Page 19 of The Ballad of a Bard

To make the onlooking crowd feel as though they were thoroughly entertained, she remembered Grimm telling her as he handed her her pay from the last time.

She could do it.

She could keep them on their toes for long enough. Fifteen minutes with each opponent, only to end them and claim herprize before changing into her apron and taking up the second portion of the gorey evening. With hope, a dangerous thing, she estimated to make around thirty crowns for the entire evening.

Ifshe could hold them off for fifteen minutes.

Crimson shoved her fighting leathers into her satchel and flipped the flap over, hiding the eye-catching colour from all she would pass in order to reach the Bronzed Goblet. Red Lyric’s attire was a staple piece of his identity. As were the daggers he fought with. Everyone knew those blades far and wide, no matter which level of the city they lived in.

She strode out of the second room and checked Cobalt’s head. His fever seemed to have gone down, even if just slightly. A good sign. He stirred under her cool fingers and curled up into the wool blanket overtop of him. His tiny knees tucked into his chest and she adjusted the single pillow under his stygian head.

One, because that was all they could afford.

What she wouldn’t give for a soft, pliable cushion, stuffed to infinity and back with the most comfortable goose feathers. Even if for a night. But Cobalt came first, so he got the pillow. In the rougher nights, when she tossed and turned and was unable to find sleep peacefully, she often folded one of the extra blankets and tucked that under her head as a replacement. It wasn’t terrible but it wasn’t good, either.

“I’ll be back, okay Cobalt?” Crimson pushed a loose strand behind his curved ear. “Then, if you’re showing signs of progress when I return, I’ll buy you those ginger sweets you like so much.”

He seemed to perk up at that, facing her. She almost laughed at his immediate desire for the tangy candy.

“The ones with the sugary bits in the center?” His tone was raspy, hoarse and yet she picked out the childlike glee in it regardless.

“Yup.” She wiggled her crimson eyebrows at him. “As many as you like.”

“That’s a dangerous proposition.” Cobalt laughed softly, which turned into a hacking cough that had him doubling over. She hid her worry as she reached for the hyssop syrup and silently beckoned for him to open his mouth. He obeyed and she gave him three drops of the healing tincture before screwing the lid back on.

“Try not to exert yourself too much while I’m gone, alright?” Crimson bit her lip, studying his face as if it would be the last time she’d ever see it full of life.

If that’s what it could be called.

It was one of the risks of her working, even if they couldn’t afford to have neither one of them earning wages of some sort. Someone had to pay for their living, and it most certainly wasn’t going to be him in his condition. But to leave him like this, to wonder every time she did it if she would ever see him alive again, it was a terrible weight to bear. She hated leaving every time, but it wasn’t a choice.

Crimson stood from the bed and handed him one more blanket before striding out and locking their apartment door. She ran into a couple of the other tenants, waving to them slyly before ducking down the stairs of the second level and finding the main room.

But she halted before exiting the building.

Because there was a tall figure behind the counter this time, which was unusual. She didn’t recognize him either, which meant that he could have been a new addition, had all the rooms not been full. Which left her pondering over his unfamiliar presence.

“Hello?” She timidly approached the lean male who was messing with something along the rows of keys behind the glass door that was never unlocked. He turned and she almost fell back as she took in the starry eyes.

Her heart stumbled too.

“I know you.” Westley Saint charmingly smiled at her. “You’re the girl from the Pits. You sold us nuts,andale.”

“I did.” Her pulse was a raging storm that showed no sign of letting up any time soon. Was he here for her? Did he find out that Red Lyric was none other than herself? What did he want with her? What did thePrincewant with her?

She was spiralling.

Her mind scolded herself, urging it to stop before it ultimately gave her away. Three breaths in, three breaths out.

“You’re… Crimson, correct?” He glanced down at an opened book on the wooden railing behind him as if to confirm his guess. “I’ve never actually introduced myself to any of my tenants.”

“Youown the Spinning Compass?” She blurted out before she could stop herself. “But you’re theCaptainof the Watch!”

Westley didn’t question how she knew that.

“I am. Hence why I’m never around.” He lightly chuckled and locked the glass door as he slid it back into place, sealing off the extra keys to the rooms. “The Watch keeps me occupied enough, but there are things I have to take care of around here as well.”

Crimson clutched her bag even tighter now, as if the contents would miraculously spill in front of him and her secret could be revealed. Just like Grimm pushed the stakes of competing in the Blades, he always increased the punishment for any rulebreakers. She could only imagine how he’d react to finding a female in his ranks. It seemed the savage Saint only enjoyed one sort of repercussion, one that no one but a Saint could come back from.

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