Page 74 of The Iron Dagger
Hara closed her eyes and tightened her fist around the dull gray metal. There was a certain feel to gold, a way to tense the muscles and almost a taste on her tongue. Gradually she felt the softness of the lead begin to transform against her palm. She could sense Sarai’s eyes on her, but she only looked up when the lump in her hand felt right.
Sarai was watching her with a puzzled expression. Hara took Sarai’s hand and just like with Gideon, she placed the gold piece in her palm.
“Find a way to multiply it. I will help you in whatever way I can.”
Gideon
“They stuff the bird continuously on a diet of dates and barley for three months, and then when it reaches its desired plumpness, it is cooked and eaten whole. It’s so decadent, it’s almost sinful!” Cecilia Lascort said, plucking an appetizer thatresembled a tiny chicken from a tray. “Here, you must try it, Lord Falk.”
“No, thank you. I’m afraid I overindulged at supper.”
“It’s poetic, don’t you think? The bird gorged in life, and now we gorge on the bird,” said Cecilia with a coy smile, waiting for him to chuckle at her witty remark.
Gideon smiled and hoped it didn’t too closely resemble a grimace, then he took a sip of his wine and went in search of other company. He had only come to this soiree because Cecilia’s father, Professor Lascort, was an expert in rare minerals. There was very little Gideon had been able to glean from the library’s resources about sorbite, and he wondered if it was because most texts on magic had been removed. Rather than waste more time socializIng, he decided to seek out Lascort in earnest.
He entered the next room and leaned against a pillar, craning his neck above the crowd to see if he could catch sight of the professor. His search was interrupted by a warm, familiar voice.
“Gideon, welcome back,” said Robert Winthrope, his hand extended from the sleeve of an immaculate dark suit. Sarai’s brother was tall and gentlemanly, a fine specimen of man that rivaled Gideon in popularity among the ladies at court. Gideon should have hated him, but it was impossible to dislike Robert. He was as close to a friend as any in Gideon’s circle, and his closest companion now that his men-at-arms were lost.
“Robert,” Gideon said, taking his hand and giving it a hearty shake. “Dismal crowd. Has everyone gone away to the country early this year?”
Robert chuckled. “Court would seem small and dull to me, too, if I’d spent half the year roaming the peninsula.”
“Funny, small and dull is exactly how I’d describe the southern kingdoms,” said Gideon. Then he noticed the subtle detailing on Robert’s lapel and caught a whiff of some spicymusk, and he became annoyed. Gideon was accustomed to being the best-dressed person in the room, but the man was impeccable.
There was an unspoken competition between them that stretched back to childhood; unspoken because Gideon was quite certain Robert wasn’t aware of it.
“How is it possible you’ve grown more good looking in my absence?” Gideon grumbled.
“How many of those have you had?” asked Robert, gesturing to his glass.
Unfortunately, Cecilia Lascort’s odious company had driven him to his cups, and Gideon was halfway between sloshing and sloshed. Gideon brought his glass to his lips, downing the dregs.
“Sarai seems to have made friends with the guest you brought to court. She brings her up every chance she gets,” said Robert. “Tell me, is she available?”
Gideon almost choked on his mouthful of wine. “What?”
“I’ve seen her around the justice chambers, and she’s rather comely. I’d like to make an acquaintance, if you wouldn’t mind introducing us,” said Robert.
There it was.
Gideon knew it was only a matter of time before Hara was noticed by the bachelors at court, despite her status as a witch. None of them were worthy of her; slimy cads and lechers to the last man. He would sooner flog himself before he made it easy for them, but Robert was different.
Of all the dandies and vagabonds at court, Robert was sincere. Robert was virtuous. Robert baked pies for widows and orphans, probably.
Despite his perfection, which was a terrible flaw, Gideon couldn’t help but like him. Everybody liked him. And he knew without a doubt that Hara would like him. He was exactly thekind of man she should be with, all wholesome and honorable. His family was wealthy and charitable, and she already got on well with Sarai.
He could just see Hara strolling the Winthrope estate, her hand in Robert’s arm as their adorable dark-eyed children chased Seraphine.
Gideon flexed his jaw and swallowed the uncomfortable lump in his throat.
“She’s here to work, Rob. She is decidedly unavailable,” said Gideon with a stony expression.
Robert laughed. “Is she that dedicated? No wonder she and Sarai get along. Well, if she could ever spare an evening, would you introduce us? I would ask Sarai, but she’d never let me hear the end of it.”
“What do you want with a witch hunter?” asked Gideon irritably.
“There’s nothing wrong with making an introduction—unless—are you after her?” said Robert, catching onto Gideon’s sour mood at last.
