Page 54

Chapter

Fifty-Three

L essia woke late the next day.

She scrambled to dress in her favored leathers and fastened her messy hair into a simple updo, with a few golden ringlets framing her face, when a guard outside her door knocked and shouted that the debate was to start.

She’d gotten used to Merrick storming into her chambers at dawn, waking her by throwing open the balcony doors to let in the freezing winter air. But it was quiet when she listened by his door, and when she opened it to peek in, the room was empty, the bed untouched.

Frowning, she opened the door to the hallway, allowing the horde of guards outside it to lead her to the same debate chamber they’d used when the nobles were in town.

While she hoped the commoners—many of whom she’d likely met in her business endeavors—would be less hostile than the nobles, she still steeled her spine as she walked into the crowded room.

“Lessia!”

Her eyes found Amalise’s blue ones across the room, and a smile spread over her face when her friend waved excitedly, nearly smacking the woman to her left.

Beside her stood a tired-looking Ardow. Even from a distance, Lessia could make out the deep circles under his eyes, the slump of his usually straight shoulders, and how the smile gracing his face did not brighten his dark eyes.

“You took your time. I was almost worried you might have run from the debate like you ran from me last night.”

Ripping her eyes from her friends, she met Loche’s.

She couldn’t stop her smile from widening when his eyes twinkled, the corner of his mouth lifting as his gaze snagged on her lips.

Loche raised a brow. “Perhaps you’re more afraid of me than being ripped apart before a crowd.”

She groaned when a blush threatened to creep up her neck, and Loche let out a deep chuckle as he stepped closer.

His scent invaded the space, and she sucked in a breath of mint and something wintry, like the smell of a fresh layer of snow on salty cliffs.

Shaking her head, she took a step back and tucked one of her free locks of hair behind her ear.

“Perhaps I find them better company.” She raised a brow when the fog that overtook her mind had lifted.

“You continue to tell yourself that.” Loche smirked.

She rolled her eyes and had moved to walk toward the stage when he offered her his arm.

Eyeing it, she hesitated.

Leaning in until his warm breath fanned over her, blowing a piece of hair across her face, he whispered, “I would say I don’t bite—but I’m not a liar. Although I prefer to do it in private.”

A shiver danced across her shoulders, and a nervous laugh bubbled up when his lips grazed the skin just below her ear .

“I don’t think they’ll wait for us all day.”

She snapped her eyes to his, realizing he’d stepped back, still with his arm in the air.

An amused smile played across his full lips when she finally took it.

Lessia scolded herself as they walked toward the dais and she threw another look toward her friends, finding Amalise grinning wide. Ardow’s mouth, though, was set in a straight line, his thick brows pulled down and eyes wary.

She raised her own brows when their gazes locked, but he subtly shook his head, eyes darting ahead of her.

As she followed his gaze, she realized she was already by the stairs.

Letting go of Loche’s arm, she walked ahead of him, taking up the seat in the hard chair next to Venko.

The blond man offered her a tight smile when she sat down, and she nodded back, briefly glancing at Craven.

He didn’t meet her eyes, keeping his straight ahead, his back rigid, and his features tense as he stared out over the crowd.

It was a lot bigger than that of the nobles—to be expected—but Lessia hadn’t quite realized just how many would attend today.

It seemed like every merchant, fisherman, and store owner in Asker was attending the debate. Every chair beneath the dais was filled, and several groups of people, including her friends, lined up by the back wall, some pushing forward to get a better look.

When Frayson ascended the dais, the people immediately fell silent.

“Welcome, people of Ellow. For those of you who haven’t attended before, this is your chance to evaluate the nominees for the next regent of Ellow.

You will all have the chance to ask questions and raise concerns that are keeping you up at night.

Please don’t be shy to ask what you think is necessary to decide who you will vote for to lead Ellow.

But I do ask that you do it one by one. This is a debate—not an opportunity to pick a fight.

If you’d like a specific nominee to answer your question, please address them directly. ”

Loche coughed beside her, and when she peeked at him, she realized he was laughing.

He smiled at her when he caught her staring, then moved his eyes forward.

“Well, I guess there is not much more to say. Please raise your hand, and I will choose the speaker.” Frayson clasped his hands behind his back and stepped to the side, hovering beside Loche’s chair.

A man in the front immediately shot his hand into the air, and as Frayson nodded to him, the door into the room slammed open.

Every head turned toward Merrick as he stomped inside, eyes cast down as he gruffly leaned his back against a free spot by the side wall amid the many soldiers standing guard.

Flickering her gaze over him, Lessia realized he wore yesterday’s clothing, and her brows furrowed as she wondered what task King Rioner might have assigned him that had him out all night.

As she shifted forward again, Loche’s eyes struck hers with such force her stomach surged.

Thankfully, the man Frayson had allowed to speak rose at that moment, clearing his throat.

