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“Go on, don’t be a tease,” I needled her, simply because she looked embarrassed. “Give me a number.”

“I…don’t know?”

I pressed. “A general ballpark?”

“I mean, about four dozen?” She cleared her throat. “So far this year, anyway.”

That made me laugh too; that was exactly what I would have guessed.

I knew Kore entertained herself by accepting suitors for a year or two. Kore also rejected a man every week until she stopped wasting her time. Guys who went about finding a partner that way rarely were after more than a formal alliance, and well, Saltzins didn’t need to climb ladders.

I could have told her that my cousin dealt just as many rejections to make her feel better, but her flush was too adorable, so instead, I kept teasing her. “I’m impressed, heartbreaker.”

“Their hearts were never involved,” she assured me. “They wanted my father’s money, or either of my parents’ social standing. But anyway, yeah, I have a date every week or so.”

I returned to the point. “Does anyone stand out? Too insistent, entitled, dejected?”

“I mean—sure. A few? But I don’t think they could bemurderers.”

“I’m a murderer,” I reminded her gently.

“You know what I mean. You wouldn’t kill without a reason.”

“You’re unbearably naïve, and desperately need my assistance. Luckily for you, I’m available this week.” Or rather, I had planned plenty of things, but none were pressing, so they’d wait until the immediate danger was out of the way. “First step: carving some nice runes out of you.”

Kleos grimaced. I was ready to explain my theory in detail, but to my surprise, her protests had nothing to do with the prospect of further cuts into her skin. “I’ve heard about your consultant fees. I can’t afford you—not without asking my father for the money, and I’d rather not have to do that. My mother would hear about it, and that wouldn’t be good.”

I found it adorable that she thought I’d charge her. The very idea was ludicrous.

Yes, I did take piles, mountains of golds from strangers, particularly valers with more money than sense. But I had, and would, never ask for money from people who actually needed me.

“We can make other arrangements.”

“What?” she gasped, wide-eyed.

There was no mistaking her blush.

“Fuck you very much for even thinking that.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m not desperate to fill my bed, believe it or not.”

She had the sense to look abashed. “So, what’s your price? Not firstborns, I hope. I’m fresh out of those.”

“I don’t do children, love. Too chewy.” I winked at her. “With you, I’ll trade my services for an unnamed favor of equal value, how’s that?”

“Sounds like making a deal with the devil,” she told me.

“Welcome to the underside. That’s the only kind of deal you’ll find down here.”

First, I retrieved a pot filled with a black-as-night liquid, and then, I rifled through my stores of finished potions for the right brews: two vials, already portioned into individual doses. One was silver, the other, green.

I handed her the silver one.

“A healing drought?”

I nodded, unsurprised she’d identify it. “Specialized anesthesia. You won’t feel any pain for a while. Well, you won’t feelanything, really. The second potion will counteract the effects, and I’ll give it to you as soon as it’s done. You’resafe.”

How could she feel safe? She was going to be completely helpless with a stranger.

“I know. And what’s this?” she asked, pointing to the pot.