Page 60 of The Shadow of Breninsol
Eleanor drained her ale and left the Three Bells just as quickly as she’d entered. She didn’t know how she felt about her exchange with the gang leader. Valen’s targets for her assassinations had aligned with her own motivations. They’d been scum, profiteering off someone else’s misery, and she’d been more than happy to end their pathetic excuses for lives. She received payment for the kills, and she had believed the arrangement would benefit both of them until Valen’s new request. This time, he wanted information. Information of what kind she wouldn’t know until she started snooping. Itwas what he would do with the information that weighed on her. Information could prove as deadly as a knife to the gut. Information was like a blade, and it depended on the owner to wield it as they saw fit. The question would be whether he would sharpen the information and drive it into her.
Eleanor would have preferred a kill, and she didn’t know what that said about her anymore.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The King's Museum
Eleanor woke to the ladies of The Ladies Grace squealing and prattling in excitement. She groaned.How early was this?Why was everyone up sobloodyearly on the one day she wanted to sleep in?
Eleanor hid her head in the lone pillow, and hoped she could drift back to sleep for a few more hours. Facing the day might then become possible for her.
“My Lord, the ladies…” That sounded like a distressed Madam Grace.Good, she thought grimly,someone else can be in a bad mood today too.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
She lifted her head, confused. No-one knocked doors here, least of all Madam Grace. Either a messenger was hoping they could get something for free, or it could be a new girl to clean their rooms. Eleanor didn’t care and groaned into the pillow to hide from the day.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Seriously, who the fuck knocks here?
“Go away!” she grumbled into the pillow.
Madam Grace’s shrill voice rang through the room as the door burst open. “Eleanor!”
Shit.
She lurched from the thin mattress before the madam could drag her out of bed. She threw off her covers, and the sheet snagged on the sea of empty wine bottles, which clattered and rolled across the wooden floor like a relentless tide. She involuntarily winced at the noise that signalled she’d been drinking since returning from the Three Bells last night.
“I hardly think that’s necessary, Madam,” came a drawling velvet voice from her doorway.
Eleanor’s eyes shot to the familiar figure of the Dark Star—who she now knew was the Marquis of Laerus—andshit, there he was, filling her doorway. Nothing about him belonged in this room; he was all deep blue velvet, jewels, and embellishments against the peeling plaster of her small room. His fresh spicy scent wafted to her through the smell of stale, cheap wine.
Shit.
Shit.
Unconsciously, she ran a hand through her hair, luckily it was less dishevelled than she imagined. She quickly glanced down.Thank the Stars.She’d fallen asleep in her cotton robe, even though it had parted slightly, but it was no more revealing than the dresses he’d already seen her in.
“Eleanor, you will ready yourself,” Madam Grace instructed while smiling with her red painted lips.
Did that woman sleep with her makeup on, or did she not sleep at all?
“What?” Her eyes shot from Madam Grace to the marquis, whose enormous hat added to his looming presence at the door.
“You lost to me at cards last night. I’ve come to collect,” he said in that velvet soft voice.
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
He was holding her to that bet. Of course he was.The prick. The bet went in his favour, so, of course, he’d be calling it in. He felt entitled to her and hertime,as he put it.
Annoyed at his arrogance, she lifted her chin. “I’m not going anywhere.”
As Eleanor knew she would, Madam Grace raised her hand to strike her. Instead of cowering as most the others did, Eleanor braced for the impact with a tight jaw and glared defiantly at the bitch willing her to hit her. She wasn’t in the mood to play the shrinking courtesan. She knew she’d be hit with the familiar sting on her cheeks regardless of her expression.
