Page 104 of Song of the Heart Scale
I adjusted the hood over my head and cast a glance toward Maeve walking beside me. She kept her cloak pulled low, hiding her braids looped behind her ears. We slowly moved past vendor stalls, pretending to examine bolts of cloth and crates of fruit. The sun overhead was warm, leaving dappled patches of golden light across the canopy of awnings overhead. But it did little to ease the tight coil of unease in my stomach.
“What did he say, specifically?” I asked as we threaded through the marketplace.
“The raven he sent said to meet him here,” Maeve whispered as she leaned closer to me. “It didn’t say anything else, my lady.”
I couldn’t imagine he’d decided this quickly. And to meet in such a public place… I scanned the area with wary eyes. Themarket was filled with Thorne’s men. Imperial guards marched through the crowd, stationed around the edges with orders to quietly observe any suspicious activity. We had to be careful.
“He's here,” Maeve murmured, barely moving her lips.
I didn’t look in the direction she gestured. Instead, I kept my attention on a display of glass jars filled with rare spices—some imported from the western isles, others grown in tightly guarded hothouses in the heart of Elaria.
Jacob stood a few feet away at a nearby stall, facing the merchant and examining something in his hand. He looked like any other nobleman, dressed in muted forest-green riding leathers with a sword at his side and a satchel slung over his shoulder. He didn’t glance at me, but I heard his voice—low, casual.
“I heard something interesting,” he said as he handed the merchant a coin and gestured to a bag of dried pears.
I didn’t respond at first, taking a few steps toward a different booth, this one selling leather-bound journals and writing implements. I fingered the edge of a quill, pretending to inspect it. “About what?” I asked, equally casual.
“My commander, Lord Mercer,” Jacob said, keeping his gaze on a polished inkpot, “had a visitor.”
My grip on the quill tightened, and I was suddenly very aware of the pulse pounding in my throat. This was supposed to be secret. If Jacob knew Damien met with Lord Mercer, then someone had been talking. There was a mole.
“Oh?” I replied. “And?”
He turned a little, still not meeting my eyes. “He doesn’t say much, but I know the signs. Something’s brewing. Something big.”
“Do you know what your commander is thinking?” I asked softly.
Jacob was quiet for a beat. Then he said, “Lord Mercer has always been a free thinker. A patriot. He serves the people, not a crown. Not unless the crown deserves it.”
That was answer enough.
I nodded faintly, turning a small leather journal over in my hand. Sweat beaded at my back despite the cool breeze filtering through the market. “We shouldn’t talk long.” I set the journal down and shifted toward another stall. “Eyes are everywhere.” I peered around at the imperial guards stationed around the market.
“Agreed,” he said.
“See you on the battlefield,” I whispered.
“Hopefully on the same side,” he murmured before slightly turning to Maeve and offering a gentle smile. With a subtle dip of his head, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd as if we’d never spoken.
I exhaled slowly.
Maeve appeared at my elbow. “That was risky.”
“Most of what I do is,” I replied with a smirk.
We started walking back toward the main road, winding through the busy market as vendors continued to shout their wares and children chased one another between stalls. But even as I laughed when a boy nearly barreled into a fruit cart, my mind was elsewhere.
Lord Mercer knew. Jacob knew. That meant it was only a matter of time before others did, too. The pieces were moving faster than I could track, and I couldn’t help but wonder how much longer we had before the whole board was flipped.
Still, there was a flicker of hope in Jacob’s voice. A possibility. A chance.
Maybe that was all we needed.
The crowd had swallowed Jacob within seconds of our parting, his dark cloak disappearing into the throng of vendorsand townsfolk like a shadow slipping beneath the tide. I stood for a moment, staring at the place he'd been, my heart racing faster than I cared to admit. His words echoed in my ears:“The commander always thinks about the people first.”
I just hoped that meant what I thought it did.
“Do you think he suspects something?” Maeve asked as we resumed walking, her voice low but tight with concern. Her eyes flicked around the marketplace, always alert.
