttons of her shirt as he leaned in to kiss her once more.
“Not in the dark.” She laughed, biting his lip. Though she could have easily been convinced to stay here and spend the evening with him, she knew what she had to do. She’d already decided on the disguise she’d wear when she went to the Six-Mast to meet with Tollan. Until she knew who was really behind the attacks on Melnora and Abram, she had to take every precaution. “Want to help me get dressed?”
“I believe we have established that is exactly the opposite of what I want to do.”
CHAPTER FIVE
SIX-MAST INN
Wince was led through a labyrinth of hallways by a curvy young woman in an apron and little else. Despite the scenery, he couldn’t help but wonder why he was meeting his best friend, who should be in the palace being crowned king, at this moment, in the most infamous whorehouse in Yigris. Somehow, he knew it wasn’t good, but he couldn’t put all the pieces together. His mind slipped backward as memories rose to the surface like air bubbles from the deep.
Tollan had burst into the stables, eager for some sword work, but Wince blurted, “What does ‘in perpetuity’ mean?”
“Goddess, Wince!” Tollan had stammered, slamming the door shut behind him and staring at the slim black-and-red leather volume Wince had swiped from under Tollan’s tutor’s nose. “You’re not supposed to read that! Nobody’s supposed to read that!”
“What do you mean? You and Master Yubron have been reading it for weeks.”
“Yes, but … but it’s only for Daghans. It’s a secret.” Tollan lowered his voice and then glanced over his shoulder as if half expecting his father to be standing there. “If anyone finds out, you’ll be strapped for sure.”
“They can’t do that. My father’s the weapons master. He would …” But his voice trailed off. The king could do anything he wanted.
“Just give it to me, Wince. I’ll put it back and no one will know. I won’t tell.”
“I know you won’t tell, Toll. But what does it mean?”
For an instant, Tollan seemed to war with himself but then a proud grin spread across his face. “It means that my father’s in charge of the good people, and his cousin’s in charge of the bad ones. But they work together to keep Yigris safe, so we’ve got enough gold. It means that someday, I’ll be in charge of the Above, and no thief or pirate can say or do anything against me because my family’s in charge of them, too. In perpetuity.” He winked at Wince. “That means forever.”
Wince stared at him openmouthed. “Do you think you’ll actually meet a real thief?”
Tollan nodded. “There’s a thief queen. She’s House Daghan, too, and when I’m king, she and I will make deals and bargains.”
Wince stared off for a long moment. Then he grinned at Tollan. “Do you think she’s pretty?”
“This is the room of Mr. Hu Tratala.” The girl broke into his reverie. “He is a fine, upstanding gentleman, not a rogue like you,” she winked playfully at him as his gaze slipped down then immediately bounced back up to her face. She curtsied and pinched his backside as she walked past him.
It was downright scandalous … but that didn’t stop him from swelling within his small clothes and fantasizing about what a woman like that might be willing to do. There were no women like this in Above. There were dowdy mistresses and young women with their hair curled too tight. Of course, it wasn’t seemly for a woman to behave so saltily. It was the man’s place to express desire, to control the relationship. The world where he lived was rigid and cold, but from what he’d seen of the Under thus far, this was exactly the kind of adventure Wincel Quintella could get used to.
When Tollan opened the door to his room at the Six-Mast, Wince couldn’t help but let out a harsh bark of laughter.
“What?” Tollan grunted. “Is the eye patch too much?”
“Nah. I mean …” Wince choked on another laugh, and then he smiled. “I’m just teasing, Toll. Ah, prick.” He glanced away. “I’m sorry about your father.”
Tollan nodded. “Thank you. I’ve got a bit to tell you.”
As Wince followed him into the bedroom, Tollan briefly considered doing a jaunty pirate’s jig or knocking Wince’s trick knee out of place the way he had when they were kids. But they were grown men now, and no comedic device was going to lessen the strain of this night.
“This is as good a time as any, Toll. Tell me what’s going on. Why are we doing”—he waved in the direction of Tollan’s costume—“whatever the prick this is?”