The Confectioner Chronicles Box Set

by Claire Luana

  Hale stood, walking towards her, his body drawn to hers like a magnet. “But you do care.” He tilted her chin up gently, forcing her to meet his eyes. Hers were angry. “You came to see me, didn’t you?” Hale said. “You said my room was empty. You’d only know that if you’d come looking.” Hale mentally kicked himself, his elation dimming. He felt like a colossal ass. Sable had come to him and he hadn’t been there!

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said, tearing her chin from his grip. “It was a mistake.”

  “Sable.” He rested his hands gently on her shoulders, reveling in the feel of her skin beneath his fingers. “Do you know why I joined the Confectioner’s Guild?”

  She looked back at him, cocking her head.

  “For you. I saw you and I thought you were the most beautiful creature I had ever laid eyes on. I joined this Guild thinking I would woo you and have you.”

  Sable rolled her eyes at that, but he pushed on. “I was a stupid kid. In a matter of weeks I learned that it could never be. Because I didn’t just want you, I loved you.” He pushed a tendril of hair out of her eyes. “You made me the man I am. Every woman I’ve been with, every night partying, it was all to distract myself from what I really wanted. You. But then I almost lost you…” He took a deep breath. “And I knew it was all over. No more pretending. No more other women. There’s no one but you. Ever again.”

  “We can’t,” Sable whispered, but her body moved against his and he kissed her, this time slow and languidly. He would take his time. Get to know every sweet inch of her—

  Sable broke their kiss, pushing against him. “This can’t work.” She sighed, leaning her forehead against his chest.

  “Leave with me,” Hale said, a thought that had been swirling about the back of his mind crystalizing into form.

  “Hale,” Sable said crossly, donning again the cloak of grandmaster.

  “I mean it,” he said. “There’s only one way this siege will end. Aprica’s forces are too strong. King Evander knows about the Gifted, I’m certain of it. We won’t be safe here as soon as the walls fall.”

  She recoiled slightly. “Where is this coming from?”

  Hale knew he should tell her about Wren’s and his conversation with Daemastra and Marius, but he had just calmed her down. Now was not the time. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” he said instead. “We aren’t Alesian. We don’t need to die here. You are home to me, Sable. Wherever you are. Let’s find someplace new, someplace safe, and make a life together.”

  “But what about the Guild?” Sable asked. “Everything we’ve worked for. Wren, Callidus, Thom…we can’t just abandon them.”

  “Bring them then!” Hale said. “I don’t care. We’ll start a new Guild. All I care about is you and me finding someplace we can be safe. Together.”

  Sable paced away from him, quiet for a moment. She turned with a shake of her head. “I know you mean well, and in some ways, it sounds amazing. But I’ve worked too hard building a life here. I’m not just going to abandon it. I don’t think I can do it all over again.”

  “You can, Sable,” Hale pleaded. “We can. Together.”

  She held up a hand. “Please, Hale,” she said quietly. “I said no. Now please, can we just cook?”

  Hale’s shoulders sagged, but he nodded. “Of course.”

  Wren poked her head into the kitchen where Sable and Hale were cooking. Hale was washing dishes while Sable put a batch of ganache in the ice box. The mood in the room was strangely subdued. Perhaps Sable hadn’t completely gotten over her anger about Wren and Hale visiting Dash Island. Wren was grateful they had decided not to share their capture by the Apricans. She couldn’t imagine the kind of lecture they would have gotten.

  “You have a minute?” Wren asked. “It’s about Thom.”

  “What is it?” Sable wiped her hands on her apron and untied the strings, taking it off and setting it on the counter.

  “Lucas had another idea about how to locate the Gifted. Wherever they are, they’re probably being guarded, either by the king’s own Black Guard or the Cedars. If the Steward’s office has shifted a number of guards to a building or area suddenly, it might point us to where they’re being kept.”

  Sable nodded thoughtfully. “It’s not a bad idea. The Steward’s Office, you say? Willings would be in charge of this?”

  “That’s what Lucas said.”

  “And can Lucas poke around for us?” Hale asked, drying his hands on a towel and leaning back against the counter.