“I’d like to address Lessia.”

Blood rushing in her ears, she focused on the man.

He was a regular in her taverns. Gerdho was a successful fisherman and a good man, judging by their interactions. His gaze didn’t waver as it met hers, but she found no hostility in it as he continued .

“I believe we were all surprised when Lessia nominated herself. And from what we’re hearing in town, she has not had the easiest time with it. I often visit her establishments, and from what I’ve seen, she treats her staff and her vendors exceptionally well.”

“Do you have a point?” Craven spat.

Gerdho snapped his eyes to Craven, contempt twisting his features as he beheld the noble.

“I thought the rule not to interrupt also applied to nominees, but perhaps our dear nobles are exempt?” he asked Frayson.

“It does. Craven, you will speak only when asked.”

Shaking his head, Craven clamped his mouth shut, but Lessia could smell the loathing in his scent, even with Venko seated between them.

“As I was saying. I have seen the good Lessia can do, and while I’ve heard the angry whispers about the risks of her Fae heritage, I’d like to take another angle instead: Lessia, how could your connections to Vastala help Ellow?”

Lessia swallowed.

She’d prepared for any and all questions about trade and taxes and even cattle.

But working with the Fae?

Every second that passed in silence seemed like an eternity.

What could she offer?

Crossing her legs, she leaned forward. “I can offer information that could facilitate better collaboration. I consider Ellow my home, and if working with the Fae can help us, I will share whatever I can to make that happen.”

She waited a beat to see if the blood oath would punish her, but when no pain seared through her arm, she continued.

“I will be honest. I am half-Fae. We’re not particularly popular in Vastala, either, but I lived there for years, and I know the customs and traditions that might aid in fostering better relationships. ”

“And you’re willing to share those with us?” a woman asked.

Lessia recognized her too.

She had worked in one of Lessia’s gambling rooms before she became a mother, and she’d even spent a few nights at their house when Ardow had caught her eye.

Shooting a quick glance at Merrick, she nodded. “I am willing to share whatever I can.”

Gerdho dipped his chin. “With these attacks we keep hearing of, we might need more weapons, perhaps even a stronger alliance if they grow worse—stop being limited to the nominees.”

“But what if the Fae are behind them?” a woman toward the back shouted.

“We’ve seen no such indication. All who attacked were human.

” Loche flicked his hair out of his face.

“I think you have a good point, Gerdho. I’ve been working to build a better alliance, and I think it’s wise to see how Lessia could aid in that—see how her differences can benefit Ellow, as her businesses have. ”

She threw Loche a surprised glance.

While she’d warmed to him, as Merrick had so rudely stated, for him to defend her, even speak up for her during a debate, when she was technically his opponent, was entirely unlike him.

Loche grinned at her when Gerdho thanked them and sat down again.

A red-haired woman in a worn brown coat stepped up next, and her voice quivered as she started to speak.

“My husband was a fisherman, and he provided for our entire family. But he…” She drew a shaky breath.

“He never came back from sea last month. None of his crew did. I have four young ones, and I can’t leave them to take up work.

We have no coins left, and food is becoming scarce.

I fear we’ll end up on the streets if I don’t find a solution.

Is there… is there something you can do to help us, especially with the sea becoming increasingly dangerous, risking more families end up like mine? ”

Lessia had never heard Loche’s voice be so gentle as when he leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees.

“Syvvie, we’ll not let you or your children end up on the street.

I have had to raise taxes already, but I will do so again to benefit the fishermen and any other families who struggle.

You will be provided for by me and my men. ”

“We can’t afford higher taxes!” several people grumbled, and ripples of assenting whispers rose across the room.

“We allow our employees to bring their children to the taverns, should they like. Perhaps there is a solution other than taxes,” Lessia offered.

When the crowd remained quiet, she fidgeted with her cloak, but when Loche met her eyes and inclined his head, she continued.

“I think most people prefer to provide for their own family, not rely on others. So, what I’ve offered one of our widowed cooks is to bring her children with her.

It’s worked out well—they even help sometimes, carrying smaller plates and cleaning.

It keeps them entertained, and their mother can work in peace, knowing they’re taken care of.

Perhaps more businesses could do the same. At least in the taverns and shops.”

One of Asker’s bakers rose from his seat. “I’d be happy for the extra help, and we also have our young ones running around—they’d enjoy the company, if you’d be interested, Syvvie? ”

Syvvie nodded, her flaming hair shining in the light of the chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Drops of tears streaked down her cheeks as she wrapped her arms around herself. “I’d like that. I’m a quick learner, and my little ones are good children. They would help if they could.”

As she took her seat again, warmth clawed its way into Lessia’s chest.

It wasn’t much, but it felt good to be able to offer something.

When she dared a look at Loche, pride glittered in his eyes, and he leaned back in his chair, waving for her to continue as another man stepped forward.