Heart of Fire (12 page)

She snarled and took off toward the
stairs. Ertemis looked across the hall at Jessalyne’s door. Why
hadn’t she snuck into his room instead? Thoughts of her sweet and
willing in his bed almost made him moan. He thought of the pouch on
his belt that now held her gift and he smiled. He eased the door
shut so as not to wake her, and went back to bed where dreams of
moonlight skin and lavender eyes lulled him to sleep.

* * *

Jessalyne tipped her head forward
and brushed her hair slowly, dragging the bristles from the nape of
her neck down. The salve she’d reapplied to her sore legs and
backside upon waking had barely taken the edge off the ache in her
backside and legs.

The knock at the door must be
Ertemis making sure she was up. Still brushing her hair, she called
out so he’d know she was awake. She couldn’t bear to look at him
knowing how he’d spent his night.

The door opened and a feminine voice
bid her good morning. “The master has sent tea for you,
miss.”

Jessalyne smiled at Valduuk’s
continued hospitality. “He’s too kind.” She tossed her hair back
and stared straight at the girl she’d seen slip into Ertemis’s room
last night. Her stomach pitched and heat tingled at her
fingertips.

“Honey in your tea, miss?” the girl
asked.

“Yes, please.” Jessalyne composed
herself. No reason to be upset with the girl. Ertemis was the
whorehound. What chance did any woman have against those
silver-edged eyes or that promising smile? “What’s your
name?”

“Dalayna.” She handed Jessalyne a
mug of fragrant tea. “Did you sleep well, miss?”

“Yes, thank you.” Jessalyne carried
the teas over to the small vanity. She sat in front of the oval
reflection glass and began plaiting her hair.

“Good, then.” The girl giggled. “I’m
glad to know the ruckus across the hall last night didn’t keep you
up.”

A hot, thick wave of nausea rolled
through Jessalyne. She met the girl’s eyes in the mirror. “What do
you mean?”

“Your traveling companion, miss. I
served him last night in the tavern.” She giggled again. “I guess I
served him above the tavern as well.”

The tingle in Jessalyne’s hands
increased and her fingers lost their way. She started the braid
over. “How nice for you,” she mumbled. She couldn’t imagine any of
the cervidae women talking so boldly about private
affairs.

“How could I resist? He’s devilishly
handsome. Anyway, I had to see for myself if the old rhyme was
true.” Dalayna occupied herself with making up the bed. She did a
poor job of it.

“What rhyme?” Jessalyne stopped
trying to braid her hair altogether. She crushed her palm against
the bristles of the brush, watching the girl in the
mirror.

“You know the one, elves of light
give smiles all night but the darker skin brings a bigger grin,”
she chanted. “Sure enough, he was a fine toss. Best I’ve ever had,
and quite impressive in his all-together. That dark skin...” She
sighed with longing.

Jessalyne’s blood rose. Pricks of
heat danced along her spine. She didn’t know if the girl toyed with
her apurpose or spoke brashly as a rule but she would not be made
the fool.

She forced a smile and faced the
wench. “He is most pleasing in his natural state, isn’t
he?”

Dalayna’s smug expression
dissolved.

Jessalyne continued with what she
hoped passed for condescension. “Poor thing, he would dally with an
old mother when the drink is in him.” She clucked her tongue. “Pity
such fine flesh is so thinly spread.”

Dalayna’s face bleached. Her brown
eyes gleamed with fury. Perhaps she wasn’t as simple-minded as she
appeared. .

“Will that be all?” The trollop’s
voice frosted the air between them.

Jessalyne turned back around to
braid her hair. “I can think of nothing else you’re needed
for.”

Chapter Six

Sryka swallowed a simple potion to
dull the ache in her bones before she left to speak with the
prince.

“Fynna, while I am gone, I want
these floors scrubbed spotless. I have begun to think you nigh
worthless. This is your chance to prove me wrong.” Sryka tapped her
staff on the floor for emphasis. She cared very little if the
floors were clean, keeping the pixie occupied was the true
task.

“Yes, mistress.” Fynna
nodded.