  Wren grimaced. “Lucas isn’t too happy with me right now. I don’t think we can count on him.”

  “Trouble in paradise—” Hale began, but Sable silenced him with a look. “And I suppose you’d like to go poking your nose around Willings’s office, would you?” Sable asked. “What could go wrong?”

  Wren huffed. She had considered that but had rejected that idea as too dangerous. Yet it was the only thing she could think of. “I’m open to suggestions.”

  Sable stood. “I have a contact in the Cedar Guards’ office. Let me do some digging. We’ll try this my way, yes?” She looked first at Wren, then at Hale. They both nodded solemnly.

  Chapter 24

  Wren was surprised to find Sable at her door that evening, her dark hair plaited in a fishtail braid over one shoulder. Wren had been pacing her room, watching dusk fall over Maradis from her window.

  “I’ve got a lead,” Sable said. “Grab your cloak. Let’s go.”

  Wren did as she was told, hurrying to her wardrobe and then out into the hallway. Sable was already striding towards the stairs, and Wren had to jog to catch up with her.

  The night was cool, with low-hanging clouds threatening rain above them. Leaves crunched under their feet, a kaleidoscope of reds and oranges. It took Wren a moment to work up the nerve to talk to Sable. The air between them was still charged; she felt as unsettled around her sponsor as she had when she’d first joined the Guild. “Why’d you want me to come?” Wren asked.

  “With all that’s been going on, I’ve been lax in your training,” Sable replied.

  “I’m as good a confectioner as any of you,” Wren said, trying not to let the hurt show in her voice. If there was one thing she thought she had figured out, it was that.

  “Not that training,” Sable said, glancing sideways at Wren. “Being a master in our Guild is much more than making chocolate. In fact, that’s probably the least important part of it. You need to start understanding the different personalities of the Guilds and the crown, making connections of your own. You can’t solve all your problems by picking a lock.”

  Wren considered. That did make sense, but she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to network the way Sable and Hale did. She said as much.

  “You have a keen mind, so think of it like a puzzle. Each piece of information, each relationship, fills in the picture. It will take years to cultivate. Years until you see the whole image. But you have to start somewhere.”

  “All right,” Wren said halfheartedly.

  “It’s harder for us, Wren,” Sable said quietly. “Than for Hale or Callidus. Men either don’t take us seriously or want to sleep with us—or both. When you find one who doesn’t fall in either of those camps, you know you’ve found an ally. Hang on to him like a dog with a bone.”

  Wren followed Sable across the street and into a cheerful pub with a sign declaring it The Braxton Cross. Inside, respectable-looking patrons chatted on high stools, sipping pints of cider and ale. Two men in waistcoats threw darts at a board in the corner.

  Sable had apparently spotted her contact because she weaved among the tables until they reached a little table against the far wall. A gray-haired mustached Cedar Guardsman sat at the table, a mostly-empty glass before him. “Sable!” he said, standing to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Looking as lovely as ever.”

  “You flatterer,” Sable murmured. “Franz, this is Wren, an artisan of mine.”

  Franz gave Wren’s offered hand an enthusiastic sha
ke. “It’s nice to meet you, Wren. Please, sit down.”

  Wren and Sable slid into the two empty chairs. “You said you found something?” Sable asked demurely.

  “Straight to the point, aren’t you? Well, that’s fine. Mollie should have dinner ready at home; I should be going.” Franz slid a piece of paper across the table to Sable and drained what was left of his ale. “You’re not going to cause any trouble with this, are you now?”

  Sable laughed, her hand covering the paper. “Don’t you worry about me. The king has plenty to keep him busy just over the wall. We’re just trying to find a friend.”

  Franz nodded, standing. “I told Mollie I was seeing you, and she insisted you stop by the house soon. She’s still going on about that peanut brittle recipe you gave her. She’s the talk of her knitting circle.”

  “Tell her I’ll be by as soon as I’m able,” Sable said warmly. “And your ale’s on us.”

  Franz nodded to them both. “Always a pleasure. Wren, nice to meet you.”

