Page 74 of Jeweler to the Blessed
“Not here,” he said.
I gestured to the staircase. “Lead the way.”
He raised a brow. “Your place or mine?”
I sucked in a breath.
“To talk,” he clarified.
I knew that, obviously. “Someone posted sentries outside my door. So if we go to mine, we have to be quiet.”
“I have no illusion that you’d be quiet.” The low rumble of his voice made the double entendre even more suggestive. It had my toes curling in my boots.
“I guess that leaves yours.”
I spoke with more confidence than I felt. I was in over my head, but if I was going to seriously consider not handing over the adamas, I’d need an ally.
He led us to the stairs. I glanced over my shoulder before we descended. I didn’t know the next time I’d get to see my parents. If I left the city because of whatever plans I concocted, I may never see them again. The feeling was as freeing as it was suffocating.
I was starting to take more of a liking to the Cursed King’sstory. His defiance in the face of a goddess’s summons at times seemed petulant. Now, with the trappings of the Glanmores dictating my actions, I understood it.
Whatever I did next would be my choice, and I needed to live with myself once I made it.
My chest tightened as I thought of all that could go wrong. Hart must have seen something in my face, putting himself in my line of vision.
His eyes were so green they felt like they held their own power of persuasion. “Hey. You’ll be back.”
I let out a shaky breath. He had no idea what I was thinking—no idea what I might do. I knew all that but still chose to believe his words. His voice held that conviction that consistently made me believe he prioritized my safety, even when everything else begged me to question him. I wanted to believe him on this too.
I couldn’t help the nervous laugh that bubbled in my chest when Hart led us to the door of Forest’s Edge. The heavy wooden handle was one I was becoming too familiar with.
“Your room is in the tavern?” I asked. “What a revelation.”
His glare said he was unamused. “There is nowhere better for a conversation you don’t want to be overheard.”
Given the number of conversations Serena had shared with me in the last few days, I wasn’t sure about that. I said as much to Hart.
The way his lip curled told me I was in for something I wasn’t sure I’d like.
“The conversations in the curtained alcoves are as private as they come.”
My heart raced of its own accord. Ava must agree with himsince she’d taken me to one a few hours ago. I’d been anxious enough with Ava, and she’d kept her distance. What exactly would this entail?
I’d be damned if I asked.
Hart’s smirk was smackable, but to his credit, he waited before opening the door and ushering us in. Our gazes locked, tempting me to suggest an alternative. The flutter in my abdomen said this was a bad idea.
I swallowed and pulled the door open.
He whispered in my ear as we crossed the room, searching for an open alcove. “We’ll be able to keep our distance unless someone comes by, wanting to take the space. They are … prioritized for taking.”
This was the fullest I’d seen the tavern. Every seat at the bar was occupied. Guests sprawled through the central dining space. Many sat at packed tables, and some stood, moving between groups. The room was alive, even more so than the city at this hour.
Orange flashed through each curtained alcove we passed. Most were occupied, but Hart must have spotted one that was open as he turned and led us to the back corner.
The alcove he led us to was well shielded from prying eyes. A staircase to the second floor partially blocked its view of the room, but there was a door beside it that few slipped through. I took a position on the plush seat.
“The gambling rooms,” he said, noticing my attention. “Most going in won’t give us a second glance.”
