Page 15 of Ruby & Onyx

“Green, please,” I tell him awkwardly. Not that I know the difference.

“How about some chocolate? Bread? Croissants?” I shake my head, far too nervous to eat.

Lady Lora smiles softly. She has a kindness in her that’s more sincere than her counterpart. It’s baked into the cluster of wrinkles formed around her mouth and the depths of her hazel eyes.

Lord Myles focuses his attention on me, and my blood turns cold. “Radya, you know that we do our best to make sure that you are well taken care of, right?”

Excuse me? What is he implying? “Not to be rude, but I wasn’t aware that you were taking care of me at all.” What have they done to make sure that I’m well taken care of? The few times that we see each other are cordial at best. Uncomfortable, actually.

“Your home is still in good shape, yes? And your allowance still gets delivered on time each month?” His smarmy grin makes me shift in my seat, and the leather groans at the movement.

Of all the ways I imagined this conversation going, this certainly was not it.

“Well, yes.” The back of my neck is starting to feel unbearably hot. “I’m very fortunate to receive a pension.”

But he didn’t say pension. He said allowance. Did I mishear him?

“I have seen your work in the markets. It’s quite good, but I imagine that doesn’t bring in enough to live. The allowance supplements that income. Seems like decent care to me.” He forces a shrug and then narrows his eyes on me. “Did you think that this money came by mistake?”

Yes, that’s exactly what I thought. I feared the money would dry up any day now, even though I prayed and prayed that it wouldn’t. Never in a million years did I imagine that it was their intention to care for me, as he put it.

“If it’s not a mistake, then why? Why send me money?” I swallow the lump forming in my throat as I spit out the words. So many in this village deserve it more than me. Marco, for starters. Why me?

The servant sneaks up behind me and places a tray of sweets on the table before handing me a cup of tea. The polished silver is so clear that I can see my own face reflected back to me in miniature form between each of the confections. Donuts, flaky pastry puffs, and purple tea cakes are arranged in little circles. How in the name of the gods did he retrieve all of this so fast? “Can I get you anything else, miss?”

“No, thank you.” I slowly, shakily, raise the cup to my lips but halt as I’m hit by the billowing steam.

“Is it too hot, dear?” Lady Lora asks after seeing me flinch.

“Just a little.” I place the cup back onto the saucer, too afraid to try again, lest the tea burn my tongue. “Respectfully, may I repeat my last question?”

“Which question?” She is all smiles and charm, but I fear that it’s edged with deceit. What game is she playing?

“I asked about the allowance,” I remind them, a tad harshly. “Why did you say that you cared for me? Why do you still send me money when you clearly know that the time for my father’s pension expired long ago?”

“Call it a favor to your parents.” Lady Lora’s smile is now stretched so wide that I think her cheeks must hurt. “I hear that you visit the library quite often. Do you enjoy reading?”

“A favor to my parents? My father only worked here for a very short period before he died. Do you send allowances to all of your employees’ families?” But of course, I already know that they don’t. None of this adds up.

“Not all, no, but your father was special to us.” Lord Myles drops his smile, replacing it with a cold, humorless stare. It’s getting too tense in here, too hot and uncomfortable.

“He was. Your mother too. We were so heartbroken when they passed,” says Lady Lora, reaching over to grab her husband’s hand.

The time for condolences is long past. If they were so heartbroken, then why didn’t they speak to me after it happened? Why bring it up now? She ignores my seething and continues, “If you do enjoy reading, then I’d love to show you our private collection.”

“I must excuse myself while you two ladies speak.” Lord Myles stands from his seat, adjusting the dusty red trousers over his protruding belly. He seems anxious to leave as he nods to me and then to his wife before scurrying away.

I came here to warn him of the threat on the other side of the barrier, and now he’s leaving me to drink tea with his wife? What is going on?

Undeterred, Lady Lora continues on with the deflective line of questioning, “What type of books do you like to read?”

My cheeks turn pink as heat rushes to my face. In truth, my preferred books skew toward the smuttier genres, but that seems too inappropriate to confess to the Lady of Carcera. “Anything I can get my hands on.” The choice of words makes me squirm even more.

“Well, feel free to explore our personal collection. I will let the guard know that you may enter at any time and take as many books as you’d like. We really do have a bit of everything. I’d be happy to show you myself if you’d like to go see it now?” She grabs the tray of sweets and extends it toward me, insisting that I take something.

“No, thank you.” Something is wrong here, very wrong. Why is she talking about reading and libraries? She’s far too calm and collected for someone who just learned about a potential threat lurking outside of the barrier. They must know more than they’re letting on. They hardly even flinched when I told them about the prowlers. If anything, their misdirection increases my interest in finding the truth about the prowlers and the pension. I say, “I’ve lived by the edge of the forest for two decades. Not once have I seen people on the other side. And now… I’ve had two separate encounters with a total of four men – one of which was swallowed whole by the barrier. Why are they appearing now?”

My refusal to talk about simple subjects seems to annoy her. She folds her hands in her lap and says, “I wish that I had an answer for you, but I can only speculate. Carcera is situated at the edge of the kingdom, less than a day’s walk to Umbra, even shorter by carriage. It’s possible that Umbra’s king, King Caelis, sent scouts on a reconnaissance mission of sorts. It is equally possible that these men are simply thieves who wandered too far. We won’t know more until we capture them.”

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