So, I swallowed my bitter retort and, instead, said, “I’m sorry to hear that. I will do my best not to do anything that might... bother you.”
Her right eye twitched. “That’s right smart of yeh, ‘cause I can make yehr life hell, if I want to.”
“I’m sure you could,” I said, my pride tied up in a burning ball in the center of my chest. It was very hard not to give her a piece of my mind.
Skender joined us, leaving me walking between the two of them.
Vinna glanced back, her green eyes searching for me. When she spotted me, she frowned and nudged Alben, who also seemed displeased with my situation. They casually slowed their pace.
“You don’t stand a chance against me. I can’t wait to crush you,” Skender said.
My heart sped up, drumming against my ribs, a clear sign that I didn’t disagree with the brutish Challenger. He was built like a boulder, squat and compact. He could crush me like a street rat under the wheel of a carriage. I inhaled deeply, trying to quiet my traitorous heart. I hadn’t come here to lose. I’d come here because of a bully like him.
Still, I measured my words. “And, perhaps, you will crush me.”
“Or maybe I’ll pardon you, if you’re a good girl,” he said with a glint in his little eyes.
So he was offering me a bribe to keep my mouth shut about what I’d seen. Too bad I seemed to have a death wish.
“Breen! Skender!” Alben said in an enthusiastic tone, turning to face us. “Want to join us for a tall tankard of ale, mates?”
Breen huffed and gave Alben and Vinna a condescending once-over. With that as her only answer, she walked away from us, Skender quick at her heels.
“What was that about?” Vinna asked, looking at the bullies from beneath a furrowed brow.
“It was nothing,” I said, putting on a smile. “Just typical Skender, trying to intimidate me about the challenge.”
It was part of the truth, and they seemed to buy it.
After that, we made our way down the rest of the hill in silence, while I tried to focus on the only thing that mattered today: acquiring more bloodshade.
CHAPTER 11
We were required to wear our uniforms during our outing to the city, white cloak, sword, and all. At first, I found it strange and missed my wide dress and fan as I moved about the cobbled streets. In the past, I had enjoyed the furtive glances and happy smiles of passing gentlemen as Talyssa and I walked arm-in-arm, while shopping or calling on friends.
Not surprisingly, the court uniform produced an entirely different reaction. No one looked at us, and people even crossed the street to avoid us.
“How rude,” I said, as a middle-aged couple turned back the way they’d come when they saw Vinna, Alben, and me approaching.
Vinna shrugged. “Yeh get used to it.”
“It’s not like we’ve tasted Queen Lovina’s blood,” I said.
Everybody knew Pawns and Challengers remained entirely human. Though maybe they suspected something went on: a demonic ceremony, perhaps. Gods knew I’d imagined similar things before I joined. But surprisingly, my life inside the palace grounds had been nothing like I’d imagined.
We crossed the street. On the next corner, a white post indicated we were about to enter one of the city squares controlled by Queen Lovina. As we stepped out of the black square we’d been traversing, I breathed a sigh of relief. It was stupid. Unless there was trouble, there was little difference between being on white square or a black one. Still, I couldn’t help but loathe anything that belonged to the Black King.
We passed a Sentry post where men and women in white uniforms saluted us by extending their hands toward the ground. It felt strange since I was not even a member of the White Board. They were surely better trained than me and would have better chances at becoming Pawns, but few were as foolish and desperate as I was. Signing your life away to a vampire was as good as making an appointment with death.
Shops—a tailor, a toy store, a furrier, a shoemaker, a milliner, and others—lined the street. The sight of them sent a pang of nostalgia through me. I’d visited most of these establishments in the past, accompanied by Papa or Talyssa. I sighed and pushed the feeling away.
My initial displeasure at wearing the uniform quickly turned to relief when I caught sight of Regina Preendale, my archenemy. She was Archibald Preendale’s daughter, a vapid, empty-headed seventeen-year-old girl who gave the rest of the female population a bad name with her actions.
