Page 17

Outside the carriage, plenty of humans milled about, but they weren’t alone.

Creatures that would appear otherworldly in Moonglade or the Glen were ordinary here.

Fur, scales, and horns could be seen in wide variations.

Some folk had protruding teeth, others were towering or smaller than cats.

A furred orc kissed a human girl’s hand while she giggled, offering her a flower that bloomed in sparkling blue.

“I’m such a fool for only believing in what my eyes could see.” Reed’s voice drifted through the carriage, full of wonder.

“No, not a fool,” she said. “Just human. But now you’re a successful merchant who’s traveled the world, so try not to look too surprised.”

“That one has wings ,” he hissed. “I apologize if I’m not able to look sufficiently bored.”

A single brow rose up her forehead. “You have a few moments longer to practice then, Mr. Jones Taylor.”

After passing a flower shop, its windowsills blooming with pots of dark purple petunias, Lucas drew the carriage to a stop in front of the White Cat Inn, its walls ivory marble.

Dulce placed a velvet bag of coins in Lucas’s hand for him to venture to the servants’ quarters before she entered the establishment with Reed.

The scent of roses permeated the air, and black and gold filigree lined the cream damask wallpaper along the mirror-adorned walls.

Plush crimson chairs around a glass table decorated the center of the room atop a fur rug, and beyond that, a desk behind which a faun-like creature stood, his spectacles dangling at the edge of his snout, his horns curved.

Reed gawked at the creature, and Dulce elbowed him in the ribs.

“Ow,” he groaned.

“Exude at least some boredom,” she murmured.

“I thought I was.”

“What you were doing was more like an exceptionally surprised blowfish when it’s been pulled from the water.”

Reed’s shoulders shook with laughter, and Dulce bit her lip to keep from falling into a giggle spell herself.

The faun glanced up as they approached his desk. “Welcome,” he spoke in a deep voice. “How may I help you?”

“We’d like your finest room.” Dulce placed a handful of coins on the desk. “I’m unsure of the length of our stay, but this should cover a week, I’m sure. My husband and I are on our honeymoon, you see, and are traveling across the territories.”

“This is the perfect place for you then.” He drew open a drawer and passed her a golden key once she signed the registry Mr. and Mrs. Jones Taylor as Reed had at the Black Fox.

“Second floor. Room 214. Our dining room is available to guests at all hours, and on the third level, you will find ballrooms and gardens, and in the lower basement level the gambling spaces, if you’re looking for more entertainment.

Before I forget, here is an invitation to the Duke’s annual party. Everyone is welcome.”

“Oh! Thank you,” Dulce exclaimed. “Sweetheart, look! A festival, what fun.”

Reed didn’t have to feign surprise this time. “It sounds grand.”

Dulce walked beside Reed down a long hallway, where black and scarlet masks hung. Some full faces, others only half.

They descended a curving staircase and found their room as soon as they took the last step.

Inside, the enormous space held two lavish beds draped in dark silk blankets, gossamer curtains covering glass doors leading out to a balcony draped in vines.

A wardrobe stood in one corner across from a writing desk.

“I like this place better already,” Reed announced, placing their luggage beside the bed.

“Are you sure something isn’t lurking down there?” Dulce said, and when he glanced uneasily at the furniture, she added, “I’m only jesting.”

“I’ll owe you for that.” He winked.

She could only imagine what he meant by his response and changed the subject to more pressing matters. “So, I’m contemplating where we should start. Any ideas?”

“Easy answer.” He ticked his finger in the air. “The gambling room. It’s a place where gossip slips from the tongue and questions can be asked without appearing suspicious.”

“See?” She grinned. “It’s most advantageous having you here as my dear husband.”

Reed slowly trailed a finger across his lower lip. “I take it you don’t know anything about cards?”

“Not a thing.” That was something she’d never been taught by her mother, but now Dulce wished she’d learned a game or two herself. The only cards she knew were the ones Vesta used for fortune-telling.

“Come on, pretty wife.” Reed offered her his arm with a grin. “Let’s go downstairs, and I’ll teach you a round.”

She folded her arm around his, the sense of familiarity with this gesture already becoming.

He opened the door, and she followed him through the establishment and down to the basement, where a smoke-filled tavern was already crowded.

At least twenty tables took up the area.

A middle-aged woman served drinks in silver steins behind a bar, and the musicians playing drums of painted skins and flute-like instruments sat in gnarled branches, their music drifting through the room.

It was an experience she’d never witnessed in Moonglade.

Reed stopped before a table where one chair stood vacant, and two older men and a young creature with three small horns occupied themselves playing a game of cards.

“Hello, gentlemen, may we join you?” Reed asked, already sliding the lone chair back.

“If you have coin to lose,” one of the older men with a long gray beard grunted, and they all laughed.

Dulce glanced around to find a spare chair, but Reed drew her into his lap as he sank down, settling an arm around her waist, making her heart beat merrily like bat wings. “My wife wants to learn to play.”

At least Dulce wouldn’t have to pretend ignorance at the game. Draping her arm around Reed’s shoulders, she declared, “After a few rounds, perhaps I won’t be as abysmal.”

“You’ll get the hang of it,” the creature said with a smile. He shuffled the cards before passing them around the table to each person. “Or not!” and they all laughed again, including Reed.

“Oh, I see how it is,” she pouted in a teasing manner.

Reed’s thumb caressed her hip bone as he nuzzled into her neck. “My wife will do just fine.”

As the men played, Reed bought the trio more drinks, explaining the rules to her, and Dulce easily caught on. Mostly she knew when Reed was bluffing because she could see his hand, but the other players had their own tricks too.

Once they completed their fifth round, Reed winning four hands, he asked, “Have any of you ever heard of La Bisou Morte, a witch who works for the Duke? I was told she might live here. My new wife has an ailment we’re hoping to find a cure for while on our honeymoon.”

“I have these dreadful headaches. Ever since I was a child,” Dulce murmured, forcing her voice to sound somber as she pressed her fingers to her temple.

“I suggest finding another witch to help with that,” the bearded man said, grabbing a card from the top of the pile to add to his hand.

“That witch’s bargains aren’t worth it,” the second older man grumbled. “She’ll ask for ten years of your life or something far worse in exchange.”

Dulce cradled her cheek. “Oh, dear…”

“But she can cure my wife?” Reed pressed. “I would do anything to ease her suffering.”

The horned creature lifted his stein, scowling at the loving couple. “Even if her price doesn’t alter your decision, La Bisou Morte doesn’t stay in Alder Bay.”

“I was hoping not to hear such news.” Dulce sighed.

The bearded man clucked his tongue. “If you want to find her, you’d have to get the answer from the Duke himself.”

This was met with uproarious laughter, and Reed tossed his cards down, winning another hand.

The horned creature met Dulce’s gaze. “Fair warning, the Duke’s bargains are worse than his witch’s.”