  Wren watched him navigate through the bar stools and push into the night. She didn’t know what she had expected from one of Sable’s contacts, but…it wasn’t that.

  “How do you know him?” Wren turned to Sable in amazement. “He’s like…an adorable grandfather.”

  Sable cocked her head, a fond expression on her face. “I met his wife, Mollie, at a bake sale to raise money for the Maradis Hospital. We hit it off. They’re good people.”

  Wren shook her head. Every time she saw a new side of Sable, it only deepened her respect for the woman. No wonder Hale was in love with her. Wren thought she might be half in love with her too. Sable was like a confectionery goddess.

  Sable unfolded the paper and read it, one of her perfect eyebrows raising in an arch. “Interesting.” She folded it again and pushed it across the table to Wren.

  “Do you know of the Sower’s Orphanage in the Industrial Quarter?”

  “Yes,” Wren managed, her voice flat. “I thought it was closed.”

  “It is closed. As far as I know, it has been for at least two years,” Sable said.

  “So what about it?”

  “This says that there’s over a thousand gold crowns going to the orphanage this month. Food, supplies, weapons…it’s all been requisitioned.”

  “Weapons?” Wren said, surveying the page herself. “Even if the king had reopened the orphanage, he wouldn’t need weapons.”

  “I think we found where Thom and the other Guild members are being kept,” Sable said, her dark eyes gleaming.

  Wren closed her eyes, trying in vain to shove down the flood of anger and fear that surfaced at the mention of the orphanage. Why was life bringing her back to this place? She thought of Brother Brax, who she had crossed paths with at the palace. Was it possible he was helping the king? Running the orphanage once again? But this time, with a different type of captive within those foreboding walls?

  “Wren?” Sable asked.

  Wren opened her eyes, letting out a shaky breath. She had a sudden urge to tell Sable everything. As she looked into the woman’s dark eyes, her fearless expression, Wren knew she would understand. And gods, she needed to tell someone.

  “I know the place. I was an orphan there for a short time,” Wren admitted.

  “That could be helpful if Thom and the others are actually being kept there. Why don’t you seem happy?”

  “The orphanage was…a front,” Wren managed. “For child slavery. I ran. I think the man who was running it may be involved in this.”

  Sable’s face darkened. “Then we have two things to make them pay for.”

  Wren nodded.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Sable asked softly. “What happened there?”

  “Not really,” Wren admitted. “I was one of the lucky ones. I escaped.”

  “It’s unforgivable,” Sable said, “what King Imbris does to children in his care. But mark my words—someday he will be called to account for his crimes. If not in this life, then the next.”

  “I hope it’s this life,” Wren admitted, embarrassed by the vengeful spirit within her.

  “Me too,” Sable said.

  They sat for a moment in silence. “

  We need to know for sure whether Thom and the others are being kept there,” Sable finally said. “We need to be sure before we can plan our next move.”

  “I’ll go,” Wren said. “I know the area.”

  “I wouldn’t ask that of you,” Sable said.

  “I can do it. I want to.” Wren raised her chin. She needed to face these ghosts. To face her fear.

  “You shouldn’t go alone. But I don’t want to send Hale. I just tore him a new one for sneaking around with you. I need it to settle in.” She tapped her lip with a polished finger in contemplation. “What about Lennon? I’m not one for sneaking.”

  “Lennon?” Wren asked. “He doesn’t know about the Gifted…”

  “But he knows Thom was taken. He was there. He’s been wanting to ingratiate himself with Callidus and me for months.” Sable nodded, decided. “And while you’re at it, see what you can find out about what Beckett has been up to. I have a bad feeling about him.”

  Wren shrugged her shoulders. She didn’t mind letting Sable make the decisions for a while. It was exhausting any other way. “Lennon it is.”

  Wren and Lennon wove their way south through the streets towards the Industrial Quarter. Lennon had jumped at the chance to avoid his grandmaster and accompany Wren.

  “So you think Thom is being held at this abandoned orphanage?” Lennon asked.