She attended every ball in Acedrex, and invariably managed to get the attention of most eligible men present. Mistakenly, she always assumed it was because of her charms, though the size of her dowry was the real prize.
Regina and her lady-help—her arms loaded with several hat boxes—had just exited Jane Golding’s Millinery and turned in our direction. I started and began to hide my face, but at that point, doing so would only have called attention to myself. So instead, I straightened and kept walking.
To my relief, Regina didn’t recognize me. Her perpetually wide green eyes rolled off me as if I were nothing but an old piece of furniture, and she went past without a second glance.
I breathed a sigh of relief. The gods only knew what rumors or truths were flying around in our social circles about what had happened at Flagfall House. Did they think I was dead, too? If they did, I surely wanted it to remain that way for now.
“I’m sure she needed every one of those hats,” Vinna said bitterly.
Embarrassed, I thought of all the hats I had possessed, and all the others I had wished to be able to purchase. Now, the sight of the millinery’s colorful window displays only filled me with sadness. It had only been three weeks, but that life seemed to be a million years away now. I had calluses on my hands from holding the sword and mucking out horse excrement, and my brown hair was turning lighter as the sun bleached its rich color. I had even started to enjoy the comfort of my boots as opposed to the toe-pinching agony of women’s shoes. Who would have thought?
“First stop, The Bad Bishop,” Alben announced, immediately crossing the street toward that popular tavern.
I had never been in such a place, even though I’d always wanted to see inside. Ladies didn’t frequent those types of establishments, but Challengers and Pawns... that was another matter.
I checked with Vinna, who simply shrugged, as was her habit, and followed after Alben. “I could use a tankard myself.”
We entered the tavern, and I was surprised to find it so full at this hour. It was barely five in the afternoon, and almost every table was occupied.
“Great, Blackies,” Vinna said, her mouth twisting in displeasure. Still, she pressed forward, following Alben toward the only empty table.
I stiffened at the sight of all the black uniforms. It seemed King Maximus’s Pawns also had the day off. I stuck close to Vinna, telling myself there was no reason to be nervous. These Pawns didn’t know me, and even if they did, they probably wouldn’t recognize me. Regina hadn’t, and she was a hawk, able to spot her targets from across a crowded ballroom without fail.
Once seated, a boy of about thirteen took our orders and quickly returned with three frothing tankards. I stared at my drink distrustfully. I had never drunk more than a few sips of wine and had found its intoxicating properties disconcerting. Talyssa, on the other, loved wine and always complained I had control issues, which didn’t allow me to fully enjoy myself.
“There’s that look again,” Vinna said, pointing at me.
“Missing someone, little lady,” Alben asked.
“I guess,” I said, picking up my tankard and taking a sip. The ale was chilled and went down my throat smoothly, more easily than any wine ever had.
As I set the tankard down, I noticed that the intense gaze of one the Blackies was set on me. It took me a moment to recognize him, dressed, as he was, in the straight-lined uniform, but I finally recalled where I’d seen him before.
It was the tart thief.
Nyro.
I blinked, surprised that I still remembered his name.
We stared into each other’s eyes for a long time, while my mind twirled with questions. The thief was a Blackie? A Challenger like me, judging by the lack of insignia on his sleeve? No, that didn’t make sense. If he lived on King Maximus’s Palace grounds, he wouldn’t need to steal. We always had plenty of food, and I was sure it was the same at the Black Palace. So he must have joined recently, like me. Had he gotten tired of being a thief? Of going hungry?
His dark eyes were stern and unrelenting. I wanted to look away, but damn me if I was going to let him win. Stealing was wrong, and he could be mad at me all he wanted for calling the Sentries on him. I had done the right thing. As I stared, I couldn’t help but notice how different he looked in his uniform and tidy trimmed hair and beard. Gods, he was devilishly handsome!
“What now, Bianca?” Vinna asked, following my gaze. After spotting the object of my interest, she turned back, frowning. “You know that Blackie?”
