Page 33 of The Ragpicker King
Jerrod watches through weary eyes as the little man scuttles out the door. He hasn’t been one of the Ragpicker King’s usual informants, but he brought the news that the well-known privateer Laurent Aden is holed up in a sea cave along the coast. This is, in Jerrod’s estimation, a mildly interesting piece of information. Not urgent, but something Andreyen would want to know, if he didn’t already. The Ragpicker King has worked with Aden in the past and, for all Jerrod knows, might find him useful in the present.
Jerrod likes to be here, at his usual booth in the Yu-Shuang Noodle House, for four hours every Sunsday afternoon. He never knows exactly who might show up, but the Ragpicker King pays well for information that doesn’t waste his time. Gathering these reports and judging their usefulness always fell to Jerrod. Ji-An just frightened everyone away, and Merren was too interested in individual stories and would keep informants talking for hours. Jerrodsmiles slightly, thinking of Merren, then starts in surprise when someone slides unexpectedly into the booth across from him.
Jerrod hates being surprised. Merren is bad for his concentration.
“Jerrod,” says the newcomer. “It’s been a while.”
Jerrod gazes narrowly at the large, pockmarked man across from him, and his heart sinks a little. He knows what this means. “Kaspar,” he says. “I thought perhaps you’d left town since you stabbed the Prince’s cousin.”
Kaspar is clearly not amused. “I cooled my heels in Jahan for a while, but I’m back now.” He slides a piece of crumpled paper across the table. “A message for you.”
Jerrod unfolds the paper. He recognizes the cramped printing, the handwriting of someone clearly trying to disguise their penmanship.I may need you soon. Be ready, and tell Maeva, Bron, and the others to be ready, too.It is signed, below, in printed capitals:PROSPER BECK.
CHAPTER SIX
Lin was already in a bad mood.
The moment the carriage Antonetta had sent for her had swept up to the front of House Alleyne, it had been surrounded by torch-bearing footmen, all in rose and gold. They had been so eager to help her out of the carriage and light her way to the party that she had become flustered and left Mariam’s shawl behind, doubtless shoved halfway down the back of the carriage seat.
She hadn’t even noticed until she’d entered the ballroom and seen the eyes of the nobles thronging the place turn toward her. Their gazes were half hunger, half consideration, like the stares of vultures wondering if a bit of carrion was dead enough to eat.
She recognized only a few among them—Joss Falconet, sharp-featured and handsome, was in conversation with Lupin Montfaucon and a young woman in a purple dress. Montfaucon looked vexed. Lady Alleyne, Antonetta’s mother, was laughing with a thick-necked man wearing a gaudy pendant on a chain. Lin narrowed her eyes; that pendant was very interesting. Very interesting indeed, but at that moment, the man turned away, and she could no longer glimpse it.
Meanwhile, there were three people that Lin didnotsee. The Prince. Kel. And, most surprisingly, Antonetta.
It was Antonetta who had asked her to come, Lin thought, so the first reasonable thing to do would be to find her. She put her chin in the air and strode through the ballroom, aware at every moment that most of her back was bared to view.
She was halfway across the room when she saw Kel, leaning against a raised wooden stage. On the stage were Merren, Ji-An, and Jerrod, awkwardly clutching musical instruments. Lin had just stopped to stare—she couldn’t help it—when she heard her name hissed in a low voice.
“Lin.Lin.It’s me.”
She turned, searching the crowd. Nobody she knew seemed within earshot. Joss Falconet, his black eyes gleaming, winked at her, but he was too far away, and besides, the voice had been female.
“Lin.Behind the curtain.”
Lin whirled. “Antonetta?” Behind her, a heavy ivory curtain against the wall rustled as if in a stiff wind. Lin gave a quick glance around to see if anyone was watching before ducking behind it.
She felt faintly ridiculous, but there was more room behind the curtain than she would have guessed. It hung stiffly away from the wall, creating a narrow tunnel between the heavy fabric and the patterned silk wallpaper. Halfway through the tunnel was Antonetta, her back to the wall. She wore a dress of a deep rose silk, so close-fitted that it made Lin feel positively modest by comparison. A net of diamonds held back her hair, and around her throat was a choker of rubies, dripping gold chains that connected to a gold belt around her waist, effectively enclosing her upper body in a sort of glittering cage.
“What are youdoing?” Lin whispered, edging nearer. She was positive their slippers must be visible under the hem of the curtain. “This is your engagement party!”
“Well, I don’t want to be at it,” Antonetta said rebelliously. “Ihate him, Lin.” Lin didn’t have to ask who she meant. “Gremont’s horrible. He smacked Magali—she’s off somewhere crying—he flirts with my mother, and he kicked Puggles.”
“Puggles?”
“The stable cat at Marivent.” Antonetta shook her head, making the diamonds in her hair glint like raindrops.
“Still, you can’t hide here all night,” Lin pointed out.
“I know. My mother’s already searching for me. Pecking about like a bird looking for a delicious bug.” Antonetta looked gloomy. “If I have to marry Gremont, I have to marry him. But it’s too much to expect me to put on thisshowof being happy about it. In front of—in front of everybody.”
Everybody?Lin wondered. She was fairly sure Antonetta had been about to say a specific name before she’d caught herself.
“He talks to me as though I were a child,” Antonetta went on. “And the way he looks at me—ugh!” She shuddered. “He brought this necklace for me from Taprobana. Insisted I wear it. I think it looks like a slit throat, don’t you?”
“I think,” said Lin, “that if you don’t want to marry him, you have to tell your mother now.”
Antonetta exhaled. “She won’t change her mind. He’s already promised that he’ll give her at least a dozen of his tea plantations to turn over to silk production. It will mean thousands of extra crowns in the coffers of the silk Charter. I can’t imagine what anyone else could offer that would compare.”
