Page 7 of The Gargoyle's Grace
“My mother has offered her wedding ring as a gesture of good faith.” I slipped the golden band down my finger, fighting the urge to clench my fist every step of the way.
“Appreciated,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine as I set the jewelry in his palm. “You understand what happens if this continues.” His tone communicated an unspoken threat.
“We do. We’ll be back on track next month.”
He said nothing as he leaned to the side and dropped my mother’s ring in a locked case inside one of his desk drawers. I couldn’t help but wonder how many family heirlooms he had in there, all stacked together without reverence or care. How many lives he’d ruined after promising aid.
“We appreciate your generosity and patience,” I recited, knowing that flattery would only get me so far but also that at least a little was expected. “My father has always spoken highly of you and your support of his business. He wouldn’t have been successful all those years without you.” Bile rose in my throat at the lie in those words. My mother and I should have known better, seen the debt growing. The lengths he went to in order to keep paying, even when it destroyed his body, his hands.
“It is my history with your father that has allowed me to extend some… flexibility to your family over this loan.” He steepled his fingers together, looking somber. “The balance is not negligible but could very well be paid off within the year. However, my patience is running very thin. Nobody else would get such kindness if they were repeatedly short. Do you understand?”
My hands grew clammy, and my heart slammed against my ribs. I knew the warning in his words was not exaggerated. All the bravado I’d worked up earlier vanished under his cold stare.
“Yes sir.”
“Good. I will not accept any more jewelry in trade. I do not have a need for gold or jewels. I needcoin.” He bent his head and grabbed a quill to mark this month off in his ledger. The number of marks, the years of payments, the way the debt grew despite the effort to pay it down because of his exorbitant interest rate… it all sickened me.
“If you cannot make the full payment next month, we will come to an… alternative arrangement.”
My breath stalled in my throat. “What kind of arrangement?” I asked, voice steady but higher than I’d have liked. I wanted nothing more than to be out from under this man’s thumb, but there were some lengths I refused to go to.
“One of my men has expressed willingness to pay off the balance for you.”
I went over the words in my head, not quite understanding. Lawrence stared back at me as I opened and closed my mouth several times, words failing me. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Why would they do that?”
He chuckled, the sound dry and hollow. “Let me say that again. He’d be willing to pay off the balance. Foryou.”
“I…” My heart landed in my throat, twisting my gut. My dinner threatened to rise. I knew without asking that it was Gaius. It had to be. The spot on my arm he’d brushed against began to itch, even through two layers of clothing.
He’d been posted at the collegium more than once since I’d started working there, though never when Magnus was around. I made sure to keep my distance, though I offered him the same kindness I did everyone else who came through—partly because it was my job and partly because of their connection to the archmage. His interest had not gone unnoticed, though I’d done my best to shut down any conversation that veered away from polite or professional.
“Our business here is done.” He closed the ledger with a snap and waved me off after tapping out the new code knock on the cover.
“Thank you for your understanding.” I gave an awkward half bow as I left and avoided meeting the eye of the men sitting in the strange living room, but my skin crawled under their gaze anyway.
“See you around, Grace,” Gaius drawled.
Despite better judgment, I looked at him as I pulled open the door. I forced a small smile and walked out, hoping to lose the slimy feeling that always clung to me after going into that building.
My steps were quick as I headed back the way I’d come.
All along the dimly lit street, adults gathered in small clusters, enjoying an evening drink while children played nearby, getting the last of their leisure time in before bedtime.
I stopped to hand a weathered ball made from leather scraps back to a little boy, and he said, “Thanks, lady,” before scurrying off back to his friends. I found myself smiling, remembering something my mother had told me at least a thousand times.Even in the darkest of places, where the desperate go to find help, there’s light.
She was rarely wrong.
We’d been that light for the children in our neighborhood for years and years. Dad’s butcher shop fed the hungry, and Mom’s restless hands kept them busy, clothed, and often, educated. They deserved to be free of this burden once and for all.
I was just past the market when I came to a stunned stop.
Magnus was across the square at the blacksmith. As I watched, he dipped a hand into his pocket, then shook the man’s hand. There was no way for me to prove it, especially with the size of his palm, but he’d almost certainly just passed along a coin. As though he felt me staring, Magnus looked up, just as surprised to see me as I was to see him.
Frowning, he crossed the distance between us. “Grace? What are you doing clear out here?”
“I could ask you the same,” I said, deflecting.
He scanned the area, pausing as he looked down the street I’d come from. “I have business out this way.”
