Page 44 of The Sword and the Damsel
“Who’s this Lenore? Should I be jealous?” Alais teased.
Victor laughed. “Lenore is a fifty-year-old grandmother who’s missing her two front teeth. She’s my aunt’s chief seamstress.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her forehead. “It’s sweet, though, that you think there’s anyone you need to be jealous of.”
He put the cloth in a saddle bag and led her through the winding streets to a cobbler, then a furrier, then a milliner. Each one had run afoul of him at some point, avoiding taxes or cheating customers, and they all fell over themselves to provide Alais with their finest wares and keep him happy.
Last, he led her to a shop with an elaborate display of bottles of all shapes, sizes, and colors. “Ah, here we are. Esteban’s perfume shop is the best you’ll find outside of the Mediterranean. And he has other useful skills too.”
A tall, thin man with dark skin and a long, white beard stepped out of the shop. He was wearing a spotless white robe and had a scarf wrapped loosely around his head. His eyes lit up when he saw Victor, and they embraced like old friends,exchanging a few incomprehensible words in what she assumed must be Spanish. She watched Victor gesture toward her, and Esteban’s eyes went wide.
“Congratulations, my friend! My lady,” Esteban said in English, turning to her with a bow, “felicitations on your marriage. I wish you joy.” He turned back to Victor. “Come inside. Come inside. Let me take a look at that scar.”
Alais’s eyebrows raised at that. Few people dared refer to Victor’s scar, let alone ask to look at it. And here she’d thought she was here to buy perfume.
Esteban sat Victor on a low leather stool and lit a bright lantern. Then he removed Victor’s eye patch. Alais’s jaw dropped. She’d never seen Victor without his eye patch. She stood back in the shadows and watched with fascination as Esteban examined the dark pit and discolored flesh where Victor’s left eye used to be, as well as the scar on his face, in minute detail. Esteban nodded and smiled as he sat back and let Victor put the patch back on.
“Some of my finest work,” Esteban said, clapping Victor on the shoulder.
Victor turned to Alais. “Esteban is the finest physician I’ve ever met. He stitched me up when I was wounded in Spain. You can thank him for my handsome face. Without him, it would have been far worse. I still say it’s a pity you went into trade, Esteban.”
Esteban shrugged. “The money’s better, and I like sleeping through the night.” He handed Victor two bottles.
“Onion extract and lavender oil?”
Esteban nodded. “Onion in the morning, lavender at night, as before.” Esteban turned to Alais while Victor put his patch back on, and he inhaled deeply. “Lemon and thyme with just a hint of citron. Am I right?”
Alais smiled and nodded.
“You favor fresh scents, yes? Bright and sweet?”
“I do, though I’m open to other options as well. Nothing too heavy or cloying, though.”
“Nothing with roses,” Victor added, which surprised her. She hadn’t realized he knew her disdain for heavy floral scents.
He brought her bottle after bottle with different mixes until she started to sneeze. In the end, she chose two scents. The first reminded her of a spring morning with light floral and citrus notes and a hint of rosemary. The second was a heavier, more sensual scent with sandalwood and subtle herbal notes. It made Victor smile, which was all she needed to make her decision. Victor paid for their purchases, said goodbye to his friend, and they headed out.
She would never forget this day, she thought as they made their way through more narrow streets. It wasn’t the gifts he’d purchased but the way that he’d revealed a little bit more about himself with each stop. Who would have expected Victor to be such an expert in silks and millinery or to be such a sharp negotiator? Then there was the visit to Esteban. She had no doubt that he had deliberately chosen to let her see him vulnerable, to see the injury he had always kept hidden in her presence. It spoke to the trust he placed in her, trust she wasn’t entirely sure she had earned.
Their next stop was an elegant inn called the Lute and Tambour, filled with intricately carved tables and chairs, and lit with silver sconces. Everything was polished to a shine, and the uniforms of the serving staff were all spotless and neatly pressed. Victor requested a private dining room and asked the innkeeper to bring wine and refreshments and to find someone named Richard.
As soon as the door closed behind them, Victor pressed her against it and kissed her with a passion and ferocity that made her wish they’d asked for an actual room instead of just a diningroom. But before she was ready, Victor stepped away, leaving her panting. “Richard and the food will be here soon. I can’t let myself get too carried away. Have you been enjoying your day so far?”
“It is fun to watch you torment merchants. You’ve bought me more finery than I could wear in a year. But Victor, you do know you don’t have to buy my affection, don’t you?” It was all a bit much. She liked a pretty dress as much as the next woman, but he’d showered her in silks like he had something to prove.
He pulled her close again. “I would never mistake you for a woman who could be bought, Alais.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and caressed her cheek.
“Am I interrupting?” asked a man with a wry smile who was wearing blue and yellow motley and carrying a lute. He had dark curly hair and an outrageous mustache. “Paul told me you had a woman with you. I was hoping you might have thought to bring one for me too, but it looks like I’m out of luck.”
Victor’s grip on her tightened as he answered through clenched teeth, “She’s my wife, Richard.”
The man gave Victor a disbelieving stare. “Wife?You?”
“Alais, please forgive my friend for his ignorance and insults. He’s one of the finest performers at my aunt’s court, but sometimes he’s a complete lout.”
She cleared her throat and gave Richard a haughty glare.
Richard looked dubious, but he bowed in apology. “I did not mean to offend, my lady. I made a mistake. I hope you will not hold it against me.” He looked at Victor. “Perhaps you would care to explain why you invited me here. I like drinking with you, and you always bring me good songs. But I can’t imagine why you’d bring your wife along to spoil our fun.”
“I have a fabulously filthy song for you, courtesy of my new brother-in-law, but first I am hoping you will satisfy my wife’scuriosity about a certain song about a cat. She’s been after me for over a month, and I can’t do it justice.”
