Page 19 of Knightfall
It must have been an hour later when I looked up from the water. My fingers had shriveled into prunes and I was delighted by that fact. Begrudgingly, I cleaned my skin, refusing to call a maid in. I washed my hair and my face. But my back was a struggle.
I heard Declan muttering as he poured over a giant ledger. “Sixty-two and one-hundred-four. Nine-thousand… that can’t be right. I’ll need to send the auditor.” He made a note in a hand-sized notebook next to the ledger. He reached up and ran a hand through his blond hair, straightening it for the eightieth time. “They should try barley next year … rest the wheat field …” his muttering as he worked was equal parts endearing and annoying. I’d forgotten that about him. When I’d known him, half his muttering had been in Sedarish. And, being a self-conscious teenage girl, I’d thought he’d been muttering about me.
“Have you always talked to yourself?” I asked as I used the sponge to reach the middle of my back. Of course, this made me arch forward.
Declan turned toward me and his eyes immediately fell to my chest. I raised an eyebrow but he didn’t move his eyes away. “It helped me practice the language. Now, it keeps things clear.”
“What province are you looking at?”
“Ranwalf. Reviewing a request from Duke Aiden. He’s scheduled for a visit …” he went back to muttering under his breath at the ledger.
“Is he behind on payment?”
“Why the interest?”
“I happened to run into Quinn and Duke Aiden together. The duke’s rather fond of pissing away his tenant’s hard-earned gold.”
Declan muttered something about women and their gossip.
“Excuse me?” I leaned toward him.
“He cheat on his wife? He or any in his husband group?”
“Daily.”
Declan waved the quill at me. “There you have it. He scorned his wife, so she’ll ruin him for other women by saying he can’t manage his funds. Common tactic. See it at court all the time.”
“His wife’s too busy raising her sixth son to be bothered with his whoring,” I countered. “I’veseenhim lose thousands.”
“Well, Ranwalf province must have thousands to give then. Because they’re paid up on taxes. He’s coming for a visit to discuss crop rotation.”
I scrunched my nose. “Deadly boring.”
“Unless you realize that wheat goes for five times the rate of barley. He wants a second year of the wheat crop. His weather is fantastic for it.” A tinge of the nerdy scholar came into Declan’s voice as he spoke.
I bit down on my lip to avoid calling him ‘adorable’ and end up scorned and silenced.
He continued, “With the right calculations and application of power, I could do it—”
“What?”
“Magnify their minerals. The trick would be where I could take a reduction—”
He turned back to his calculations and a stream of mutters poured forth. I pondered his words for a bit. My mother hadn’t only chosen Declan for his brain. His fae heritage gave him the unique ability to multiply things. He could turn one chocolate cake into one hundred, as he’d done on my seventeenth birthday, before he’d learned I hated chocolate. I’d wanted a vanilla cake, but Declan’s power came at a price. Whatever he multiplied, he had to choose something else to divide. That year, he’d chosen vanilla.
“What would you divide?” I played with the sponge, floating it over the surface of the water.
“I was thinking quartz. I’ll need to research the implications. But …” Declan trailed off as he bent under his desk to grab a book from a stack I hadn’t noticed previously. Bending over gave me quite the view for a moment. I think he might have realized it, for he popped up quickly and bumped his head on the edge of the desk.
I grinned leaned against the tub, “You know, back when we had lessons together, I always thought you were cursing me during arithmetic.”
“If I’d known what a cunt you’d turn out to be, I would have,” Declan turned to grin at me. But it was a bitter grin.
It soured the endearing effect his embarrassment had on me.
I snapped back, “Well, you were supposed to be the genius. You should have figured I’d leave. Guess my mother’s impression of your intelligence was wrong.” I wink at him as I raise a leg to wash my foot.
“Yes. I should have refused appointment to your husband group.”
