Page 61
Story: Gilded Locks
“I… I don’t know.”
Father quirked his head to the side. “Don’t know, or don’t want to say?”
Grace shook her head. “I don’t know. It could be the Rogue, James, but… this doesn’t seem like him. He was so insistent that he wanted to save people from their suffering.”
Father nodded. “If James Patton’s neutrality could hide a disapproval of the mayor, it could also hide an inclination to violence.”
“He just seemed so”—Grace searched for a word—“good-hearted.” And fun, and flirty. She was letting her heart get in the way. “But I can’t be sure.”
Her parents seemed to accept her answer. Grace grimaced, waiting for the rebuke she deserved. Not only had she brought someone into the fortress, she’d brought someone she may not be able to trust.
But it never came.
Instead, her parents began discussing a trip to the market.
“We ought to get more ice. There’s no telling if we’ll need it.”
Grace sat in dazed confusion while her parents decided they could spare Mother for a half-day’s trip. The vendor had told her more ice would be coming in within the week. It was worth the delay. If they didn’t have ice on hand as soon as possible, it could be risky.
She almost asked them why they weren’t on her case, but she didn’t actually want their ire.
So she sat quietly as her parents discussed.
When she headed to bed, it was with a heavy heart. Despite the fact that the harvest ought to be in full swing, her parents wouldn’t be helping for at least a portion of the day. Not only was Mother going to Vathra, Father had agreed to arrange for a meeting with James in his home so he could snoop for signs of gold.
Grace, too, would be participating in the investigation into the Zerudorn gold, but her part could be done while harvesting. She wanted to talk to Alaina Dahl, who would be out in the fields.
Grace woke the next morning at sunrise, having gotten only five hours of sleep, which might be fine under normal circumstances, but she’d not fully recovered from previous short nights, and she had a full day of harvesting wheat ahead of her.
Not five minutes after Grace trudged into the field, the shrill voice of the town crier sent her burgeoning headache into sharp focus.
A Proclamation from our mayor:
Citizens of Fidara,
The villainous Rogue has attacked one of our own. The home of our newest residents, Lord and Lady Leroux, was broken into. Nothing was sacred. He ate their food and scattered what he did not want across the kitchen floor. Their furniture—chairs, tables, shelves, beds—was strewn about and broken. Treasured trinkets were stolen and destroyed.
This is not the work of a servant of the people, but a vindictive scoundrel of a Rogue, using tactics of his predecessor.
Until this terror is caught, I must defend my town and citizens. Our patrols shall continue to guard the town and forest sunup to sundown. He cannot escape us.
It is with regret that I increase the taxes by another three percent for all. Our stores simply cannot pay the exorbitant expense of protecting the city at all hours.
I urge anyone with knowledge of the Rogue’s whereabouts or plans to come forward. Leniency will be offered to those who do. I’m confident such loyal citizens could not know his true motives. He is not helping our people, but making life miserable for each and every one of us.
Band together, Fidarans. Catch this menace.
Grace’s first sign that Willa had arrived in the field was the curse she uttered after the town crier dashed off to the next field.
“That worm of a mayor is blaming it on the Rogue? There’s nothing but a grain of wheat in that golden-haired head.”
Turning to her companion, wincing the entire way, Grace sighed. How she wanted to agree with Willa, but her uncertainty about James’s actions hadn’t faded. Her skepticism must have shown.
“You agree with him!?” Outrage ruled Willa’s tone. At least it wasn’t shrill. With the crier gone, Grace’s head was feeling a bit better.
“I’m getting some water,” Grace said.
Willa followed Grace to the nearest well. “I’m serious, Robbins. I don’t think it could be that man. You heard him. His fight is with the mayor, not my family. He stopped Uncle Gustav from taking me to jail. Of course, I would’ve had words with my uncle if he’d had the chance to try, but the point is, that doesn’t sound like a menace to me.”
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