Page 30 of Bound to the Fae Assassin

Blackthorn frowned.

“You didn’t like it?” he asked.

“It was lovely,” she told him. “But we hardly have coin enough for ingredients.”

“A beautiful woman should have beautiful things,” he said.

She turned to him, and saw his expression was serious.

“If we win the competition, maybe there will be more business,” she allowed. “And that could mean money for things we enjoy, not just things we need.”

They had nearly reached the last of the cobblestones when the farmer’s cart came into view.

“Sweet eternity,” Blackthorn breathed.

Suddenly, he was jogging up to the cart, messing with his hand as if he were removing an invisible ring.

Except that when he pulled his hand away, something sparkled in the afternoon sunlight. She’d almost forgotten that his humble appearance was merely an illusion. Underneath it all, he was probably sporting enough finery to buy half the town.

He began to haggle with the farmer, holding up the ring and gesturing to the cakes of sugar, while the farmer’s little girl gazed up at him in adoration.

Bollocks.

“Oh, Thorn,” she cried out, pretending to laugh as she ran up to join him. “You’re such a joker. That’s not a real diamond, of course.”

“Good morning, Farrow,” the farmer said, smiling fondly at her.

“This is our new baker’s boy, Thorn,” Farrow said. “Thorn, this is Farmer Gillespie, and his daughter, Hazel.”

“An honor to meet you both,” Blackthorn said with a little bow. “I have heard so much about your farm and your beautiful sugar.”

Little Hazel tugged on her father’s sleeve, and he bent so that she could whisper in his ear.

“Ah,” he said. “It seems my little one is fond of your ring. I can’t sell you my entire inventory, as you hoped. But I would trade you a cake of sugar for that ring, if you’ll agree. And another if Miss Farrow has brown bread for trade in that bag.”

“That’s a fine offer,” Farrow said, surprised. “But one cake in trade for my bread is more than sufficient for our—”

“Two cakes and three coppers,” Blackthorn said. “And we’ll leave you the ring and the bread.”

“You’re a born salesman, son,” Farmer Gillespie declared.

Farrow watched in amazement as they completed their transaction.

“We’d best away,” Blackthorn said, after the two men had clasped arms. “Enjoy the trinket, pretty girl,” he whispered to little Hazel.

She smiled up at him, admiring the stone sparkling on her thumb.

They headed back across the square, Farrow trying not to scold him while they were still in earshot.

“Was that a real gem?” she whispered, when they were far enough away that she was sure the farmer couldn’t hear.

“It was a diamond,” he said, sounding pleased. “Set on a gnome-carved band of white gold. It is beautiful, but it will also bring her luck when trying to open things.”

“Open things?” Farrow echoed.

“Like jars,” he explained. “Or if she ever decides to break into a safe or bank vault.”

“Gods,” she breathed.

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