Page 99 of A Fae in Finance
Aram shrugged. “At the least, Roman can perhaps explain some measure of his father’s magic. If he grants you nothing else, he will grant you knowledge.”
Sahir and I exchanged a glance. He seemed to be thinkingIs knowledge worth dying for?
I was thinkingAn entire quest? That’s so much walking.
“Roman will not grant us knowledge for nothing,” Sahir said. Aram made a face likeObviously not, you absolute child.
“If you choose to pursue him, tell Roman that I grant you leave to call in my favor.”
I glanced at Rijska, curious what she thought about this situation. She was staring intently at her plate. Fair. If Jordan had brought some strange girl to dinner and told Thea and me that he planned to escort her into enemy territory, I would likely also not want to get involved.
“Won’t the Princeling be angry?”
“Your bargain has not forbidden this quest,” Grumpy said, munching on a lettuce-adjacent purple leaf. She had a little plant fiber stuck in her teeth. “You may seek Roman on your own at any time.”
“Do not tell us what you decide,” Aram cautioned. “So that we cannot betray your trust, even under duress.”
Rijska rolled her eyes. “You are quite dramatic, husband,” she said. “Do not scare the human.”
“Or the child,” Grumps added, looking at Everly. She’d fully buried herself in her father’s armpit.
Aram opened his mouth, as if to begin some philosophical diatribe about the nature of truth and fear.
Grumpy patted my hand. “We will discuss this no more. Let us eat with our son.”
I looked at Sahir; his dark eyes shone.
“Miriam, my brother is the truest soul I know,” Rijska said. “He will help you.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, still looking at him.
He shook his head. “Everly.” He glanced down at her. “Are you in school?”
The little girl peeked out from under her father’s arm.
And we continued with our meal.
Chapter 16
In Which I Tell Jordan the Truth
“Why did you bring me here?” I asked Sahir, when the lights of the town had faded behind us. He turned off the path toward the paddock, where our two horses stood. The starlight silvered their coats.
“I swore an oath,” he said. “To keep you healthy, not just to keep you alive. And I will not break it.”
I frowned at his broad back, the green of his tunic gray in the semidark. He whistled; the horses looked up and started toward us as one.
“And,” he added, “sometimes, we cannot carry ourselves. At those times, it helps to have a friend.”
A friend?
But he wouldn’t look at me. Sparkles trotted up to my side. I saw the familiar glow along her back as the saddle appeared for me.
“It will be better if you help carry yourself, Miriam,” he said. I wasn’t entirely sure if he meant onto the horse, or in the context of the larger metaphor. I nodded, though, and when he came to lift me onto Sparkles, I grabbed the saddle and pulled myself partway up.
I thought I heard him chuckle into my backside and stiffened. But when I straightened in the saddle, he was already astride his horse.
“Did you understand what my good-brother and sister and mother and father said to you, Miriam?” he asked. The horses, unprompted, started toward the path.
