Page 15 of Maneater

The other courtesans fell silent as soon as they saw me.

It was always a gamble what kind of looks I’d get.

Leya’s gaze usually hovered between anger and a sneer, while Imogen and Rosette tended to either ignore or avoid me altogether.

Today, though, they all wore the same expression: disdain.

Their lips were tight, and it was clear their conversation had ended.

“Good morning,” I sighed, then sat down.

I gestured for a kitchenmaid to bring me my plate. “Save your stares. I won’t be long.”

“You’re here,” Leya said, raising an eyebrow. “We thought you’d be hiding in your room until the winter solstice festival was over. I almost welcomed the idea of not seeing you again before I left.”

“I wouldn’t worry, Leya.” I cut into a pear and speared a piece. “You won’t be dealing with me much longer.” I set the knife down. “When do you leave?”

“Just before fourth high-chime.”

“I suppose we’ll miss you in the library at third high-chime.” I replied, reaching for my tea. “Looks like my well wishes for safe travels are in order.”

“Why are you so chatty this morning?” Rosette remarked. “You never talk to us.”

“I don’t know. I just felt like it,” I answered. “Not everything needs to be overthought. Sometimes I just speak, Rosette.”

“Are you really that desperate to turn to us now that the prince has chosen Leya over you?” Imogen scoffed. “As if we care.”

“When Leya leaves, will you continue to speak to me like this, or will you retreat without her shadow to protect you, Imogen?”

“Say what you will, but you’re not as threatening as you think,” Imogen jibed.

“I’d be surprised if I were. I’m hardly intimidating. I’m just a girl from the outskirts, remember?” I took a slow sip. “Speaking of, it’s pretty cold there this time of year.”

Leya’s interest shifted to curiosity. I’d avoided sharing anything about Brier Len or the outskirts with her since the day she caught me in the hall pressing for answers. She’d tried again in the library, but I had offered nothing.

“How cold?” Leya asked casually, tapping her plate.

“Very cold,” I answered while studying her. “Have you traveled during the winter months?”

“I haven’t,” Leya replied. “When I was chosen as a royal courtesan, I was taken from my father’s estate in the inner city to Hyrall. That was spring. I haven’t traveled since.” Her brows furrowed. “I can’t even remember the last time I spent a full day outside during the winter.”

“I see,” I murmured. The three of them watched me closely, their eyes fixed on me.

“I used to walk for chimes through the snow from the market to my home. I didn’t have a carriage to take me upland to the market inland.

Some winters, the snow piled so high it reached my waist. On those days, I wouldn’t even dare step outside.

” I shrugged. “That’s when the winters were at their worst. Even the carriages couldn’t make the journey. ”

“What do you mean?” Leya asked, concern creeping into her voice. “What happened then?”

“Well, they had to wait out the cold until the snow let up. After that, the routes needed to be cleared before anyone could travel again. By then, it could take days, weeks, or even months. If you were lucky, your resources could cover the delay. The ones who survived had enough firewood, food, and water to last.”

“The prince has more resources than anyone in the kingdom,” Rosette cut in. “That would never be an issue.”

“Maybe,” I replied. “But that doesn’t keep the frost away.

Even with enough wood for the fire, the cold can still take its toll.

Once it sets in, there’s no stopping it.

It spreads, purple and rotten, eating away at skin and bone until you feel nothing.

If I were you, I’d find the thickest cloak you can, fur-lined and hooded.

And pack every pair of mittens and wool socks you own.

The frost always claims the ears, fingers, and toes first.”

“This must be some kind of trick to—” Rosette started, but a dismissive wave cut her off.

“Thank you,” Leya interjected. “When I was a child, my father would warn my brothers about frost while they were hunting.”

“You’re welcome.” I finished my tea and set the cup aside. “Best of luck in Torhiel.”

As I left the courtesans’ quarters, I heard the faint whispers of the other girls picking up again. All things considered, I couldn’t help but think my conversation with Leya had gone rather well.

I’d only just returned to my chambers from the library, but I wrestled with my thoughts.

Minutes passed and stretched into a chime.

It was becoming clear that Gadriel wasn’t going to summon me before he left.

If Leya was leaving before fourth high-chime, that gave me just under a chime before they would both be gone.

A chime to act.

I had three plans in place in case the first or second failed.

My palms grew clammy, but I forced myself to focus.

I walked over to the closet where my winter clothes were neatly arranged.

Leya, Rosette, Imogen, and I each received a set when we first arrived at the castle.

The clothing was meant for brisk walks or winter activities, but it seemed Gadriel had opted against those kinds of freedoms when setting our schedules.

My fingers traced the thick, fur-lined cloak, feeling the hidden bulges beneath the padding: ration packs wrapped in waxed cloth, a small pouch of coins, and a pocketknife. Gathering the food had been easy enough.

For the past fortnight, I’d had meals sent to my rooms, requesting preserved and dried goods.

The coins, however, had been more challenging.

As a royal consort, there was no need for me to carry gold or coin, everything we needed was provided.

But when I was called to service, I started pocketing small amounts from Gadriel’s chamber.

I was careful each time. If it was discovered that I’d stolen from the Crown Prince, my life would be the price.

Then again, being caught fleeing would seal my fate just the same.

The pocketknife had been an unexpected stroke of luck, as if fortune had kept it with me.

When I first arrived at Castle Hyrall, I wore a threadbare tunic and worn trousers.

After they stripped me of my clothes and bathed me to make me presentable, they didn’t bother to check my pockets or remove my belongings from the bathing chamber.

When they gave me a nightshift and left me alone, I quickly searched for the small knife and hid it between my breasts. Later, when I was shown what was meant to be my personal chambers, I tucked it beneath the mattress just before I was summoned to Gadriel for the first time.

A strange sound from outside caught my attention, the rhythmic clopping of hooves and the creaking of wheels against stone. My heart dropped, and I rushed to the window.

Four carriages were lined up at the inner gates of the castle, with Gadriel directing stewards and guards.

Trunks of supplies were being loaded into the first carriage, along with water barrels and horse fodder.

In the second, I spotted Sir Karst and two other knights packing their belongings.

The third carriage, sturdier and more fortified than the rest, had to be Gadriel’s.

That left the smallest carriage at the far end. That must be…

As the thought began to form, Leya’s voice floated faintly from the hallway. I hurried to the door and pressed my ear against it.

“Make sure the stewards bring every trunk, I’ll be counting them myself,” Leya instructed her guard. “And the carriage, has it been stocked with furs and pelts?”

“Yes, my lady,” the guard replied. “The preparations are underway. We’d better hurry. His Highness is already at the inner gates.”

“Of course, just give me a moment.”

Leya’s voice was tight, and I could hear her footsteps echo down the hall. A faint knock followed, accompanied by muffled voices. I leaned in closer to the door.

Moments later, her soft footsteps returned, then stopped.

“I’ll miss you both! Please take care of yourselves.”

She walked a few more steps, and her voice softened.

“All set, Sir Regis. I’m ready.”