Sryka slogged down the curved
stairway, pausing to rest twice. There were too many blasted steps
between her and Erebus. Her aged body needed the spell of renewal
soon. Patience. The child was on her way.

At last, she stood at the door of
the conservatory. The prince was a man of rare and dubious tastes.
He boasted of his collection of exotic plants and made a show of
feeding the carnivorous ones in front of guests.

Sryka pushed through the foggy glass
doors. The warm dampness sucked at her, as if it knew how much she
loathed the place. Too much green, growing energy. Too much color.
An earthy stench befouled the already unbreathable air.

Poisonous bloodfruit hung from vines
threading up the walls like green veins. Thorns covered the
branches of one tree. Another oozed corrosive sap. She found him in
the thick of the conservatory, stroking the furred leaves of some
hideous weed.

“Sryka.” He spit her name out like a
piece of spoiled meat. “What pressing matter brings you out of your
wretched tower?”

“Prince Erebus, so good to see you,”
she lied.

He dangled a mouse by its tail. The
creature squirmed and squealed, its tiny feet scratching the air.
He dropped it into the plant’s fleshy maw. A sucking sound filled
the air. Erebus nodded. “Get on with it.”

Sryka sneered. If she didn’t need
the renewal so badly, she’d let him twist in the wind like that
rodent. She reached into her robe and extracted the lunestone
amulet, facing the glowing gem toward the prince with great
satisfaction. “The child comes.”

* * *

Jessalyne threw on her overvest and
slippers and raced down the stairs to Valduuk’s
quarters.

He opened after the second knock.
“Good morning, my lady! Come in. I didn’t expect you so early but
let me call cook. She can have breakfast for you in a
moment.”

She shook her head. “I’m not here
for breakfast, not yet. I need some help.”

“Anything, of course. What can I do
for you?”

She looked at her clothes. “This,”
she plucked at her simple tunic, “will not do. I need something
more...something like what the townswomen wear.”

“Ahh,” he nodded. “I
understand.”

Valduuk scribbled directions on a
scrap of parchment. “Tell the proprietress I sent you.”

“Thank you.” She smiled. “I won’t be
long.”

Jessalyne found Valduuk’s map easy
to follow and in minutes she stood before the clothier he’d
directed her to.

A bell jangled as she walked in. The
shop overflowed with ready-made women’s clothes. An older woman
with elaborate braids in her grey hair greeted her. “Good morning,
miss. May I help you?”

“Master Valduuk sent me. I need
something better to wear.” She looked around. “I don’t know where
to start.”

The woman smiled, blue eyes
twinkling. “I’m Mistress Chara. Let’s see what suits you, shall
we?”

Chara dressed Jessalyne in a pale
green blouse scooped low at the neckline and matching long full
skirt. “This color does wonderful things for your eyes but the most
important part is the bodice.”

She showed Jessalyne one of the
boned tapestry belts she’d seen many the townswomen
wearing.

“Is this the nicest one you
have?”

“I have another t’would go with this
outfit, but it’s a few more silvers than this one. Very beautifully
worked leather. I’ll fetch it.”

Tooled flowers and vines covered the
deep green leather. Thin slices of animal bones stitched inside
kept it rigid. Chara laced the bodice around Jessalyne’s waist. The
tighter she pulled, the higher Jessalyne’s chest rose, creating
deep cleavage between the pale crests of her bosom.

“How does a person breathe in this?”
she gasped.

“Takes some getting used to, doesn’t
it?” Chara laughed.

A few minor adjustments and Chara
led Jessalyne to the long polished glass.

“You look lovely.”

Jessalyne stared into the glass. A
stranger stared back. She didn’t quite have Dalayna’s curves but
the bodice worked wonders. No longer did she see an odd, out of
place girl. Instead, she gazed at woman of the realm, a woman fit
for Shaldar City. At least fit on the outside.

“Yes,” she whispered, “this will
do.” Let that blasted halfling look at her now and call her
girl.

The woman went into the back room,
returning with a tray of hair combs. With deft fingers, she coiled
and twisted Jessalyne’s braids, slipping in a comb here and there.
Chara’s touch relaxed her like a hot bath. She opened her eyes and
smiled. “I never imagined my hair could look like that.”

