Page 38 of The Gambler's Prize
Grimes scoffs at my confidence. He shouldn’t. I might not be able to beat him at boxing, or digging foundations, or shooting dark grumpy looks at people, butafiis my game. I’m not drunk this time, not distracted by lust. He has no fucking chance. After a couple of hands, sure enough Beveen and I are running away with it. She’s not bad, but even alone I’d be winning. This is my game. Grimes stares at me as I win hand after hand, eyes wide with admiration he doesn’t try to hide.
“Surprised?” I say, smiling.
“How do you do it?” he says.
“I know where the cards are.”
“Sure, where they started out,” he says. “But they’ve been moved dozens of times.”
I shrug. I’m not even sure how I do it. I can just keep track in my mind.
“I had no idea you were so clever,” Grimes says, sounding half impressed, half mad about it.
The evening ends on a note of success, unlike the last time. Beveen and I are gracious, popular winners, and after a final cup of coffee the family takes their leave, promising to come back soon. Grimes closes the door after them and turns to me with a satisfied smile, like we’re a team. It almost feels like we’re playing house together.
“So, that went well,” I say, trying to sound light.
“Very well.”
He picks up a fewaficards and runs them through his fingers, like he’s thinking about his next words. “Florian, I didn’t mean to imply that I thought you weren’t clever, or anything like that.”
“I know. Though I wouldn’t blame you. Losing two years of my life to you wasn’t exactly a smart move.”
“You were inebriated. Stars, I’ve made many a foolish decision while under the influence.” He gives me a brief smile. His smiles are so quick and then gone. At least when he aims them at me. Maybe other, more prized people are treated to longer ones. They remind me of the flash of a perfect sunrise caught over the brow of a hill as you gallop by on a fast horse.
“You’ve made foolish decisions too?” I ask.
He sets the cards down. “Of course. Who hasn’t?” His tone makes it clear that the mood of almost-closeness is over. “Well, we should go to bed.”
“I’ll do the dishes first.”
“You will not. You cooked. I’ll do them.” He looks over at the huge pile and lets out a mammoth yawn. “Tomorrow. I’m exhausted.”
“Socializing takes it out of you,” I tease. “You’re more tired than after a day of digging.”
“I am,” he says, completely serious.
“Weird. I’m more tired after digging.”
“That’s because you’re what’s known as a social butterfly.”
“True. I don’t like being alone much.” I sneak a little closer, begging him with my eyes not to go to bed alone. To bring back the confiding mood. To invite me to come with him. I’d fit so snugly under the crook of his arm. But he doesn’t get the hint, or ignores it.
“Goodnight, Florian,” he says, turning on his heel.
Chapter 17
Florian
I’m frustrated. After the heat of the spanking and Grimes’ flashes of almost-tenderness at the dinner, he’s right back to being distant. I was sure we’d turned a corner, but now we’re right back to where we started. I can’t figure him out. I know he finds me attractive, that he can barely control those feelings. He watched me like a starving man finally sating his appetite as he made me suck on the dildo. But now he’s pulling away again, likeI’m off-limits or forbidden. Like he thinks he’s weak for liking me. Maybe even hates himself a little for it. Just like back at the casino, when it seemed like he had something personal against me even though I’m sure he couldn’t have.
Or could he? I’m not proud of it, but I need to know. Finally, I give in to the urge to investigate. He’s downstairs washing the dishes and I creep guiltily into his bedroom, which is unlocked. I’m not really sure what I’m expecting to find. A wardrobe full of identical black cloaks? I peek inside the cupboards. He does indeed have a few dark hooded robes, but there are other clothes too. Fashionable Rhennian clothes. I’ve never seen him wear any of these, though I guess he might be wearing them under his cloaks and I’d never know. It doesn’t take very long to search his room. There’s a distinct lack of personal possessions, or indeed any personality at all. Stark sunlight shines through the window onto his dressing table, which is almost empty apart for a pack of tooth powder, a toothbrush, and one bottle of cologne. He also has a small cosmetic case with kohl pencils, which I didn’t expect. Fashionable Rhennian men sometimes wear kohl around their eyes, but I would’ve thought the trend too overtly chic for someone as grim as Grimes. I’ve never seen him wear this stuff. Maybe he used to. I wonder what he’d look like with his dark eyes, with their power and repressed fire, rimmed with smoldering dark ash. I think it would suit the fire inside of him. He has a small bookshelf with mostly non-fiction books and wooden carvings that look home-made. But nothing to give me a hint as to his past, or why he could hate me.
I’m just starting to think the whole searching expedition is pointless. But then my foot cracks on a loose board in the floor. I wonder… could it be one of those loose boards people hide their secrets under?
I don’t hang around to give guilt a chance to deter me. I pry up the floorboard and look underneath, excitement tightening mychest. The space beneath the board looks empty, but of course Grimes wouldn’t hide his secrets in plain sight. I feel around, stretching my arm as far as I can in both directions, until my hand closes around something metallic. Feels like a small box. I extract it from its hiding place and open it up.
It’s full of papers, some yellow with age and some much newer. The older papers are musty, and the smell makes me want to sneeze, but I don’t dare because Grimes is just downstairs in the kitchen. He might be able to tell that I’m in his room if I sneeze. I grab the first letter at random, heartbeat heavy in my ears, listening out for footsteps. Snooping through his personal belongings probably isn’t one of the duties he looks for in a servant. If I’m honest, I’m a little frightened of what he’d do to me if he caught me. Also, I don’t want lose what little respect he has for me by being found out as a sneak.
