Page 19 of Truth's Blade

She didn’t respond, just kept going down.

“Melodie, you’re going to kill yourself.”

She decided that keeping him talking meant he wasn’t racing to her room, trying to pull her back up.

She could slide down and talk at the same time.

“This is on you, Vinest.” Her foot slipped on the moss that grew on the side of the house, and with a jerk, she was suddenly dangling from the rope. Her arms took the strain, and she scrabbled her feet, and finally found purchase.

She didn’t have long. She was sure of it, so she began moving even faster.

“You nearly fell there. And you say I’m making you climb down the side of the house?” Vinest had gone silent when she’d slipped, and now his hiss of outrage was itself enraging.

She looked up again, saw he was leaning as far out of his window as he could. “You locked me in my room. Like a prisoner. Shame on you, Vinest. My father would be devastated.”

That remark hit hard. She saw him flinch back.

“You were trying to leave me. To break free,” he said, waving the hand that wasn’t clutching the window sill.

“So? Again, only prisoners need to break free.”

“I need you. Your designs are the signature of the business.”

She knew it, but he had never admitted that to her before.

“If you’d paid me fairly and given me my independence, I would have kept working for you,” she told him. “Now, no matter what, your behavior tonight is the end of things.”

She was nearly at the bottom, and suddenly the rope disappeared. She cried out as she fell, stumbling and then landing hard on her side on the slate paving stones that covered the back courtyard.

She looked up, felt the hot prickle of fear down her arms as she saw the extent of the drop, and got to her feet.

At the sight of her standing on the ground below, Vinest suddenly seemed to realize she was out of his reach.

“Stop. I’m sorry I locked you in. It was a poor decision.” His voice was wheedling.

The kitchen door banged open, and Melodie turned to see Betts, wearing a dressing gown and a scarf on her head.

She stayed in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest, mouth a thin line. “How did you get down?”

Melodie couldn’t help the laugh that exploded out of her. “Interesting question.”

“Well, get off with you, if you’re going.” Betts half-turned back into the kitchen, dismissing her.

“Goodbye, Betts.” There was truly nothing else she could say. It was sad, but it wasn’t on her. She turned for the back gate, hitching her satchel across her chest.

“Wait a minute. What are you taking with you?” Betts called after her, voice harsh.

Melodie glanced over her shoulder, and another laugh of disbelief escaped her throat. “You’ve searched my room often enough, I’m sure you have a good idea.” Melodie opened the back gate, stepped into the alley that ran behind the house, and pushed it shut behind her.

She heard Vinest raise his voice, shouting at Betts to stop her, but Betts wasn’t so inclined.

The sound of their argument faded as she increased her pace. She reached the road and crossed another two parallel streets before she turned toward the bridge.

Vinest would not simply let her go.

He was probably throwing on clothes right now, and he’d go to the bridge to stop her. He suspected Theo was her inspiration for leaving, and the Kassia and Cervantes soldiers barracked on their own side of the river.

He might go to Jackson first, though, and check the forge just in case she was merely changing residences and had decided to move to the smithy for a while. But in the event he went to the bridge first, she began to jog.

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