“I was a lady’s maid for many
years.” Chara showed her how to attach her dagger and coin pouch to
the leather loops hidden around the bottom of the bodice. She
slipped a matching pair of green leather slippers onto Jessalyne’s
feet.

“May I wear this now? I couldn’t
bear to put my old clothes back on.”

“Of course. I’ll bundle your other
clothes.” Chara rolled the tunic and overvest and wrapped them in
paper and twine.

“Thank you so much. I feel
transformed. I’ll be sure to tell Valduuk what a great help you’ve
been.” Jessalyne held out a handful of coins, unsure of how much it
had all cost. Mistress Chara counted out the right amount and bid
her farewell.

On her walk back to the tavern,
Jessalyne’s stomach grumbled. Hopefully, she hadn’t missed
breakfast. She couldn’t wait to see the look on Ertemis’s face. She
hoped the outfit made him want her so badly he begged to kiss her.
Telling him no would be a great pleasure.

She knocked on Valduuk’s door again
and he answered promptly, as though he were waiting. He smiled and
nodded approvingly when he saw her. “We are just sitting down to
the table. The food will be out soon. Come, I think my halfling
friend should like to see this.” He winked at her, putting her
wrapped bundle on a nearby chair.

Valduuk walked ahead of her into the
dining room, blocking Ertemis’s sight line. “Your tardy mistress
has finally graced us with her presence.” He stepped to the side,
allowing Ertemis full view of her as she entered the
room.

Ertemis looked up from a steaming
mug of tea. Jessalyne took great satisfaction in the drop of his
jaw. She lifted her chin slightly. “Good morning.”

He stared at her, wordless. She held
his gaze, daring him with her eyes not to respond. The soft swish
of her skirts pleased her as she moved around the table to her
place. Valduuk pulled her chair out and she fluffed her skirts out
over the seat. “Thank you, sir.”

Valduuk sat across from her and rang
a small bell. The cook came in with the first of the trays. “Ready
for your vittles, sir?”

“Aye, cook. Thank you.” Valduuk
ignored the still speechless elf. “I must compliment you, Lady
Jessalyne. You look more beautiful than yesterday. That color is
lovely on you.”

“You’re very kind.” She couldn’t
help but smile. Compliments were not something she was used
to.

Ertemis remained silent. Valduuk
moved in his seat and she heard a soft thunk. She suspected Ertemis
had just been kicked and when he shot Valduuk an angry glare, she
felt sure of it.

“Aye. Lovely,” Ertemis
mumbled.

Cook set the platters down and the
trio tucked into heaps of fried eggs and sausages, buttered
mushrooms and biscuits topped with seedberry preserves and thick
whipped cream.

“You spoil us, Valduuk.” Jessalyne
licked a dollop of cream off her fingers.

Ertemis missed his biscuit and bit
his finger.

“I trust you both slept well,”
Jessalyne said.

Valduuk helped himself to another
sausage. “Very well, thank you. I had cook pack food for your trip.
Bread, cheese, apples, that sort of thing.”

Ertemis spoke around a mouthful of
food. “Good of you.” He finished chewing and added, “My bed was
sufficient.”

Jessalyne lowered her eyes and bit
back a retort. I’m sure your bed was sufficient. Sufficiently full
of tavern wench. She sipped her tea. I am just business.

So what if her new outfit brought
little response from him. By the distracted look in his eyes, he
was probably still lost in Dalayna’s ample charms. So she couldn’t
fill a gown like that little chit. Valduuk thought she looked
beautiful. Even if that blasted halfling didn’t.

“Did you purchase the saddle?” She
directed the question to Ertemis in her most businesslike
manner.

“Aye. And saddlebags.” His eyes
swept her newly exposed bosom before picking at the crumbs on his
plate. Probably comparing her to that tavern hussy. She doubted
that tart could afford an outfit like this. Unless Ertemis had paid
her for last night’s pleasure. With her gold. New rage crackled
over her skin.