“No,” I said, finally looking away and telling myself he hadn’t won. I’d just gotten tired of the stupid game.
“Costin’s dead,” Alben whispered, leaning closer, his eyes darting from side to side to make sure no one heard him.
“Poor devil,” Vinna said. “Can’t say I’m surprised, though. That was a stupid thing he did. Sorinna would’ve let him live, I’m sure. How did you find out, anyway?”
Alben tapped his nose. “Can’t reveal my sources, but Knight Ferko presented him to Queen Lovina. She made dinner outta him.”
A chill ran up my spine. If I didn’t become a Pawn, I could end up like Costin. It was one of the darkest clauses in the contract, one of the many I tended to ignore, pretending it didn’t exist. If you weren’t pardoned, you could end up as the Queen’s dinner, much worse than the alternative of dying at your opponent’s hand. But no matter.
I would soon become a Pawn, and a plan for my success was already taking shape in my mind.
First things first, though, if I intended to remain in the palace grounds for any length of time, I had to find a reliable supply of bloodshade.
CHAPTER 12
For the better part of an hour, I encouraged Vinna and Alben to drink their ale, while I took small sips of mine.
Vinna talked about her family, and how much she missed her sisters, her anecdotes about them getting more colorful the more she drank.
Alben seemed happy to simply listen as he enjoyed his tankard, barely paying attention to anything else.
When their faces had acquired an air of contentment and leisure, I stood and told them I needed to stretch my legs for a while. They weren’t instructed to keep me under supervision. I was allowed to go on my own if I wanted, but I didn’t want them to get suspicious about my errand.
I liked Vinna and Alben, but I couldn’t trust anyone with a secret like mine. The Queen and King paid large rewards to those who brought them Troves, and there was nothing more tempting to humans than the promise of riches.
I left the tavern fully aware of Nyro’s eyes on me as I walked out. Once outside, I strolled down the street, casting glances over my shoulder to make sure my friends had stayed behind.
After two blocks, I relaxed and turned in the direction of the White Market. I passed in front of Castling Park, where a few couples strolled easily down the path, one of them walking a squat bulldog on a leash. I smiled sadly at the sight, feeling so far removed from the type of life I once dreamed of.
The trees above rustled with a gentle breeze, and I closed my eyes, suddenly aware that I was alone under the darkening sky. I had never gone anywhere without Papa or Talyssa, much less in the evening. Maybe I should have been worried, but the sword at my waist, and the fact that I knew how to wield it, if only marginally, gave me comfort. Instead, I felt exhilarated. Being out and about when respectable ladies were supposed to be locked behind heavy doors was a type of freedom I’d never enjoyed. Was this how men felt all the time? Safe wherever they went?
Leaving my nostalgic reverie behind, I pressed forward. When I turned the corner on the street where the market usually set up every day, I found—to my utter disappointment and panic—that most vendors had already left. The few that remained sold no more than nonperishable goods such as pots and brooms, and even they were gathering their wares. The ones that sold herbs and teas were long gone. All the stores around the market also appeared closed, their window displays dark.
I cursed under my breath, a word Papa would have been scandalized to hear on my lips, but one that I heard often inside the palace grounds.
Pausing for a moment, I wondered what to do. I should have guessed the market would be closed this late. Instead, I had wasted all afternoon with Vinna and Alben.
As I stood there cursing my stupidity, I noticed movement inside one of the brick and mortar stores: the apothecary’s shop. My heart leapt with relief as I hurried across the street.
A bell rang above the door as I opened it. Mr. Oakes—a heavy-set man of about fifty, dressed in a black vest and shirtsleeves—stood behind a wooden counter, where he was transferring a white substance from a large container into smaller ones. He was intent on his work, just like all the other times I’d been here with Talyssa to purchase Papa’s headache powders.
“Good evening,” I said.
“Oh,” he said in surprise, watching me from above round spectacles. “I must have forgotten to affix the ‘closed’ sign.”
“Please, it won’t take but a moment. Um... I just...”
