Page 40 of Alien God

“I am afraid I do not have anything that would qualify as scratchy, my lord,” Hoshta fretted. “We take great pride in the quality and comfort of our fabrics.”

“Of course, you do,” I said stiffly, trying to maintain some outward composure. “I should not have implied otherwise.”

Since there was nothing scratchy, or even remotely ugly, in the shop, I settled on the most basic and plain items. Soft brown wool, grey silk, and a white fur cloak with a hood. I asked Hoshta if he had any boots meant for children, knowing adult ones would be too large, and he told me regretfully that he did not.

She doesn’t need boots. She has boots! The human boots that carried her foolish little feet into this world without your permission, remember?

I dumped my selected items on the counter, brooding as Hoshta tallied it all up. It was only when he told me the total that I realized I’d come here without any Sionnachan coin.

“Of course, if my lord prefers,” Hoshta said slowly, as if worried he might offend me, “he can put it on credit. Despite your long absence, we have kept your account open for you.” His voice softened slightly. “My mother insisted on it, just as her mother did, and her mother before her. We always hoped you’d return safely, Lord Wylfrael.”

“Thank you,” I replied. I was not simply thanking him for the credit, but for keeping a place open for me for so long. A wry smile touched my lips. “I hope I have not left anything unpaid on the account. If there is interest, it must be a mighty sum indeed.”

Hoshta’s ears flattened and he gasped, affronted. “Interest! On Lord Wylfrael’s account! Certainly not, my lord! Besides, your staff have kept things relatively up to date. Now, there is a small sum on the account, my lord. Very small indeed, for orders your Mistress of Affairs has made recently that she has not yet settled.”

“They will be settled quickly,” I said firmly, reminding myself to deal with that upon my return to the castle.

“Very good my lord, very good. Thank you.”

Hoshta placed the items into a large satchel for me. Just as I took it and turned, something out of the corner of my eye froze me to the spot. A flash of gold and white that had become so familiar I thought for a moment that her eyes had followed me here.

But it was lace. Shimmering, delicate golden lace sewn onto the finest snow-white silk.

My breath felt sharp and greedy in my lungs. My claws curled against the satchel I held, wanting simultaneously to stroke the lace and to tear it to pieces.

Leave it, Wylfrael, my mind said.

But my hand reached for it anyway, and my mouth said something else entirely as my fingers made contact with the lace.

“This one too, Hoshta. Put it on my account.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Torrance

Asha Wylfrael didn’t come back that day. I hoped he’d gotten bored of me, but somewhat doubted it after the nearly perverse way he’d stroked the angry bruise on my wrist.

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