Page 31 of Bound to the Fae Assassin

“It was a worthwhile trade,” he told her happily. “Now you have extra sugar so you can experiment with recipes for your king’s competition.”

He was right, it was good to have more sugar. But everything about this was upside down.

“You’re very interested in the competition,” she said, wondering if he would explain himself.

“It is your dream to win, is it not?” he asked.

She shrugged. “It would help to win.”

“You would earn more coin,” he said.

“And it would give us credibility,” she agreed. “But my dreams? I’m not sure what those are yet.”

“You do not wish to bake?” He sounded surprised.

“I love to bake,” she told him. “But maybe not the same thing every day. I’d like to bake cookies, pies, meringues, whatever inspires me.”

“Just desserts?” he asked.

“Maybe today,” she said, laughing. “Though no one would really want just desserts.”

“Why not?” he asked.

“They wouldn’t taste as sweet,” she said.

He went quiet, as if puzzling over what she had said.

She had only been joking around. But surely, he knew what she meant. The idea of nothing but sweetness wasn’t realistic. It was no way to run a bakery, and no way to look at life. Real life was plain brown bread with the occasional fruit pie, made sweet by comparison.

“Well met, sir,” he said suddenly.

She turned to see him talking with the silk merchant.

“Well met, indeed,” the merchant replied.

“We’ve had a lucky trade,” Blackthorn said. “Would you accept two coppers for the leaf-green scarf?”

“I would say no, but for the baker’s daughter?” the silk merchant said, pretending to sigh with love. “You have made an excellent bargain.”

Before Farrow’s wondering eyes, Blackthorn handed over two coppers and took the scarf.

It was truly beautiful, the green so verdant and fresh it made her think of the plants on the other side of the wall.

“For you,” Blackthorn said.

She could hardly bear the idea of the soft and pretty thing being draped over her workaday dress. But she allowed him to wrap it around her shoulders anyway.

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured, barely remembering not to thank him.

“So much more beautiful on you,” he said simply.

He stepped back and his eyes flashed with something mysterious.

It was difficult, but she tore her gaze from his and they continued down the square in silence.

Chapter 15

Blackthorn

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