Page 26
Story: The Ballad of a Bard
“My brother, Cobalt. He came into this world early. And because of that, because we were poor,arepoor- he falls ill often. Enough that I constantly have to provide certain medications for him or he’ll die. Medicine isn’t cheap, especially for those of us who live in the Bronze Gate.” She untucked the braid at the back of her head, letting it tumble down her back.
West enjoyed the vibrant, unusual colour of it. The way it remained stick-straight even after being pinned up for what he assumed had been hours in a plait. The way it contrasted her pale skin and green eyes, the almost wine shade of it. Fitting for her name, both of them.
“I see.” He understood her conundrum, but he also couldn’t very well let Lyric make another appearance. Altivar was far cleverer than he let on. It would only be a matter of time before the Prince uncovered the truth for himself. Especially if she kept working as one of Roland’s serving girlsandfighting in the Blades as the infamous Red Lyric.
“I can’t just quit either. Grimm, he’d be suspicious if I didn’t turn up for my next bout.” Crimson argued. “He’s the one who pays me, and I can’t afford to lose his graces. If I’m not able tofind another job that compensates as well as competing, there’s no telling if he’ll let me back in after I scorn him. I can’t fail Cobalt.”
West considered the part with the owner of the Pits already. “Let me deal with Grimm. I’ll be able to get him to let you go without repercussions.”
“Because he’s the Warrior?” She cross examined him with a cross expression. “It’s not that difficult to figure out, if one looks close enough.”
Smart girl.
“You’re far more cunning thanyoulet on. Is the dainty girl just a farce then?” West smirked towards the side. “Because you pull it off fantastically if it is.”
“Less people looking at me if I don’t share the same traits with a fierce opponent.” She shrugged and started to unbutton her leathers. Silver hooks kept her in and he was about to stop her when he saw the cloth she wore under it.
“I’ll make you a deal.” He began, already knowing how much it would cost him but offering it up all the same. This was a bigger matter at stake than sharing his room in the palace. “The healers in the palace are some of the finest I’ve ever seen. They’ve been able to handle and treat almost everything that comes in the door. Bring your brother there, and I’ll pay for his costs.”
Crimson stopped fidgeting with her clothes. “I can’t just leave him there in an unknown place. If he wakes up and doesn’t recognize it, then he’ll have a panic attack and it could detriment his health even more.”
He held up a hand. “You didn’t let me finish. I was going to tell you to come to the palace as well. I have a room there, close to the healing ward that you can stay in.”
She blinked, as if she didn’t hear him properly. “I can’t just live in your rooms, with you.”
He tucked his smile away at her flustered face. “You can, and you will. I’m hardly ever in my rooms anyways, thanks to the title of Captain of the Watch. Nothing untoward will happen if we do share a bed, I promise you.”
He didn’t miss the crimson tint to her cheeks, over her nose, around her ears. “Take the deal, Crimson. It’s the best chance for your brother and it kills two birds with one stone. It’s rare that I would sleep there anyways, and I always have a spare room at the Compass if it truly makes you that uncomfortable. But your brother needs all the help he can get and I’m able to offer it to you at little to no cost, for both of ourselves.”
She looked up at him earnestly, with tears puddling at the corners of her eyes and in her waterline. “And all I would have to do is stop pretending to be Red Lyric? To not enter in anymore fights and lay down my daggers?”
He nodded. “That’s it. I can find work for you in the castle if you’re so determined to stay away from being idle, but you won’t have to sacrifice your life in order to help him. What do you say?”
The girl pulled her gaze away from him, contemplating every side to it as she pulled off her jacket and tucked it into the satchel. She grabbed for a corset, tucking it under her waist and lacing it up with impressive speed.
“I think there’s no downside to this.”
“There isn’t.” West assured her. He knew where her mind must have gone because he said, “I know that other Saints, like the Imp and the Warrior, only do things that best suit them, but I’m not like that. This isn’t something that suitsme,benefitsme, but everyone. Because if Altivar does what I think he’s going to do, then it won’t be in anyone’s best interest.”
Crimson held her hand out to him. “Okay. I will agree to it all. But on one condition.”
West motioned for her to elucidate before he agreed on anything.
“Cobalt needs help now. He moves into the palacetonight.” She stared up at him, determination blazing as bright as a star in the midnight sky. He admired that flash of confidence and negotiation within her.
It was a comet, wrapped in fire and stardust.
Alluring, attractive, significant.
“That’s perfectly fine with me. I’ll even help you move your things from the Compass as soon as tonight’s events are over. Finish out your shift with Roland and I’ll come find you before everyone leaves.” West took her hand and shook it, his lips turning upwards. “I’m glad you agreed,Heartstrings.”
She scowled, yanking her hand from his grasp roughly. “Don’t call me that.”
Eleven
When West found Altivar again, there was no sign of Torrhen. There was not a single scrap of see through silk or velvety satin out of place, nor an unruffled button to be found on the collected figure of the Prince. Instead, he sat upright on the viridian cushions with a sack of salted nuts in his hands as he munched on them, eyes glued to the arena below them as another fight was nearly at an end. A half-finished chalice of summery wine sat on a nearby table, white by the pear and saffron smell of it.
“Where did you scurry off to, Captain?” Altivar curiously surveyed him for the barest of seconds before returning his attention to the Blades. West was surprised he could still see from his lazy slouch on the couch.
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