Page 33 of A Slipper in the Smoke
Her boot brushed against the canister under her workbench. If she got caught, everything was for nothing. But if she did nothing, then…
You wanted to fix the world, Elena. Here is your chance.
“I’ll help you,” she said, “but after we save the prince, I want you to take me with you. Get me out of this city.”
It wasn’t home. Not even close. But maybe it was a faster road to getting there.
“Done,” said Snowdrop shortly. “Any further questions?”
Work could not speed by fast enough for Elena that day. She raced through it, half eager to see Pip, half dreading having to try and interrogate him for information. Perhaps she wouldn’t even try. She’d just let him talk, like she had always done.
She finished work early and headed to the bathroom to try and freshen up. It did no good, of course. The grease was caked into her skin.
He likes you anyway,she told herself.For some reason.
It was still early when she headed to the gardens, but no one stopped her. The few courtiers walking around gave her a couple of curt looks, but likely assumed she was running an errand.
Pip was nowhere to be seen, of course.
She looked up at the clock attached to the side of the palace, a beautiful thing, gold and marble. She was far too early.
She sat down and tried to relax, wondering if she was more nervous about spying, or just about spending time with him.
Don’t like him too much. This can go nowhere. He will be leaving after the ball.
But it was almost three weeks till then. Three weeks more of pleasant company. She could not baulk at that.
There was a rustle along the path, and she looked up hopefully.
It wasn’t Pip though—it was Prince Nero.
She lowered her gaze, expecting him to slink away, or ignore her. He didn’t.
“Well, hello, hello,” he slurred, wobbling forward. “What do we have here? A mechanic?”
“I… I’ve finished my duties for today,” she said quickly. “I didn’t think anyone would mind if I just took a moment in the gardens—”
“Well, I certainly don’t!” Nero made a sound like a laugh, but it was hollow underneath. He slumped down beside her, holding out the bottle in his hands. “Want a taste? I’ve heard it’s very good. I stopped tasting it about half a bottle ago.”
“Umm… no thanks.”
“Hmm. Suit yourself.” He took another swig, and fell back against the grass. His silver rings clinked against the bottle, sparkling in the light. Nothing else glittered—his eyes were voids beneath the painted sky. “Pretty night,” he remarked.
“They always are.”
“Sneak off here often, little mechanic?”
“I,” said Elena, stiffening, “am not little.”
They were nearly identical in height, and she probably had more muscle on her than this pampered prince did, although she was not going to test the theory.
He barked a laugh, twisting on his side to admire her better. “What’s your name?”
She realised she should probably give him a fake one, but in the moment, it didn’t come to her. “Elena.”
“Beautiful.” She waited for him to make some comment on her appearance—praising it or insulting it, she wasn’t really sure. But he didn’t. He turned back to staring wistfully into the distance.
Another person came around the corner, a stunning, voluptuous woman in a gold dress, curls piled on top of her head and studded with pearls and leaves. Elena wished she could sink into shadow, scalded by the rays of her brilliance.