  “We aren’t sure,” Wren replied, shivering against the breeze. The sky sat heavy and low with gray clouds above them, the wind swirling dry leaves around their feet. “But we got a tip.” Wren had to tread carefully when it came to the subject of the Gifted, as Lennon wasn’t in on the secret. She had shared an abbreviated version of the truth, explaining their theory that the king was behind the kidnappings, to give him extra leverage over the Guilds.

  “I hope we find him,” Lennon said. “Between the Apricans attacking the wall and Guild members being snatched off the street, I feel like I hardly recognize Maradis anymore.”

  “I know. Was there another attack?” She hadn’t heard the bell. But she had taken the nap of all naps that afternoon, exhausted from the past few days’ excitement.

  Lennon nodded. “Skirmish in the south near the Central Quarter today. Beckett says the Apricans are testing our defenses. That area is so poor, Beckett says the king should be more worried about betrayal from the inside than the Apricans overpowering our walls.” Wren had been fretting about how to get Lennon to spill about his grandmaster, but it seemed it wouldn’t take much effort at all.

  “He thinks someone would betray Maradis?” Wren thought of Sim Daemastra’s request that she and Hale spy for him. Surely, if he had asked them, he would be making the same offers to others.

  “Aprican gold will start to look pretty good after a few months of siege. Or hell, even food. If people get desperate, it will get ugly.”

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Wren said, though she wasn’t sure how it wouldn’t. A quick end to the siege, or a long end…was there any end where the Apricans simply went home and left them in peace?

  “I wonder if we can defeat them,” she murmured.

  “I don’t know,” Lennon said. “If we’re smart…and lucky. Maybe we can outlast them. Beckett says we all need to be working together. The Guilds giving their full allegiance to the king.” His face was weary.

  “He’s pretty unhappy with Callidus, isn’t he?” Wren asked.

  Lennon nodded. “I’ve never seen him so up in arms. You tell Callidus to find a way to placate him, or there’s no telling what he might do.”

  “Beckett should be giving Callidus his full allegiance,” Wren said crossly, feeling strangely protective of her guildmaster. “Callidus is afraid if we give in now, the Guild will lose its autonomy forever. I think he’s right.
”

  “I see his point. But autonomy won’t matter much if we’re all dead,” Lennon said glumly.

  They fell into uneasy silence. Their destination was near. The orphanage sat on the border between the Port and Industrial Quarters, an area composed mostly of brick office buildings and warehouses.

  Wren’s thoughts turned from the Apricans to the past. What were the odds that her life would have come full circle? Back to Brax and the orphanage, a person and a place she’d sworn to leave behind forever. If Wren believed in such things, she might have thought it a bad omen. Proof that no matter how hard you try, you can never escape your past.

  They turned onto the broad avenue that would pass the orphanage’s gates. Wren and Lennon walked by slowly, heads down against the breeze. The courtyard inside the locked wrought-iron gate appeared deserted.

  “There’re several inner courtyards,” Wren said without looking up. “You can’t see them from the outside.”

  The street was mostly deserted, but for a burly man unloading a wagon into the open door of a warehouse across the street. But then two Cedar Guardsmen rounded the corner from the narrow alley behind the orphanage, turning onto the main street.

  Lennon tipped his hat to them as they passed, but neither man smiled. One actually put his hand on his sword hilt.

  “Odd location to be patrolling,” Lennon noted.

  “Keep walking,” Wren said, and they passed the alley and continued to the next block. She pulled Lennon around the next corner, past a tall, sad-looking brick building that read “Excelsior Textiles” in faded white letters.

  “How do we get inside?” Lennon asked.

  “We don’t,” Wren said. “We just need to see inside.”

  “What do you propose?”

  Wren pointed up. “This building is at least two stories higher than the orphanage. If we can get inside, or even on the roof, we might be able to see in.”

  “I’m game,” Lennon said, an excited grin flashing across his face.

  The rusty padlock chaining the doors shut didn’t give easily. It took Wren a good ten minutes of sweating and cursing, jimmying Lennon’s pocketknife every which way, before it finally fell open. She stood with a groan, brushing off the gravel that had imprinted on her knees. “Ladies first.” Lennon gave a little bow.