Now that I was here, doubt crept into my chest like a giant spider. Was this safe? What if telling this man what I needed landed me right on King Maximus’s lap, stealing my chance for revenge?
And yet... what other choice did I have?
“Um...” I took a step closer, lowering my voice. “I’m looking for bloodshade leaves.”
The apothecary set down the container he was holding and looked me up and down, his expression guarded.
“I’m... sorry, but I don’t carry that, ma’am,” he said, his tone sounding a lot like Papa’s when he lied.
I paused, my eyes darting over the dozens of bottles that sat on the shelves behind him, desperately trying to read each label, which was stupid because he wouldn’t have such a thing out in the open, just like he wouldn’t sell it to someone wearing a white uniform.
Where had Papa purchased my bloodshade? I wished he had told me.
Perhaps I was taking a great risk confiding in this man, but if I didn’t get any bloodshade today, my stint as a Challenger would come to an abrupt end anyway.
Tentatively, I walked closer to the counter.
“Mr. Oakes,” I said. “I’m Bianca Flagfall. Remember me? Papa, Martin Flagfall, used to purchase his medicine from you.”
His eyes widened, and he examined my face with more care. Finally, he spoke, his face going pale. “You poor girl. Everyone thinks you... that King Maximus...” he was unable to finish.
I clenched my teeth in a effort to keep back the tears that threatened to spill.
“But,” he regarded my uniform with undisguised distaste, “you’re with the White Queen.”
“I had no other choice,” I said. “King Maximus took everything from me. Papa, Talyssa who was like a sister to me, my fortune, everything. I did what I had to do.” I lifted my chin high.
Mr. Oakes nodded in understanding. His gray eyes were gentle, and something about the way he looked at me made me think he had daughters of his own, daughters he would protect with his life if it came to it.
“Would you help me, please?” I begged.
“I... really wish I could, Ms. Flagfall, but I’m afraid I don’t have what you’re looking for.”
I still thought he was lying, protecting himself, but how could I blame him? We all knew what the vampire monarchy was capable of. I had seen it firsthand. If he was discovered selling bloodshade, he would suffer Papa’s fate or possibly worse. The tears that had pooled in my eyes spilled onto my cheeks
as I lowered my head.
“I understand,” I said, turning to leave.
At the door, I dried my eyes, took a deep breath, and turned the knob.
“Wait!” Mr. Oakes said.
My heart froze. I slowly turned to face him, hope building in my chest. He examined my face carefully, as if considering one last time whether or not he could trust me.
“Don’t go anywhere,” he said as he turned and disappeared through a door in the back of his store.
I fidgeted on the spot until he returned a few minutes later. I searched his hands, but they were empty. I frowned. He gestured for me to move toward the corner furthest from the window.
I stood in front of him, the wide wooden counter between us. Quickly, he produced a pouch from his breast pocket and passed it across the counter.
“Put it away. Quickly.”
I did as instructed, stuffing the pouch through the buttons of my jacket.
My chest swelled with gratitude. “Thank you,” I said in a whisper.
“Don’t let anyone see you with it,” he adamantly instructed.
“I won’t.”
“It is foolish for you to remain with the White Queen. You should hide. Get as far away as possible from those monsters.”
That idea was a constant visitor in my mind, especially at night when I lay awake on my cot, recalling my evening conversations with Papa and Talyssa, the easy way we’d laughed together, and the peace we’d shared. But when I realized it had all been a lie, that the world we lived in was cruel, and the horrors I thought only happened to others were just a carriage ride away, I understood I couldn’t hide. Being at the palace gave me a worthy purpose. I had a goal. I would one day have my revenge. Fleeing would only leave me aimless.
“I can’t,” I said. “The contract binds me, now. They would kill me if I break it.”
This was something Mr. Oakes would understand: fear. My foolish idea of revenge, he would laugh at.
I took a few coins from my pocket and displayed them in my palm. “How much do I owe you?”
White Pawn Page 6
